creative little daisy

Words...

Have you heard of the one word concept to New Year's resolutions? It isn't new, but I hadn't read about it until last night, then again this morning, in this very compelling post. I, not being a resolution maker am intrigued by the one word notion.  Since starting this blog, I think I have made some lists, things I hoped to do in the coming year, and have even managed to accomplish some, but for the most part they have been all but forgotten by February.

Open. I think that's going to be my word. I've done my share of introspective naval gazing over the past few weeks. Holiday induced, no doubt. Circumstances surrounding the holidays gave way for lots inner struggles. Wrestling with my own psyche over what is right and wrong and what I should and shouldn't be feeling. I had many times when I wanted to be mopey and blue, only to give myself the old snap out of it! slap in the face  (think Cher in Moonstruck).  Although, my southern version of snap out of it sounds nothing like Cher and is much less effective.

Alyssa and Bayleigh were out of town Christmas, spending it with Derek's family in another state and Mitch had to go to work Christmas morning.  I was pretty sad and had to work really hard not to feel sorry for myself.  How could I feel sorry for myself? Casey was home. Last Christmas he was in Boot Camp and we only got to speak to him for a few short minutes. This year he was home. So many many families spent the holidays worrying about a loved one deployed overseas. My son was home. With such a blessing, who in the world did I think I was to feel one bit sad? See what I mean about inner conflict? That only begins to scratch the surface. With all the quiet time the holidays brought, I did lots and lots of soul searching. I did a lot of thinking about what role I play in the lives of those I love and how I can positively impact those around me. I've been feeling a tug, a slight pull inward. A retreat from what I don't want to face and what is uncomfortable. I've become increasingly aware of my natural gravitation away from anything that doesn't feel good. Not so much that it's a revelation, I've known this about myself, rather an awareness that my head seems to get deeper and deeper in the sand with every passing year. I have become more of an island, distancing myself from relationships that may expose me to sadness, heartache, or really any sort of dysfunction. To say I shy away from that which I can't fix or have no control is a gross understatement.

Gosh, I can feel this getting very long and I didn't intend for that to happen. I'll just say, for many reasons I feel drawn to the word OPEN. And I hope it will open up a new world for me a world in which I can be more~

Open in my communications

Open in my understanding

Open with my feelings

Open in my acceptance

Open with my love

Are you making resolutions? Choosing a word? What do you hope the year will hold for you? 

Tomorrow this little blog will turn four. I can hardly believe I've been doing this for four years. I can honestly say, blogging has been a life changing experience and I hope I can continue for many more years to come.

Discontent, be gone!

Wow, I've been away from this little corner for a while, huh? I didn't intend to stay away. I was supposed to be sewing in November, wasn't I? I did sew. I just didn't feel like talking about sewing, I guess. I've been feeling blah and bland.  You know how it is when you have a bad cold and nothing tastes right? It felt like my creative vision had a cold and nothing looked right. Does that make sense? I've been busy.  There has been sewing, painting, thrifting even cooking happening around here, but I just didn't have it in me to take a picture or to write a post.

I usually catch up on my blog reading in the morning as I read my coffee but instead of being inspired to get in there and share, I've felt like I didn't have anything of interest to share. Nothing that measured up. When I tried taking photos, I couldn't get a shot that made me happy. I've just had a bad case of discontent. Not sure why. Maybe the winter blues? Whatever it is or was, I don't like it. I like to look at things with positive eyes. I like to see beauty all around me instead of feeling like nothing I do turns out right.  The past couple of days I've felt the fog clearing. As I tinkered around this morning with my Christmas decorations, fluffing here and straightening there, I realized how much I've missed this place, this little blog. I've missed the interaction.  I got my camera out and started clicking away. I have much to share. Don't say you haven't been warned. 

Don't question a mama's intuition

My nephew, Mackenzie had to have surgery yesterday. Emergency surgery to repair a bowel obstruction. Not the way most fourteen-year-olds like to spend a Saturday night.

It started in the wee hours of the morning Saturday. He awakened his mom, my sister Erica, crying out in pain. She went to him and comforted him and asked all the questions a mama asks. She determined the whole bag of blueberries he had consumed was not agreeing with his stomach, but she kept him in her bed the rest of the night so she could keep a close watch- just in case it was something more serious. 

He was not feeling much better by morning and wasn't looking so good. He said he hurt too bad to get up and take a shower, causing my sister to get quite concerned. She questioned him some more about the exact location and quality of his pain. Was is sharp, did it feel like cramps, was is nausea??? It felt as though he was being stabbed, he said. Her concern turned to panic when she lifted his shirt to see what she described as aliens trying to get out. He had bumps all across his thin little abdomen. She immediately called 911 and attempted to describe what she was seeing. By this time Mac was not really even talking. He was awake, but writhing in pain. The paramedics arrived and began to ask questions. Erica said it was as if a switch had been turned off. They went from quick! lets help this kid, to oh, he has gas. They've called 911 for gas pains. They went through the motions of doing an assessment, but had made their diagnosis. They tried to persuade my sister to take Mac to the hospital herself. Surely he could make the 30 minute drive, after all, it is likely just gas. She was adamant though that an ambulance come. We live in a rural area and the first responders are EMTs from the local fire department. Once the ambulance arrived the EMT who was certain Mac had a bad case of gas gave them his expert opinion and threw in for good measure, that they should not worry about driving with the lights or sirens, following normal traffic rules would be sufficient.  That was around noon. By five Mac was on an operating table.

Lucky for my sister and for Mac, the nurses and doctors were not so quick to diagnose his excruciating pain as gas. Luckily, one look at the dilated loops of bowel that were visible on his abdomen prompted them to put a tube down his nose into his stomach and drain the large amount of fluid that had no place to go. His bowel had twisted around scar tissue from a previous surgery and wrapped around itself, causing a blockage. 

By the grace of God and a mama's intuition, there was no damage to the bowel and Mac is recovering in a hospital room. The scenario could have been much less positive had they waited. 

In the defense of the EMTs, I'm sure they see more than their share of "emergencies" that are really just folks wanting to skip to the head of the line in the ED. Even I thought she may have been over reacting a bit. She does have some dramatic tendencies, but God gave mamas a sixth sense and her's was screaming out that her baby needed attention right away.  Don't ever question a mama's intuition.

Sometimes I feel helpless...

Do you?  Times you want to do something, help in some way, make things better but you just don't know how. Some people seem to have a gift, they know just what to say and do when there is a crisis. They spring to action and take charge. They make decisions and delegate tasks. No hesitation.

Not me. I'm the type that watches from afar, wishing I knew what to say, and I usually say nothing out of fear of saying the wrong thing. Not wanting to impose or get in the way. Not wanting to seem like I'm trying to be in someone's business.

I'm not proud of this. I'm just paralyzed by my social unsteadiness. I don't visit sick people. Not because I'm not thinking about them and praying for them, but I worry I'll be in the way. I worry they'll wonder why I'm bothering them. What if I come at a time they want to rest?

I've gotten better about going to funerals, although for years after my mother and granny died, I just wouldn't go. Couldn't.

I have a couple of friends who are wonderful in times of need. They are the first ones to offer to bring food, send flowers, just visit. I so wish I had their gift for being angels at just the right time. 

When a terrible tragedy happened this past spring touching very close to home, once again I was struck with that paralyzing feeling. That desire to do something but inability to know what or how. I found out about the accident at church. A young boy, a car accident. A life ended too soon. He was Alyssa's age, they had gone to school together since kindergarten. He dated and planned to marry a girl very close to our hearts. Sara is also Alyssa's age and they have been friends since they were babies. Our families attend the same church and have known each other for as long as I can remember. We also live on the same street. When I heard about the terrible accident, that had happened just the night before, I wanted to go to Sarah, to hug her and say how sorry I was, but stayed frozen in place. What if she's too upset for visitors? What if she thinks I'm just being nosy... what if my presence upsets her? My heart ached for her, for Zack's family. For everyone who was hurting. I prayed for them and cried for them and I was mad at myself for not doing more. So a week later at church when Sarah's mom came to me and asked if I would do something for Sarah, I couldn't say yes quickly enough. Something I can do. Something I feel comfortable doing. Something that in perhaps a small way can make things a little better. Sarah wanted to have a quilt made from Zack's tee-shirts to give to his mom. We talked it over and the next day she brought over the shirts. It was heart breaking to listen as she pulled each shirt out and told why it was special, what it meant, how it represented this life too short. She cried and I cried, Alyssa was here and she cried too. I was heartbroken for Sarah and for his parents but was so glad God had given me the ability to sew. I am not socially gifted, but I do have God-given gifts and here was a way I could put them to use. I was so thankful.

As we discussed how it would be laid out, the materials to use, we decided on a khaki colored cotton for the sashing and borders, since he typically wore khaki pants or shorts. She mentioned he also had lots of button-down cotton shirts she didn't know what to do with. I told her to bring them and we'd use those for the binding. We even used some boxer shorts on the back. I cut them in six inch squares in a strip across the back.

 

I'm wishing I got a better picture, boy does it need ironing! (honestly, it looked better in person) But after taking way longer to finish this than I wanted, I  was too eager to get it into Sarah's hands. She cried when she saw it, I knew she would.

I'm so glad she trusted me with this endeavor. I'm so glad God put the ability in my hands to give her this gift.

I have a sad, sad heart...

My sweet little Gracie girl died yesterday.  She had been a part of our family for ten years. This morning as I looked through photos to include in this post, it became even more apparent how present she was in every minute of our lives. Sets of photos of birthday parties, Christmas, photos of Bayleigh... you name it. Gracie may  not have been the subject of the picture, but if we were gathered, she was there. Part of our family.

Watching Casey open presents on his birthday with the rest of the family.

In the middle of the mess on Christmas Eve.

Making unexpected appearances in shots on her way to get near me.

She did love me. Unconditionally, wholeheartedly, she loved me. If I left for a while she watched out the window and cried and met me at the door, tail wagging as soon as I returned. She was the top dog for a long time. Till Toby and Lucky came along and she became on of three vying for attention. I say one of three and not four, because Angel has always preferred to be a little more to her self than the other dogs. She likes a pat on the head and an acknowledgment that she's a pretty girl, then she's fine to be off in her bed instead of in the middle of the action. Not Gracie, if there was action, she was there. She was kind and gentle with Bayleigh, but chose to watch her from afar when possible. She was so smart, we often swore she was more human than pup. She would pout if your hurt her feelings and look back to see if the pouting was working. She would make a big scene of eating her dog food while we were eating dinner (only after giving up on getting any table scraps) she would get a piece of food and make sure we could see her eating, as though to say see what I have to eat, while you sit there eating real food.

She wasn't a prissy little yorkie. If I took her to get a fancy hair-do, she'd have the bow out before we got home and once home she'd promptly roll in the grass till her hair was no longer smooth and silky and was full of bits of grass.




She was such a sweet, smart little girl. I know time will ease the pain, but this morning, my heart is broken and I'm missing my tiny girl with the huge heart.

Goodbye my sweet girl. Thank you loving us and letting us love you  for those ten short years!
You are so missed!

Dear Lady-who-used-to-blog-here,

Where are you? I miss you.  You've been gone so long. You took with you all the fun stuff we used to do like sewing and those crazy pictures you used to take.  Remember those pictures? Any and everything, you name it, you photographed it. Nothing was safe from you and  that camera. Your pictures weren't bad either. Oh, they weren't  great, but they were OK, and they really  improved as time went on. Back when you used to blog here that is.  You used to find stuff to talk about, even when there really wasn't anything to talk about, you talked anyway. I liked that. I liked it when you talked about stuff that probably wasn't all that interesting. At least you were talking. And taking pictures. And making things that you could talk about and take pictures of. I miss you. I miss the eyes you viewed the world with, eyes full of excitement for the beauty that is all around, beauty in the everyday. You used to talk with other ladies who blogged. You liked those ladies and learned so much from them.  Don't you miss that? Are you still out there somewhere?

Maybe you just got lost in the shuffle of life. Too many things to do to stop and take pictures. Maybe you thought people were tired of what you had to say and maybe instead of  talking about anything, like you always had, you felt like you should talk about something important. Something that mattered. Something that made sense. Instead of blabbering on about the randomness of your day, perhaps you have been waiting to say something "worthy" of being said. Or it could be that you have just gotten lazy. Talking about nothing in general and taking photos of any old thing takes time and energy. Maybe you have just decided to be a big ole couch potato. Maybe you don't want to try new things and improve on what you already know...

Maybe you were abducted by aliens... You ran away with the circus, or Brad Pitt. Hey, it could happen.  Whatever has kept you away, can you please come back? I really miss you.

Love your quiet and unispired friend,
A

Letters from our Recruit

Each day I check the mailbox in eager anticipation, hoping for a letter.  He's been gone four weeks now, four weeks and two days to be exact, and has 58 days to go. Each day I write to him, at least once, so he'll know we miss him, that we love him, and that we have faith that he can do this.

A few random things...

Since it's been a couple of weeks since I was last here, it's not easy to focus on one topic. So you get a bit of this and that. Hope that's OK with you.

First and foremost, thank you cannot begin to express my appreciation for your love and support, understanding and wisdom.  You comments provided much comfort to our family during this time of sadness. If I could give each of you a great big hug, I would.

Casey, now known as Recruit Hall has been at boot camp for two weeks.  We got a form letter with the address to write him, but that's it, no real words from him yet.  Two weeks is a long time for a mama not to know how her boy is doing.

Bayleigh is our little ray of sunshine on even the cloudiest of days. She's full to the top and running over with joy and her happiness is contagious. Just a few of the things she's loving these days:

Walking into the laundry room to watch the clothes dry.
 

Can you imagine how many times a day I kiss that little face?
She's also loving,



teething cookies

her Ruby doll (thank you Diane!!)

and the Christmas tree.

She does not love

 
getting dressed. Every day. Every. Single. Day. It's tears and thrashing about, trying to roll away and escape. The girl doesn't want to wear clothes!

I've done a little sewing I'd like to share,  but that will have to wait till tomorrow, it's past my bedtime. Night, night my sweet friends!

blue

"There's no way around grief and loss: you can dodge all you want, but sooner or later you just have to go into it, through it, and hopefully come out the other side. The world you find there will never be the same as the world you left."
                               Johnny Cash

On Friday we learned that Olivia's heart was no longer beating. We had to wait nearly 36 hours for a hospital bed to become available for Alyssa to deliver her.  Early Sunday morning Olivia's body came into this world, her spirit already with the Lord.

On Sunday afternoon, Casey left for boot camp.  

  

My heart overflows...

With gratitude. The support and kindness shown by you, friends, has been amazing. Dark clouds can creep into our lives so suddenly and unexpectedly and turn everything upside down. That's certainly what happened last week. I didn't mention that it was Alyssa's birthday, the day her world changed. We sang happy birthday and went through the motions, but no one was happy that day. I've never prayed as earnestly, as desperately, as frequently as I have this past week. I've prayed because this nanna so very much wants to meet her second granddaughter,  I've prayed because I can't bare to watch my daughter go through so much pain and I've prayed because I know miracles do happen.

Alyssa had an ultrasound on Friday, she'll go weekly to monitor Olivia's condition. This week looked relatively unchanged from last week and to us, that's good news, because she hasn't worsened. She's growing and moving about and we continue to pray for her healing and appreciate each and every prayer whispered in her name.