Trimming the Tree

The Christmas tree is down (from the attic) and up (in the den). Although I love the look and smell of a fresh tree, our son's allergist told us in no uncertain terms that we were practically abusing him by having a fresh cut Christmas tree.

That was probably eight years ago. So even though my tree isn't "real," it's still pretty, at least to me. And you can't beat the convenience. It's pre-lit, and in three sections. We just put it together, part A to part B to part C, shake it out a little and plug it up. Fresh trees are nice, but they are way more work.

We have a huge fireplace that takes up almost all of our back wall in our den. One more reason not to have a fresh tree. As the wife of a man who has survived not one but two house fires, I can promise that we are more than vigilant about things that can burn.

We do not leave our tree on all night, when we are away, or even when we are out of the room for an extended period of time. Not only do we turn it off, we unplug it. I unplug it even if I'm just leaving long enough to take a shower. My husband is sincere about not wanting to experience a third fire.

So the stockings are hung by the (gas log burning) fire place with (great) care, but there's no mistletoe for the same reason there's no other living plants. If it is green and it is living, my son and my husband are allergic to it. There's no candles burning (see above) and no live garland like all magazines suggest this time of year.

I'm pretty sure my home won't be featured in any magazine spread anytime soon. That's just fine with me. It's pretty to me, and it's pretty to my husband and my son. Our home is decorated with things that have meaning to us and things that bring back memories important only to us.

Most of the time, I don't like those spreads in all of those magazines my Mom gets anyway. They are always too cluttered to me. There is stuff everywhere. Too much clutter, actually, any clutter, bothers me. I don't have things sitting out everywhere all over every surface in my home. It would drive me batty. It is, apparently, the style, but it is definitely not my style.

So I don't think Better Homes & Gardens or Life&Style or Southern Living will come calling to my home anytime soon. But that's okay with me. Our home suits us, quite well, thanks. And it just really doesn't matter to me if it is the latest thing or not. It's Our Thing. And that's all that matters.

Tis The Season: Of Thanks And Gifts Already Given

The (deep-fried) turkey has been eaten; the last of Grandpa's famous (and fabulous) pecan pie is gone. The day set aside to stop and give Thanks is over. With it comes the rush of the holiday season, the gearing up for other days we will spend with family and friends.

This time of year always inspires me to look back, and for me personally, this has been an incredibly hard year. My body decided to rebel, and let me know it in all kinds of ways. Pain, pain, and more pain has been my constant companion this year, following me like a shadow that I just couldn't escape from.

We learned some hard news from my doctor at the Mayo Clinic this year. It rocked my world, and in a way I mourned for a little while. But you have to live while you can, and eventually I stopped mourning for what I had lost, for what my future would hold, and started embracing the here and now. I'm going to make the best of what I've been given. That has always been my creed, I just lost sight of it for a little while this year.

That best includes pain, and there's just no way around that. I am going to hurt, every hour of every day. Some days and some hours are worse than others, but I am going to hurt. So, I am going to deal with it, every hour of every day. With a smile, hopefully, and a good nature.

It has been hard on my family this year, watching my journey through this difficult time. Though Thanksgiving is over, I am so thankful for my family. I simply could not cope without their strength and support. It is harder in many ways on them, because their love for me is great.

They have spent this year making that long, long trek to Mayo; driving Logan to school when I was too sick to drive; cooking and cleaning and doing my laundry when I could not, letting me stay with them when I was too ill to stay at my own home, supporting me and uplifting me and encouraging me.

It would be very easy for my family to get tired of this foolishness, as I often do. For them to have something better to do, to be too busy with their own lives to help me cope with mine. Yet they never complain, they never make me feel guilty, they never make me feel like I am intruding. It is an amazing gift, and one I am grateful for.

So even though Thanksgiving is over and Christmas is not yet here, I have plenty to be thankful, plenty of gifts to be grateful for.

My husband Gary, who is my rock. My stronghold, my shoulder, the one who loves me above all others, no matter what. My Mom and Dad, who do so much that people never know about and do it quietly, because it is who they are. Gary and I simply could not get through this nightmare without them. They are Logan's other parents. It began out of necessity, but I have come to realize it may very well be one of the best things that could have ever happened to my child.

My sister, Teresa. She calls me every single day. She sends me cards. She makes me laugh and lifts me up and makes me feel like the strongest and the bravest and smartest person in the world. Of course, I'm not. But my sister believes in me, so of course, I am.

Gary's mom and dad, who will do anything we ask of them without question or complaint, immediately. Gary's sisters, who are always there when I call, to vent my frustrations and to listen.

My family. The thing I am most thankful for. And the very best gift of all.

Giving Thanks

I have so much to be thankful for. I often loose sight of it in the day to day routine. I'm glad there are times that we must slow down, look around, and take account of our blessings. Mine are many.

I have a husband and son I adore, and am blessed enough to be able to say, with absolute sincerity and certainty, that they adore me back. What an incredible gift. I've been in relationships where I wasn't even liked, much less adored. I much prefer it this way.

My parents and my husband's parents love us and love each other. There are no harsh words or feelings or competition between us. We love being together, and my parents like to get spend time with his parents, just because they can, because they like them so much. Yes, I know how lucky I am.

My sister loves me with a fierce and fiery love. I am her baby sister. Don't mess with me. She is indescribable, but if I had to describe her, the words would be awesome. And lovely. And amazing. More importantly, mine. How thankful I am to have a sister like her.

I have two sister-in-laws that inherited me through no fault of their own, yet they put up with me anyway. They love me anyway. They are there through the good and the bad times anyway.

I have friends, such wonderful friends, that call and come by and write and tell me again and again that they are here for me. They offer to do whatever I need, and are there for me when I take them up on that offer. They are not related in any way to me, yet they love me. How blessed I am.

I look around during this time set aside to give thanks, and I see what all I have. In the background is an afternoon talkshow, with a very unhappy family on it. The mother-in-law doesn't like the new wife. The grandchild is being used as a pawn. The husband has washed his hands of the discord, but not before saying terribly hurtful things to his mother. Other family members have taken sides, and an all out war has been declared. The so called expert on television is trying to sort it all out.

As war is being waged in the background, nothing but love is surrounding me in the foreground. But I see; how I see, how awful it could be. How easily it could all be so awful.
And I look around. And I say a prayer of Thanks to the One who has given me so very much. I certainly didn't earn it, and I certainly don't deserve it. But how very thankful I am for it.

Santa Needs Help

Time is running out, and Santa needs your help. Or, in this case, the group that is wanting to help where Santa might not be able to show up this year because some families can’t afford Santa.

Ignite 07, teamed up with the Junior Auxiliary and Toys for Tots; are committed to making this Christmas better for 1300 needy families in our community this year. But to do that, we need your help. We have the food to give, thanks to you. And, Thank You.

What we need now, desperately, are toys for the children. We have a few. A very few. And while we know that food is essential and toys are not, try telling that to a child on Christmas morning. Tell that to a child the first day of school after Christmas break, when he sees and hears about what all of his classmates got.

Imagine his feelings when a classmate asked what he got, and he has to say "nothing" because Santa doesn’t know where he lives. There’s not enough money for Santa to come to his house, so he had to do without at Christmas while other children got their hopes and dreams and wishes fulfilled.

We want to help Santa visit as many homes as possible that might not otherwise be able to buy their children toys. If you have the ability to buy an extra toy or two, please help us out. We are so grateful for those who have already given, but this is a big project, so we need big participation.

We need a minimum of 2500 toys. Yes, we know that’s a lot. But there’s a lot of good people in our community, so we know that we can ask for and receive the help we need.
Toys can be dropped off at the old Riggs building on Lockard Street between 1 and 3 p.m. on December 1 and December 8.

They can also be dropped off during regular business hours at Pathway Church of God or Ruddle Road Church of God. To schedule a pick up, or for more information, you can call Doug Echols at 740-1094; Dwayne Culp at 780-4517 or James Decanter at 740-8156.

I have a child, and I love everything about Christmas. I love fixing up my home, making my son’s favorite holiday snacks and buying the food he likes best that only is available this time of year, like eggnog. I love wrapping his presents and putting them under the tree, and seeing his anticipation about what is under that tree. I love watching him open his gifts and enjoy them, and I love the thrill I get when he throws his arms around my neck and hugs me tight, thanking me for his gifts.

There is another mother in our community that loves her child just as much as I love mine. But she can’t run to the store and pick up her child’s favorite holiday food. She can’t wrap up presents and enjoy the anticipation of watching her child open that gift. She won’t get a hug and a thank you, because her child won’t have a gift to open on Christmas. That is, unless we at Ignite can Unite as a community to do something to help.

We want to make this Christmas the best Christmas our whole community has ever had. We believe we can do it. It’s a big dream, but we have faith. Will you help us? We can do this, with your help.

Unsung Heroes

I hadn't planned on a day like this. I had several appointments today, so business was on my mind. Matters of life and death were not on my mind. All of that changed in an instant. My husband and I were coming home from West Memphis, where we taking care of business. At about the 31 mile marker on I-55 North, Gary looked in the rear view mirror and watched a car swerve off the road and into the ditch. It looked like the car had flipped over.

No one else seemed to have seen the accident. They weren't stopping. I called 911 while Gary pulled over and ran down the embankment. One lady had been thrown out the back windshield of the car. She was on the ground, bleeding and moaning. Two other people were still in the car, bloody and dazed. The airbags had deployed, and the front windshield was shattered. The back windshield was completely gone. Parts of the car and debris from inside the car was scattered everywhere.

An 18-wheeler stopped on the shoulder. The truck driver jumped out and ran down the embankment to help Gary, while I stayed on the phone relaying information to the dispatcher. Another car stopped, this time, blessedly, an off-duty paramedic and his wife jumped out and started helping.

When help got there, it got there in spades. We had Mississippi County Sheriff's deputies, state troopers, tow trucks, fire departments with the jaws of life, the helicopter crew, and more firefighters than I could count.

The first officer on scene was a Sheriff's deputy. As he was slowing down to help us, an 18 wheeler in the south bound lane of I-55 rear-ended another vehicle, causing that vehicle to slide off the road and into the ditch on the other side. Now we had two wrecks to deal with. Some of the people that had initially stopped for the first accident ran across the interstate to check on the driver involved in the second accident. His vehicle was totaled, and he had to be cut out of his car. He was a first responder, who was on his way to help out with the first accident.

So many people were there and stopped to help. There were probably six people that stopped and were helping in some way before the professionals ever got there. Once the professionals got there, they did their job with compassion. Those non-professionals stayed on the scene, to fetch or carry or run get this. Some of them directed traffic or carried equipment or helped lift the back boards.

My point is this. People were in need. Strangers that no one knew. But that didn't matter. People stopped and helped, even though those people didn't really know what to do. They just did what they could until the real help could get there. And once the real help got there, they did their job in an excellent manner.

I don't know the names of all the people that stopped. I don't know the names of all the deputies, the troopers, the paramedics, the firemen. But if I did, I would tell them Thank You. I'm glad people like you live and work near me. You know, Around Here. It's a good place to be.

Limping A Mile in Someone Else's Shoes

The old saying goes something like this: Don’t judge someone else until you have walked a mile in his shoes. It’s good advice. You never know what someone is dealing with unless you are in the same position they are. It’s easy to be judgmental from a distance.

I have made a discovery these past few weeks. Although I consider myself to be a compassionate person, I haven’t been nearly sympathetic enough to people who have back and leg pain. During my recent trip to the Mayo Clinic, doctors hit a nerve in my lower back during a procedure to inject dye into my spinal column.

That nerve runs down my left leg. My lower back and left leg have been in immense pain, and my leg has been almost useless at times. Who knew one nerve could be so important? Apparently the nerve knew it, and is committed to making me know it.

I have had headaches, severe ones, for more than five years. I know pain. But this is a different pain. Your head just kind of goes along with the rest of your body. It’s not in charge of moving anything. Your back and legs are a good bit bigger than your head, which means the pain can spread out over a wider area. That’s not a good thing.

I’ve discovered I move a lot more than I knew I did. Every little movement is painful, and, well, you just have to move sometimes. Getting in bed is a chore. Getting out of bed is a chore. So is standing and sitting and walking. Getting in and out of the shower. Leaning down to kiss your child goodnight. Stretching up to reach something. Bending down to pick up something. Just going about your day requires movement, and each movement is painful.

It’s been an eye opening experience for me. I’m getting better, thankfully. But I know that there are many people that don’t have the hope of getting better. Their injuries are permanent, and they deal with this kind of pain daily.

It is so frustrating to not be able to do even the most simple things without pain. It wears on you, both physically and emotionally. I haven’t been able to drive for the last few weeks. The loss of that independence is something I feel deeply. I don’t like being a burden on others, being dependent for every little thing.

But I have the hope of knowing this is temporary. I will drive again. There are many people that won’t ever be able to drive themselves. They’ve lost their independence, but don’t have the hope of getting it back.

This experience has been sobering to me. My family and I have dealt with a lot in the past few months, and we have a lot more to deal with in the coming months. We didn’t need this added roadblock, more frustration, more pain, more to deal with.

But it has made me stop and consider the many people that live their lives with this kind of pain, with no hope of getting better. I’ve been pretty caught up in my own troubles lately, wondering what the future holds and trying to plan ahead for what is to come. I’ve not had a lot of time to think of others.

Then this nerve injury happened, and on top of everything else we were dealing with, there was one more thing. I thought I was overwhelmed already. I thought I was at the end of my ability to cope already. But my thinking has changed, and I realize how selfish I have been.

Though I am almost constantly in pain, I can move through my day. My head just sort of comes along with me as part of the package, whether it’s hurting or not. I have found a new empathy for folks that have to endure the agony of back or leg pain. It affects every part of their day, and it affects them every single time they move.

I know people who have problems with their back, and I know now that I’ve not been nearly sympathetic enough to the challenges they face. That’s going to change, starting now. I’ve limped a couple of miles in their shoes, and now I understand.