That Mockingbird Will Sing

I love music.

How a song can so perfectly strike the chords of your heartstrings.  How its words can wrap around a feeling or a memory that you keep way down deep inside and dare not speak.  How you instantly feel a new connection with yourself.  How you are moved to tears BY yourself.

I slipped out alone tonight to quiet a craving for ice-cream and started channel surfing on the car stereo to quiet the thoughts in my head.  I landed on a station in commerical break before distracted by the menu and giving my order.  Just as I paid and started my way back home, a beat caught my attention.  I cranked it up and got ready for the ride.  Before I knew it, my eyes were full and the back of my throat was tight.  Rob Thomas has put thoughts I didn't know I had until I heard them put to his amazing melody.


It may not make sense to most, but to me it is not a song about a broken relationship; but of my amazing one.  "We've tried everything.  Life seems hard enough, but maybe we ain't meant for THIS love."  To me, it is just another sign.  Maybe it is time to end one dream so that we can make room for a new one.  That mockingbird will sing.

Wordless Wednesday - Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite!

I can't wait to have kiddos someday - flowers for the girls and bugs for the boys...all growing together.  No place to better see that then at Powell Gardens awesome BIG BUGS exhibit!

The Ants Go Marching One By One...Hoorah! Hoorah!

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

No Jiminy Crickets Here!

Fire and Water

Goin' to the Chapel

To Bee Or Not to Bee. (Look Closely!)

 
"Powell Gardens" Collection

Photos Taken: July 2010

No Editing
                                                                                                  
For more great Wordless Wednesdays and reading...check this out!

Namely Coincidental

Good men must die, but death cannot kill their names.. ~Proverb

Following the recent passing of my Grandmother, Eva, I took a few days of berevement to take care of family...and most of all myself.  I had not taken any time off when my dad died, none after the auto accident and none to gather my wits after losing my job.  As selfish as that sounds, my year has just been heartbreakingly insane and has been rushing by way too fast - seemingly starting to spiral out of control and I just needed to gain back some healthy perspective; to regroup and refocus my energies.

I started to release some of the tension buried deep down to my bones with time spent floating aimlessly and repeatedly around the lazy river.  Starting the day numb and in a gray foggy daze, the fresh air and sunshine worked its magic as I began to again hear the laughter of children, feel the warmth from the hot sun wrap me up like a thick familiar beach towel, taste the saltiness of chlorine in the air and see the brilliant bright blues of sky and water all around; replacing the dark and dull blue of my mood. 

In keeping with the color theme, my husband suggested that we take in a bit more of summer with the boys in blue!  While I'm a sucker for baseball at The K, our budget barely puts us in GA.  I reluctantly agreed to splurge since I'm an even bigger sucker for fireworks and after letting go of so much lately, I thought ending things with a bang would be just the spark I needed to get things moving again. 

Bickering over which ticket line would get us in the stadium faster, we were interrupted by an "Excuse me!" from softly behind.  "Excuse me!", we heard again, growing slightly more urgent each time.  Realizing the voice was addressing us, we finally answered.  "Are you two needing tickets for the game?", a young blonde asked.  Not your typical scalper, I thought.  "I have two here in my purse that I'm not using you can have", she continued, "I'm not trying to sell anything!  The only catch is that you have to sit by us", she gestured to her equally young and cute blonde little friend.  She explained that her family owned season passes and that they were unable to join her that night. 

We took her up on her offer for the tickets and to escort us to our new and FREE seats!  We followed her past general admission...past all the yummy food courts...past the view level seats until finally we turned to walk down the stairs towards home plate - down, down some more and down even farther until an attendant stopped us before we could walk down even MORE.  I looked at our tickets (did I mention they were FREE..woohoo!) and picked my jaw up off the floor and contain my utter (and yes, BLUE COLLAR) excitement.  These seats rocked!

We got settled, offered to buy the girls their ballpark dinner and drinks as a small token of our thanks before heading back up all the million stairs to fetch the feast.  Failing to introduce ourselves sooner, I reached out my hand and asked them their names.  "Oh sorry!" the petite ticket-giver-outer squealed!  "So nice to meet you, Gina!  My name is Eva!". 

Not only did she not run away when I rushed back through the isle, tripping over my own two feet to give her a big hug; she genuinely hugged me tightly back.

The night was perfect, the company the best, the Royals won and the fireworks reignited my soul.  Thanks Grandma!

The Last One Standing

I am an only child.

While being so is a topic for discussion in itself, it's just the beginning of how alone I feel today.  I am the last one standing, you see.  The last of the Hughes family - of our little clan anyway.  When my grandmother left this earth on Saturday, she did so to join the rest of them in heaven; her grandson, her husband and her two sons.  

I had a brother once.  He lived for two days when I was three years old.  I remember being excited and preparing for the new baby by practicing with my dolls as any good big sister-to-be does; slinging them around carelessly by one arm and wrapping them up so tightly in a blanket they were sure to suffocate.  His name was Jeffrey.  I lay babies breath on his grave each year and can't wait to meet him someday.

 My grandfather was a kind man who was soft spoken and laughed much.  He sang gospel in a tenor voice that would make birds stop to listen.  He battled weight and complications with diabetes until he lost the war when I was nine.

My uncle was an absolute blast.  Forever young, incredibly handsome and always rebellious, he was full of funny character and life.  Still an ornery little boy when my parents met, he made an annoyance of his pesky self on their dates together.  My mother once told her future mother-in-law, "If I ever had a child like that....!" to which was replied back to her, "Be careful what you are wishing for!".  Four years later I was born - the spitting image and personality of my uncle.  He was snatched from us as a result of a motorcycle wreck when I was nineteen.  His body tried to hang on for a few weeks after that fateful accident, but his brain and spirit were already gone.  My grandmother was forced to make the impossible decision of "pulling the plug".  In taking one life, they both gave it to so many others by donating organs through the Midwest Transplant Network.  Truly a selfless gift that lives on still today.

My father passed away just seven months ago.  He was a complicated contradiction between being the life of the party and withdrawing into his own cavernous self; the sociable guy that others wanted to be around vs. the introvert that would rather shut out the world in his basement by drowning it all out with headphones or watch a movie alone in the darkness.  He was smart; dictionary freakshow smart.  He was a collector of all things.  All things were of interest to him.  He knew everything there was to know about nothing at all.  I loved to visit my dad and marvel at his 'stuff'.  As I grew up we grew apart, probably because we are so much alike.  My dad was a lymphoma survivor and an over-comer of addictions; strong man in body, mind, opinions and convictions.  The treatment required to save his life in one decade had made him weak for the next.  Before he died he had made amends with most - including me.  He died in peace.  

Since that time, my grandma had just grown weary.  She had taken medicine to get her through her grief that reacted poorly with her body.  As toxins filled her blood she had frequent talks with her boys.  She missed them fiercely and cursed the fate that had left her behind.  She had me.  She had her husband of 35 years, my step-grandfather.  She loved us both.  But she was called home.  I am happy that she is finally happy.  That was my reaction after the initial shock and tears as I got the news after work, alone in the parking lot on Friday.  An odd and almost inappropriate laughter came over me - hysteria had taken over maybe - delirium.  But I could picture them all together again like a snapshot of bygone days.  They are all now together in spirit and in body, laid to rest together in the family plot cemetery.

I am sad that I was unable to have a baby of my own before they were gone.  That would have made them all so happy.  It's all my grandma talked about!  But maybe with all those angels in heaven looking down on me - my purpose will definitely soon be revealed.  Maybe in being the last one standing now, it is only to make me appreciate what is to come even more.  I can't wait to find out!  And when that plan is revealed, I will surely be laughing like crazy as tears of joy overcome me; and the warm love of family will surround me again.

Wordless Wednesday - Bark is Bigger

...but JUST IN CASE!...

One of my best friends came to visit and stay with me for a week.  The Furbaby was not so thrilled with her new accessory!

"Bark is Bigger" 

Photo Taken:  9 July 2010

No Editing.

For more great Wordless Wednesdays and Reading!

Triple Threat

When you are desperately trying to have a child, just ONE child...it seems like everyone else is accomplishing what you cannot.  Let alone endure those who have having multiples!  What a nerve wracking blessing.  

So was my Saturday...

...and honestly, it was fine.

I was fine.

I am fine! 

My Skewed Perception of Inception

I just saw "Inception".   

This is my kind of flick; "The Matrix" meets "Romeo and Juliet" of sorts that suddenly swan dives into the subconscious with mind-bending and soul-bearing power.  What does this have to do with babies and my journey thereof?  Maybe it's in the realm between reality and dreams - but it moved me in a way I can't stop thinking about.  I'm also pretty sure I was the only one leaving the theater in utter tears!

The main character was trapped.  Trapped in a life of running, trapped within his own mind and trapped in the past.  The thing that set him free and kept him alive (in one dimension or another anyway) was a memory of his children.  They were the light that guided him through all the darkness as he fought to find his way back to them.  We are unable to see their sweet faces throughout the film as a reflection of what their father is able to recall.  We find out later that there is a pivotal moment that could have provided closure and a better snapshot of this memory.  It turns out to be his biggest regret.  To know the moment you made a wrong choice - a choice that you will regret for the rest of your life; the combination of themes (out of SO many in the movie) was on that tugs at my heart.

I found myself also searching for those tow-headed fictional children on the big screen; for their light and for my purpose.