This video was a birthday gift to his wife who had been diagnosed with cancer.  Get a tissue handy... 



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She passed away 2 weeks ago.  Lets all say a prayer for the Anderson family and for all of the families just like them. 

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Almost a year ago, I was determined to get my body into shape before I destroyed it with another pregnancy.  When I started going to an exercise class, I was happy to learn that it was a month to month membership because I was positive that I would be pregnant after a few months.  I just wanted to drop 20 pounds and tighten up my gelatinous tummy.  Joke is on me 12 months later!  But, really, that is beside the point. 

The first day, I parked my truck and saw a group of men and women standing outside of the door.  Trying to be social, I climbed out of my truck and joined them.  From looking at the website O was prepared to see a bunch of meat heads and incredibly fit women working on toning their already flat and defined abs.  This crowd, that stood patiently waiting on the teacher to show up to open the building, looked to have an average age of 45 years old.  I was feeling instantly better about the environment.  To avoid awkward silence, I started asking questions.

There was a man and a woman that I will guess to be in their mid to late sixties, who had arrived together and were as sweet as apple pie.  They answered all of my questions, coached me along during my first class even when I was flopping around like a overturned beetle.  I wasn't too proud to take coaching, support and pointers from this nice old couple.  I was just happy they weren't making fun of me!  In my next classes, they always remembered my name, helped me get settled in, and even invited to me to a social get-together they were having that weekend.  Just the sweetest people.

In a town of less than 800 people it is not only likely, but probable, that you will run into people in town.  With this couple, I saw them at the grocery store together dressed as trendy and cute as I have seen any "older" couple.  They were in great shape.  You know, after a year of interactions, I began to think of them as representative of all old, sweet, wonderful, happy, healthy married couples. 

On Saturday, after the majority of the class had cleared out and I was heading for the door, my heart was unexpectedly broken.  A fellow exercise buddy, told me the saddest news I have heard in a long time.  The dear sweet couple had broken up and he had left her for another woman. 

I just don't understand this.  I think TV and movies have ruined us.  We are being slowly trained to think that love is fireworks, butterflies in our stomachs, and kisses that make our insides tingle.  Those things all feel good, don't get me wrong, but to expect that feeling every single day for the rest of our lives is just immature.  After we have enjoyed the falling in love phase, we are able to enjoy the other wonderful feelings of a relationship.  The comfortable courtship of two adults who love each other and are having fun planning and living the rest of their lives is .  Children are raised.  Laughter and laundry are the sounds and smells of the house.  Meals are shared, stories told, and cuddles exchanged.  Then, when the children are grown, the fireworks and tingles are long gone, so many think that they have fallen out of love.

Not the case.  We are just ready to move on to the next stage of love.  This is the stage that I most look forward to.  The part where we know that no other person in the whole wide world knows more about us than our spouse.  We know each others stories of before we met and the rest of lives we have experienced together.  He will be able to predict my responses, emotions, and desires without me even speaking.  I will be able to do the same for him.  We might be comfortably side by side in our recliners, him with a news paper (if they even still print them anymore) and me with lifetime movies playing around the clock, but we will be together.  We will be able to look at each other and know that this person has loved me through difficult moments, through 20 extra pounds, through the darkest hours and loves me despite it all.  He is the one who held my hand when I gave birth to our children.  To me, that is the fireworks I am looking forward to!

To leave a spouse for greener grass is cheating yourself out of the real deep love that God has made us capable of.  Anyone can get tingly and excited about a first kiss with someone new, but never will you be able to feel that real true connection to another human being.  That thrill of knowing that His Story and Her Story became Our Story. 

It just breaks my heart to see a couple feel like they are missing something when the truth is, what they are going to miss is far better than butterflies in their stomachs.  My thoughts and prayers are with this couple.  I pray they see what they will miss before it is too late.


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"Mom?"
"What?"
"Mom?"
"What, Honey?"
"Mom?"
"Gavin, I said 'what' twice already. What do you need?"
"Oh. Okay mom. Uh.... Mom?"



"I'm done resting, mom. Can I get up?"
"Not yet honey. It has only been 5 minutes."
"But I'm not tired. I want to get up."
"I'll let you know when it is time to get up."
"Okay. How 'bout now?"
"Gavin. Honey. Get some rest okay."
"How 'bout now? How 'bout now? How 'bout now?"



While I could probably come up with about 15 examples of times where Gavin has made me want to pull out my hair, he always manages to make it all worth while. Yesterday, I was coming home from the grocery store. As I pulled up to the house, I see Doug sitting in the front yard with Gavin sitting on his lap. Gavin's eyes peeked around his hood and without seeing his mouth I knew he was smiling. In his little hand was the most beautiful bouquet of dandelions spilling over the top of his hand. I took an extra second to park the car because I had to take a mental photograph of that adorable image. After the car was parked, Gavin stood up and ran over to me and says, "Mommy! I picked these just for you!" Doug told me that as Gavin picked the dandelions he said, "Mommy will think these are the most beautiful flowers!" In that one moment, he reminded me why I love being a mom.

I read a story a while back about a mother who committed suicide in the bathroom of her home. She intentionally overdosed on prescription medication by swallowing not just a few extra pills but an entire prescription bottle full of pills. She was found when a neighbor heard a baby crying in the house for an extended period of time. The neighbor went over and found the baby tear stained and exhausted in his crib and the mother dead in the bathroom.

When I first read this story I was just so sad. Sad for the mom that she was so depressed. Then, so sad for the baby boy who was left without his mommy. But after just a few minutes my sadness turned to anger. Let's just put aside the fact that she was leaving her little boy without a mom for the rest of his life but she knowingly and intentionally committed suicide with her baby in the house, in the crib, alone, scared, with no one to protect him.

After getting over the initial shock and anger I started to wonder about that poor kids life. How he will alway be missing an important piece of his life by not having his mom. He will likely have a life of sadness, confusion, depression, and an overall lack of direction. We wouldn't ever do this to our kids. Or would we?

I have heard so many people talk about how they are going to raise their children and then when they are old enough, the kids can choose what they want to believe in when it comes to God. I don't think this would be that bad if the parents were really teaching them about God. But most of the parents that I hear say this aren't exactly church goers or readers of the bible. They are just as clueless as the kids are, and they are going to leave the decision up to the kids because, well, honestly, they don't have a clue what they believe so how can they tell their kids what to believe.

I think these parents are laying in a bathtub full of water with a hand full of pills, a glass of water, and a crying baby in the crib. That baby doesn't know what is going on. If that parent follows through and swallows those pills, leaving the child to decide for themselves if they believe in God with no guidance from their parents, then the parents are sentencing their child to a life of sadness, confusion, depression, and an overall lack of direction.

Let's not do this to our children. Let's teach our children about God. Teach them about who He is and how powerful He is. If AFTER we teach them all there is to know about Him and then they choose to not believe in Him then, as parents, we have done all that we can do. But, please, don't expect them to learn all there is to know about God on their own, in a crib, alone, scared, with no one to protect them. God gave us these wonderful little people to hug, love, and call our own. Let's teach them about who sent them to us.

I have an aunt that used to drive me crazy. She insisted on hugs and kisses every time we said goodbye. Every time. Even if we were all leaving one place and all going to be meeting at a second place. I would always try to give a wave with a general, "See ya!" Never worked. She would, without warning, be planting a kiss, complete with a sticky lipstick print, and giving a full frontal tight hug. I would be saying to myself, "You have got to be kidding me. I am going to see you again in no more than 30 minutes! Is this really necessary?!"

After a visit to Grandma today, the goodbye routine sort of made sense. After visiting for about an hour, Gavin was showing signs that he was ready to go. Joey was getting fussy probably because of being hungry and the fact that the old people like to keep the thermostat set at 74 and then have the fireplace going on top of that. So, I packed up the boys' toys and things and reminded Gavin to give Grandma hugs and kisses. Then I did the same. I told her I loved her. I have noticed that in the last few months I have been saying it a little differently. Not just the typical, "I love you." I make eye contact and say the words with emphasis so that I hope she hears in my voice just how much I do love her. Then I picked up my stuff and headed out to the cool breathable air. As I walk to my car I force myself to think that there is a possibility that I just told Grandma goodbye for the last time. I am not trying to be morbid. Just honest. She is 98 years old and while one tends to think that people die after a battle with an illness or during a hospital stay, it is most likely that Grandma will pass away in her sleep. It could happen today. Next week. Maybe next year. Or maybe she will be around for another few years. But, just in case, I need to make sure I tell her how much I love her.

The truth is, just because she is 98 does put her at a higher risk of passing away before the next time I see her but any one of us could be living our last day. I am going to try to be more like my aunt. I don't know if this is why she insists on the hugs and kisses at every parting but it's not a bad thing to do. God may call us or a loved one home at any moment. I want to do my best to make sure that everyone knows how much I love them. It might be my last opportunity.

After I graduated from college, I moved home. I had no job lined up. I had no real plans. I just couldn't turn down living rent free in a huge house that, while owned by my parents, could be all mine for as long as I needed it. I found a job. Found a better job. Then another. Then a great job. The same could be said about my boyfriends. But, I soon found myself single and still living in my parents' house.

Their house is on a large plot of land that has a total of 3 houses on it. Their house, what we call the Barr House, and the farm house. Living in the Barr House was a woman in her late 50s. She was the mother to the two women living in the farm house along with a man. The threesome was living in the farmhouse for a few months and while I was aware of them, I figured that if the guy wasn't dating one of the sisters, then he was certainly gay. I had never heard of a straight guy living with women unless he was sleeping with one of them or exchanging make-up and fashion advice.

I had recently decided to get a dog so that I wouldn't be lonely in the big empty house anymore. I was outside trying to wear him out since he was a very "active" puppy and saw one of the girls from the farm house walking with her dog up the lane. We chatted for a few minutes and she invited me up to the house for margaritas with her and her sister. She seemed like someone I could hang out with so I accepted the offer. That was the day that I met "the guy" that lived in the farm house.

It was April 15th and Doug was frantically working on filing his taxes online. He didn't pay much attention to me since I think his priority was his taxes. But, that was it. I met him on tax day. There were no fireworks. No love at first sight. Just margaritas, a cigarette, and a glance.

Over the next weeks I began spending more and more time at the farm house hanging out with the girls and having a few conversations here and there with Doug. I learned that he was, in fact, straight, and single. I was shocked to learn that not only was he not dating either of the girls, he never had. Over time Doug and I started spending more time talking until the moon would be shining and we would agree that it was time for me to walk, with my dog, back to my house. This started happening nearly every night so it was pretty obvious to everyone that we were in a budding relationship. Everyone, except Doug.

I thought I had made my intentions as clear as if I had an airplane write it in the sky. The girls knew it. Doug on the other hand was acting as if I was just a really nice girl that he liked to hang out with. Which was nice and all. Don't get me wrong! I just thought that after a couple of months of getting to know each other he would have at least tried to kiss me.

One Sunday afternoon, after hanging out most of the day, he asked if I wanted to go to dinner with him. I instantly got butterflies thinking, "He finally gets it! Yeah! A date at long last." As he tells the story today, he makes it clear that this was not a date. I don't know how asking a girl to dinner is not a date but at this point, it isn't worth arguing over.

About a week after the dinner, I managed to get a 5 second full frontal hug. I should say that the only reason I got a hug that lasted at least 5 seconds is because I admitted to him that if I didn't, I had to buy lunch for my co-workers. I must say that I am a bit thankful for the threat from my co workers. If they hadn't made this little wager, I may never have gotten the hug. Doug may have never realized that I was liking him as much as I was. Who knows if I ever would have convinced him that I was going to be his wife one day if I couldn't even get the guy to hug me!? Asking for a hug was maybe the best thing, and possibly the most awkward thing, I ever did.