Life as We Know It

Today I am grateful:

1. We are picking up my mom tonight as she's heading in to help for a couple of weeks. When Mom's around, life is easy. She's so kind and nice to have around. She buzzes around the kitchen cooking and doing dishes. She cuts up salads like none other--tiny little pieces. She even shreds the carrots. Who shreds the carrots?? And she will do my laundry and keep up with the vacuuming.

Maybe she'll decide to move in with us for the next few months.

2. Savana is asleep in her bed. She's weak and terribly thin. She can hardly eat and she needs to take a nap after taking a shower as standing for fifteen minutes wears her out. But she's alive. She is out of the hospital and off of oxygen and we can have the lights on. The past ten days are a blur in my head--filled with images of the highway and white coats and stethescopes and IV's and machines that beep. The past ten days are a swarm of tears and moments of panic and, finally, the reality that all will be well. And it is. She has a road ahead of her to regain her strength...but she will get there. And that is a beautiful thing.

3. A community of friends near and far. If this past ten days showed me anything, it showed me that. So many peopled shared their love by Facebook messages and Facebook comments and phone calls and hospital visits and flowers and helping with Jace. I know Savana was lifted up in prayer around the nation and I am so touched by so many caring hearts. I don't begin to know how to say thank you thank you thank you.

4. The amazing people I work with every day. I have zero vacation time at this point as I've only been at my job for a little over a month. But when I went to work bright and early Monday morning, one of the lawyers that I work with, Hanna, came by my desk and said, "Vonda, you should go be with your family. They need you right now."  I explained how I don't have any sick time accumulated nor do I have vacation days. She laughed and said, "That doesn't matter. We all understand." Not even five minutes later, my boss came by and said, "Vonda, go home. I'm not asking. I'm telling. Come back when you're in a better place. Work will still be here." And so I did. I left, so touched by these kind people that I have the privelege of working with five days out of the week. They are all a whole lot of wonderful.

5. It stormed last night. Thunder shook the roof of our home and rain pummeled down. Jace and I stood at the front door and watched it for a few minutes, both of us grinning ear to ear, as nature unleashed. 

6. I went to a baby shower last night for Zach and Riley McDonald. And I couldn't help but revel in the excitement of a new life. Riley is pregnant now as she is due any day but she is beaming with the prospect of so much joy ahead of her. Life is filled with beauty...so much beauty. 

7. Roy and I went for a golfcart ride last night just before sunset. We rode through campus, talking the whole way. He's my best friend. Gosh I'm a lucky girl.

8. As Roy and I were riding on the golfcart, we stopped for a moment and looked at APCS--all the lights off and kid-free. My thoughts envisioned how the school will look in a few short weeks--bustline with running kids and activities and art projects and music and sports and so many good things. I am so glad that Jace has such a great place to call his own. I am so thankful for Erin who is taking the challenge of leading the "ship." I know she's going to be spot-on amazing and I can't wait to watch her shine. Yay!!! that Jace gets to be a part of her regime. That, too, is a whole lot of wonderful.

9. Savana's car will be out of the shop today. She was riding down the road in front of McDonald's just before she got sick and a driver didn't see her and pulled out directly in front of her. (July wasn't Savana's month.) But the good news is Savana and the other driver were both just fine. The car? Not so much. But, $5000 later (which didn't cost us a dime, thankfully), her car is finally finished. Roy is picking it up today and surprising Savana with it. She was provided a rental car free of charge as well and that car has been a blessing in the midst of this past bit of craziness. But today? It marks the end of this past adventure. Life is getting back to normal. 

10. Life as we know it. Everything can change on a dime. Life as we know it can become a whole different set of circumstances in the blink of an eye. But our normal hasn't changed. There's a temporary hiccup as Savana regains her strength. But the good news is, she will regain her strength. She will be as good as new in a bit. It could have been otherwise. It could have been a whole new world for us. 

But it isn't.

And I am grateful. So so very grateful.

Another Face in the Crowd

Everyone has a story. 

Sometimes, when I am walking down the street or in a mall, I can't help but wonder, when I see different people, what their story is. How did you two meet? or  What was your mom like? or Where did you go to school?

Buncombe County promotes health and fitness. One of their incentives is to allow all of their employees to walk for twenty minutes during the workday and it's "free"; in other words, it doesn't cut into the lunch hour. And so we four paralegals take a daily walk around Asheville. It's great fun and I look forward to it each morning. We all don our walking shoes and off we go, traipsing the sidewalks through town and spiraling back until, twenty minutes later, we're at the back door of the building where we work. I always am clueless: Where are we? Four weeks later and I still haven't quite figured out how these girls know where they are going...but we always manage to get back on time and in just the right place.

Anyway, yesterday one of the girls needed to stop by the bank and so three of us waited outside while she did her thing. I don't think any of us said a word--just stood quietly on the sidewalk and watched people go by. One of them was this comical guy wearing quite loud socks up to his knees, hair braided down the center of his back. A family of three walked by, the little girl reaching up for all she was worth to hold her daddy's hand. So refreshing. 

After a few minutes of the three of us standing there, Caroline said, I just love people-watching.

It fascinates me how we are all so alike. We all have childhoods that resonate (hopefully) with parents and friends and a place to call home. We all have a love story--meeting our special someone and experiencing the myriad of emotions that brings. We all have trials and joys and philosophies from which we build our lives. And most likely, if we could hear each person's story, we'd understand differences. 

I really like my boss. She is quite young and a bit earthy. She recently married and as I was meeting with her yesterday, she had a picture of her and her husband on her computer screen that I got a glimpse of before she clicked on something she wanted me to see. Her man is quite a looker. I wanted to stare for a second but of course...she's my boss. So I didn't ask her to Hold on. I want to check out your wedding photo!

But as I looked at her picture, I couldn't help but wonder where they met, what life was like in their home. I wonder that often as I meander the halls of the building and peak into various cubicles. Most everyone has pictures of their special someones hanging on their cubicle walls--laughing partners and adorable smiling children. Once in awhile I hear one of the girls in the room talking to her husband on the phone and she's always so cheerful, so warm. And it's then that I want to say, What's your story?

Because, most likely, their relationship wasn't always coming up roses. Most love stories are filled with drama and angst and questions. It's a rare couple--if any--who met, dived into love and then sailed through the wedding without a hitch. 

Recently I was talking to a young girl who is in the beginning stages of love. She can't help but analyze and over-analyze every twitch of feeling that she has. I get that. How well I remember asking people What's it like to fall in love? How do you know if you're really in love? Sometimes media makes us play tricks on ourselves, expecting our prince to ride in on his white horse and whisk us away, all smiles and flowers and love songs and chocolate.

But it's rarely that simple. Love is filled with stages of questions and wonderings and analyzations. Not every couple that gets together knows from the very first instant (though, of course, there are a few out there, Tammy Vaughan).

Love is a journey and each story is unique and beautiful in its own rite. And really...who doesn't love a good love story? But for that matter, we are each one big story. We each have common experiences and realities that, if you break them apart, aren't that different from anyone else's...and yet....

The truth is, our lives are built on experiences that are uniquely ours. We are a composite of the day to day...

...the memories, the dreams, the tragedies, the joys, the failures, the conversations--

...that all create perceptions that build our lives. 

And no journey is like another's.

It's our own very personal, very unique story...

And yet--we're just another face in the crowd.

Wherever You Go....

After a most fabulous, amazing week....we are home. We were wined and dined and treated as royalty for seven entire days. A week of more delectable foods than I could list and Broadway-like shows and snorkeling and walking 20 feet underwater with a helmet on my head so that I could breathe and watch colorful fish swim directly in front of my face and sleeping in and an endless supply of mixed drinks (virgin-style) and shaded whirlpools and watching the ocean go by on the deck with book in hand...and all with my favorite guy right by my side.

Fabulous.

But? I am glad to be home. I missed my kids so much it hurt and I missed my routine and my pets and my flowers and my porch swing. I missed so many things that are so good about my life.

I would have to say, though, that my absolutely favorite thing about our week was hanging on our balcony and watching the ocean roll by. Never-ending waves that spanned as far as the eye could see. I thought about so many things while I was standing out there on that balcony multiple times a day: how many kinds of fish were swimming underneath us; the courage of Columbus so many eons ago; the horror of falling overboard or going down with the ship (yeah...that's not exactly a peaceful thought but I couldn't help wondering about that practically every time I looked over the walls of my balcony); and the wonder of our world.

In the mornings when Roy would wake up, as he always woke up first, he would get out of bed and throw open the curtains so we could watch the sun wake up over the horizon. From our bed we could see the ocean beyond us, lazily rolling by, as the sky burst with splendor. We just lay there and watched, not saying a word. And then at night? We strolled out on the deck and watched the sun go down, the last edges of light barely peaking over the horizon.

It was breathtaking.

And we met so many amazing people. We met a little couple in their mid 70's who ate lunch beside us one day. They were so cute, asking us questions about our lives with genuine interest. The man's name was Bobby and he said, "If there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that we never need to worry. Life always has a way of working out. And I've gone through some pretty tough times but I manage to come out on the other side all the better. Every time." These two loved each other and we had so much fun chatting with them.

We met Damian who was one of our waiters from Bermuda. Every evening after we had eaten our main course he would say, "Are you ready for some yum-yum? There's always room for yummy-yummy!" He was practically a kid--still in his 20's, and on our last day he shared with me how he had a little seven-year old girl in Jamaica and he desperately wanted to be a good daddy. That is why he worked the ship--so he could send her money and see her on the weeks that the ship stopped on that island (which was every other week).

We met a couple from Ireland who always vacation in the States. They were about our age and had chosen to not have kids because...they take too much time and focus. (I can't imagine my life without my kids. They're missing so much wonderful.) But probably our favorite person we met was a guy named Boaventura. (Roy called him Ace.) He was our head waiter and he had the cutest smile ever and was so genuinely kind. From India, he has a wife back home and a little three year old girl. He only gets to go home after seven months on the ship and stays for nine weeks before doing it all again. But he said, "It's how I provide for my family and so it's what I have to do."

Blessings to you, Boaventura.

The one thing both Roy and I noticed, though--sadly--is that so many people seemed so sad, so stressed, so in their own heads. Here they were on this spectacular cruise that offered so much wonder on every side and yet...their foreheads were creased with worry and their words were short. Many, exhausted,  wrestled crying children and the stress was evident on their faces.

One evening, Damian said, "People come on the boat to escape their lives and when they get here, they realize that their lives followed them."

Wherever you go, there you are.

This past week, I was reminded to take life slowly, to breathe in the good stuff. I was reminded to focus on the present, leaving the past behind and the future right where it is...in the future. Life passes by. We long for a future event to arrive and...it does. And then it's gone. Sorrows happen...but then they pass. And if we are constantly spinning in our heads, we will come to the end of our lives and realize that we haven't really lived.

I am thankful that I am home. I am thankful for kind neighbors who plan fun activities for Jace and make his days brighter as he adjusts to a new life at home. I am thankful for a husband who is one amazing "wife". I am thankful that we are planning our next vacation that will somehow involve dolphins. I am thankful for my new job that keeps me challenged and excited for each new day. Most of all...I am thankful for my here and now.

I am thankful for today.

The Game of Life

My weekend is almost at an end. It has been great. We didn't really do anything spectacular or noteworthy but.....it was filled with the little things. Jace had a couple of friends over for a sleepover in honor of his birthday so my living room was filled with giggling, wiggling boys. This evening we went out to eat at El Que Pasa, complete with Guerin and Savana (wish we could have had Darian too) so that was a  whole lot of wonderful. I did more loads of laundry today than I can count and the last load is finally in the dryer. I made pasta salad to snack on this week and have everything I need to throw together smothered burritos at a moment's notice.  I've picked out my clothes for work tomorrow and I even know what I'm packing for my lunch.

I feel successful.

But with all of that said, we got some tragic news early Saturday morning. A friend (Greg Budd) from Wisconsin was killed tragically while riding his motorcycle to meet his wife (Lesa) so they could celebrate their anniversary together at campmeeting. A deer plowed into him and, though he was able to call 911 and text his wife, he was brain dead shortly thereafter.

And so, though my weekend has been fabulous, in the back of my mind has been this running thought: while I am laughing and enjoying the sunshine, a family I know has been desemated. 

While doing the dishes on Saturday afternoon, I couldn't help but stare out my kitchen window and wonder: Does every breath that Lesa takes ache?

When I helped Roy with the truck for just a few minutes as he has been working relentlessly to get it in tip-top shape so that when Darian takes it to college in the fall it will be trustworthy, I felt that nagging thought come tumbling in: Lesa is all alone now. Her husband is no longer by her side.

It's utterly tragic. How does one cope with such tragedy? with such a senseless death? How do we make sense of it all?

Greg was one of those men who was genuinely kind, the rock of his family. And so people have been posting on Facebook. One of my previous students who is now a mother of three posted: Why do such awful things have to happen to the best people?

Earlier today I was watching a tv show--a fictional drama--and a young girl who was, in the show, recently converted goes to a boys' home to talk to them about hope. One of the boys sneered and said, If God is so good, why did my family die, leaving me alone?

It is the age-old question that leaves us grappling with the why's of life for which there really are no answers. We can't make sense of more things than we can, frankly. All we can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and forging our way through the darkness until, finally, a glimmer of sunlight can be seen somewhere out in the distant fog.

I've been there--maybe not like the blackness Lesa is experiencing tonight. But I've been flat on my back before, screaming why into echoing stillness. I've grappled with questions that left me filled with gut-wrenching agony. My path hasn't always been paved with gold. At some point in life, we will all be there. It's inevitable.

But that reality doesn't make Lesa's any easier to bear. And though she doesn't know it--and most likely never will--I am holding her close in my thoughts tonight. I am rooting for her to keep moving forward, to keep breathing. Most likely that's all she can manage to do right now--just breathe.

And meanwhile, I am going to soak in the moments of my life. On Saturday, a precious friend of mine, Erin, came in to visit for a bit when she dropped off Josh to stay the night with Jace. We were talking about family dinners -- those wholesome moments when we all join together around the table for a meal. Sometimes, these past four years, I feel badly because our family dinners which were once so routine and every day have become...well, a relic of the past. But Erin, in her sweet, empathetic way told me how she refused to feel guilty anymore about not meeting the ideals of her own childhood but, rather, embraced the way life worked for them. And so, if they managed to have family dinner one day a week...well then. Hoorah! Be grateful for the one day! I like that philosophy. It's easy; it's kind to one's self. And today? Well, today I think that's important to remember. Life is short. There are no guarantees. So be kind to others and...be kind to yourself.

I haven't exactly figured out what mealtime is going to look like around here now that I have an 8-5. I haven't quite mastered the art of grocery shopping (other than giving a list to Roy since he is on summer break), nor have I conquered all of the goals I have for myself. The hutch in my dining room is still more cluttered than not. I have a lot of dirt in places that taunts me.

But tonight I am grateful for problems that leave me searching for answers because I am alive to search. I am grateful for laundry that is piled high because it means my family is active and well. I am grateful for dirt that beckons because it means that, barring a tragedy, the day will come when I will clean it, feeling proud and accomplished.

I am thankful that blood flows through my veins, that I have a job to go to in the morning, that I haven't figured out all of the answers to life's greatest questions because it means I am alive. I am a part of this whole human experience that is both beautiful and agonizing. We all share the common bond of tragedy. But we also share the common bond of laughter, of hope, of dreams. We have no right to judge because, really, we are knit together as one. We are all soldiers in this game of life, doing the best we can.

Hugs to you, dear Lesa.

Worth the Wait

In eleven days I will be heading to Florida for a seven day cruise. In eleven days I will be experiencing my dream vacation--something I have wanted to do since I was engaged and contemplating how I wanted to spend my honeymoon.

But in those days--way back in the day--we were poor as church mice as we were college students with student loans. We got married on Sunday, August 2, and Roy's contract officially started on Monday, August 3. Since we didn't really have the money for a honeymoon, we decided to do the smart thing and drove straight to Colorado and he started on Tuesday. I will forever remember how the Campion Academy staff threw us a surprise wedding shower that Tuesday evening, complete with a picnic supper and a wheelbarrow decorated with ribbons and filled with gifts. Once all the gifts were opened, they made Roy push me around in it--but I don't remember the reason for that. But it was a joy-filled party and I basked in all of that newlywed attention.

We got quite a bit of money of money from gifts from others and after setting up our little home with all of the necessities of living with the exception of a vacuum cleaner (I borrowed one from the girls' dorm--trekking over and asking the dean if I could use it; carried it back to the apartment; vacuumed; carried it back to the dorm), we had a whopping $100 left.

Campion Academy is nestled at the base of the Rocky Mountains. We quickly discovered this heavenly drive up those majestic beasts to this little town at the very top called Estes Park. It was a bit of a tourist attraction and we absolutely loved it there. They had this grand all-white motel complete with pillars that we drove by on every trip up and we both longed to stay there--just one night. We dreamed about it so much that I called to see what it cost. A whopping $100.

And so, since we had foregone the honeymoon for practicality, we decided that gosh, wouldn't it be fun to just be carefree for a minute and spend a night in that luxurious motel?! And so we booked an evening one weekend, packed our suitcase, and headed up the mountain for a night of romance and splendor and pampered glory.

But on the trek up, I started thinking about that vacuum cleaner and my regular treks to the girls' dorm. We were still so poor. Roy made a whopping $17,000 (still remember that figure), and I was a college student so every penny counted. And so, with a heavy sigh, I said, You know, we could buy a vacuum cleaner with that $100.

And so we went to Estes Park, walked around, enjoyed the day. And then we headed home, stopping by Walmart on the way so that we could put that $100 to use on something practical.

I've never regretted it.

A couple of months later, the principal of our school, Hal Hampton, told Roy that there were a group of kids that needed a ride to Wyoming for homeleave, and since we hadn't taken a honeymoon, he offered that trip to Roy, claiming the school would provide the vehicle and the gas and the motel so go enjoy yourselves.

And so we did, dropping the kids in Wyoming on a Wednesday and then trekking through Mount Rushmore and Yellowstone National Park. It was a fabulous trip and we both loved every minute of it. And other than our food? It was free.

But my dream vacation still beckoned. We always talked of how someday we would take a cruise. About the time we could finally afford one as we were both teaching full-time, I discovered I was pregnant with Ciara. My mom came to live with us to help care for her, and Roy's mom visited often. It wasn't long before I was pregnant with Savana and so, in the early days of my pregnancy with her, Roy and I decided....you know, we're about to have two babies. We should take a cruise now while our moms are here to care for Ciara. And so, we booked it. We even put a few hundred dollars down on a cruise that sailed out of Las Angeles. That's all that I remember other than the fact I dreamed and imagined and hoped that day would arrive quickly as I simply couldn't wait.

But...as each day got a little closer...and closer...to the actual boarding of the ship...Roy and I both got cold feet. Ciara was such a fragile baby and her life was no guarantee. I'm not sure which one of us suggested that maybe we should cancel the cruise, but I do know that once those words were out, the other of us leaped at the idea. We cancelled, losing our down payment in the process, but no matter. We couldn't bear leaving our precious baby girl.

And so we opted instead to spend a couple of nights in a motel nearby. That way if our moms called to say there were problems, we could whisk home on a dime. Roy's mom had already made plans to be there the week of the scheduled cruise so Ciara had plenty of care.

We packed our bags, booked the motel, and headed out one evening for two nights and three days of splendor, freedom, stress-free living.

But...I can't even remember how many times we called home that evening we were away from Ciara. We'd never left her before for more than a couple of hours and I had a difficult time trusting anyone to care for her as I did. She had problems breathing, and since she was kind of a loud breather, I could hear her stop taking a breath from anywhere in the house. She's not breathing! I would call, and whoever was holding her would massage her chest a bit, and she'd gasp. I was always listening for that when I was home.

And so, we called. A lot. How's Ciara? Is she breathing? Has she had any seizures? Is she okay? Should we come home?

But of course...everything was fine. Our moms happily answered all of our questions, assuring us that she was just fine and we should feel free to enjoy ourselves.

We went home early the next morning.

And then, of course, we had Savana...and a couple of years later we had Darian...and we trekked across the country on a teacher's salary, moving from place to place while I worked part-time as I couldn't bear to be away from my babies for too long. We went on plenty of trips through the years but most of them involved visiting family and such as we couldn't really afford much more...but honestly, those were good times and I don't regret any of it.

But now? Life is different. The girls are grown. Jace will be happily playing at camp. We have nothing to detour us. The cruise is officially paid for.

And so, on July 6 we are going to sail away. We're going to laugh and dance and watch the sunset from our balcony. We're going to explore St. Thomas and St. Marteen, walking hand in hand along the beach.

Totally carefree.

It has been worth the wait.

Breathing

Yesterday I modernized my bookshelves that are housed in the living room. I did a search on Pinterest and found several that I copied so that I must admit: It looks a lot better. Same books. Same stuff. But I like it.

Anyway, in the midst of all of my re-organizing, I came across a book entitled A Dummy's Guide to Keeping Life Simple. It made me chuckle a bit. I can't even tell you how many years that book has been there, practically under my nose, yet I completely forgot about it. And so I picked it up, browsed through the pages quickly, and put it back--saving it for a day when I have a bit more time for such things.

On the same shelf were two small notebooks with cute, decorative covers. Inside each I had started a list: a bucket list and a list of best memories. Great idea, Vonda. Too bad you didn't get beyond the first page.

But honestly, just seeing those notebooks and the Keeping it Simple book inspired me. They inspired me to dream big, to declutter, to live healthfully and simply, to not spend, to cherish, to take long walks and breathe. They inspired me to live my life with purpose and free from regrets.

This past weekend, we drove to Myrtle Beach to spend Saturday evening with friends who were headed there from Wisconsin. We arrived early in the afternoon and since they weren't going to be there 'til later that evening, we had several hours to spend together. Roy isn't exactly a beach person as he grew up on the beach and worked hard, long hours on boats both in and out of the ocean. And so seeing this wide expanse of water and running his toes through cool, smooth sand doesn't exactly breathe heaven to him. But a storm had just passed through and so the temperatures had cooled a bit. I grabbed his hand and said, "Come on. Walk the beach with me." And he did. And gosh it was fun--just the two of us walking hand in hand and watching young families build sand castles with their kids and toss their squealing babies in waves (holding them dearly the whole time).

On Sunday we picked up Jace from camp as he has been gone all week (I missed him so much). He was swimming in the pool with a bunch of other kids and I thought, How am I ever going to find him in that herd? But suddenly I heard, MOM!!!!!  And there he was, clinging to the fence with such a big, cheesy grin on his face. Mom! I missed you! 

As soon as they let him out of the pool area, he clung to me in a bear hug. This boy who normally won't touch me when his friends are around lost all inhibitions and just clung to me.

Breathe that in for a minute...

And then, completely out of the blue, he said, Mom, I really miss Darian.

I do too, Buddy.

Yesterday, after we got home, I did simple things around the house. I decluttered an upstairs closet. I no longer have to worry about what will drop on my feet when I open that door. That's a good thing. And I watered my flowers, picking a random weed as I went along. I encouraged a couple of plants to keep on keepin' on as they are floundering a bit and I'm not sure why. Too much sun? Poor things.

Life is filled with so much good to cherish. Sometimes I am filled with frustration about things that annoy me: a messy kitchen or drivers who hug the left lane or people that say things to me that are hurtful, leaving me nursing my wounds for far too long. But the truth is, I have a choice. I can focus on those frustrating things that absolutely exist. Or, I can focus on the simple that exists as well.

Today? I'm choosing simple. Today? I'm going to just breathe.

Nature Calls

I work on the second floor of a building that is nestled in the midst of buildings on all sides. It is a gallery of concrete in downtown Asheville. The room that I work in is wall to wall cubicles--so many, in fact, that they don't have room for another. And so, the little place I call my own in this huge room is a desk that is sprawled across two walls and looks directly out...a window. It definitely has its own disadvantages: a large post is smack-dab behind the desk which makes things a bit awkward and limits freedom in rolling my chair around; and directly outside the window is a parking garage. But regardless, I have a glimpse of grass and flitting birds, people laughing, sunshine. It is a bit more than four walls of a cubicle.

Jace is gone to summer camp this week and so Roy and I have the week to ourselves. Of course, this is also my first week of "work" so that impedes a lot of true time together but...that's okay. We made plans for each evening that so far have been obliterated as when I get home, one of us doesn't feel like  doing whatever it was we'd planned for that particular day.

Yesterday, my sweet friend Joy told me about this Mexican restaurant that she and her family love. Unfortunately, I have this unnatural obsession for Mexican food. When Mom and Dad split up back in the day, Dad would always take me to Mexican food when I would stay with him on Wednesdays. And then when Roy and I started dating, there was this little Mexican restaurant by our school that we visited on a regular basis--and it's gone from there. No matter where we've lived, we've found a Mexican fiesta nearby. Here in Asheville our claim to fame is Papa's and Beer, but we're always up for something new. And so I called Roy around noon when I was on break to say: Hey! Joy told me about a Mexican restaurant that is her family's favorite. We should give it a try.

Of course, the underlying meaning was: Let's go this evening! But he didn't bite. He simply said, That sounds good! We'll try it on Friday evening (as that's our traditional eat-out day to celebrate the end of the work-week). I did one of those inward groans that I do when I hate being responsible...and resigned myself to making dinner at home. And that lasted until....well, until I got stuck in traffic one mile before the exit. Dead stop traffic. Eating the rear-end of the car in front of me. Heavy sighing.

And so, I pulled out my phone and sent a text (no worries--I never do this unless it's a dead-stop): Be ready when I get home.

When I finally pulled into the driveway, Drew and Ryan met me at the door as Drew is in a desperate search for a motorcycle and wants Roy's help. He found one a couple of days ago that Roy didn't approve of and he'd come over to bargain with Roy as to why it was a good deal after-all. It's beautiful actually--looks sharp and sounds tough as it's loud and obnoxious. But Roy spied too much rust covered up by fresh paint and a host of other problems and told Drew that it was going to cost him far too much money in the end to get it working. And so Roy has been searching the Internet, looking for a deal for Drew. And of course...he found one. And so,  as I walked in the door, Roy said, Here's the deal, Drew. You go look at this motorcycle with me this evening and if you don't like it, you can buy the other one you like and I'll help you fix it up.

And then Roy said...Ready?...looking at me. And off we went for Mexican food. It was, of course, delicious. Afterwards, we met Ryan at Drew at a nearby CVS where they parked their vehicle and joined us for a thirty mile drive to look at another motorcycle for Drew.

The drive was breathtaking. We wound up and down, in and out and around through mountainous terrain that left me staring in wonder. I want to live here someday, I said to Roy. He nodded in agreement.

We finally found the address. It took us awhile as it was up a steep incline--a narrow drive that wound up up up to a little plateau that housed a garage and house nestled there in the midst of the mountain.

Drew purchased the motorcycle.

And then? We headed home at sunset.

It always cracks me up when new moms, talking about their toddlers, say, "He/She just loves nature," as though it's so surprising. Their child is so unique! But the reality is, all little kids love nature. They love throwing rocks and jumping in puddles and playing outdoors. There is something about nature that brings serenity, quietude, God.

And living here in North Carolina? It's a little piece of God every day when I look out my living room window. When I am feeling stressed or experiencing too many thoughts all at once, I love to hang out on my swing and watch the cardinal who claims ownership of our bird feeder. Walking down Holcombe Cove Road--my attempt at exercise--keeps me grounded as I shake my head at looming trees and towering mountains just ahead.

The other people in my office where I work feel secretly sorry for me. I can't hide behind the walls of a cubicle but, rather, am at a desk for all to see as it is right by the door that one must use to exit the room. But in my opinion, it's the best place in the house.

It's a little piece of serenity any time I need a quick break: I can just look outside a window at a little patch of grass, a little splash of sunshine.