Rock "ME" like a Hurricane? (I think not)

Maybe it’s because I had cable turned back on at my new house last night and was able to catch up on the significance of Irma.  Perhaps it was the mere mention of the Scorpion’s song “Rock you like a Hurricane” today that has left me thinking about the storms we face in life.  We all face them – it’s how we prepare, and stay grounded in what we know to be true of ourselves and our circumstances, that determines their impact on us.

For me, it seems life has brought about many super-sized storms from an early age.  From those, I’ve learned to be – and that I am indeed…a survivor. The fact that I enjoy the little things of life more now than ever is not shocking to me at all.  It’s been an interesting journey – and at this juncture,  I want to enjoy life to the fullest, knowing there have been too many times I didn’t choose that option.

In earlier days, I more easily allowed varying "winds" to blow me around because I was too caught up in what society thought I should be; therefore, forgetting who I was at the core.  Self-awareness comes with time and experience – through victories and defeat.  Truthfully, the failures have revealed far more than the successes.  With each outcome though – a deeper understanding and acceptance of the “me” I am today has ensued.

No longer will I acquiesce to the pressures of our culture.  There was a time when all I wanted to do was to fit in.  With a unique name that I despised early on – I immediately stood out.  Because of my longing to be one face in many, blending in to the backdrop … I sometimes became a bit of a chameleon. (I loathe that about the prior versions of me.)  Now, I simply refuse to let other influences have that much control.  Living that way can be a miserable existence – trust someone who tried that approach far longer than I care to admit.

While working with a Life Coach a few years ago, an incredibly thought-provoking question was posed:  She said, “Who were you before the World told you that you should be?”  Whoa.... "deep."  From an early age we have family, teachers, counselors, friends, politicians, classmates, magazines, and celebrities telling us “who” we should be, what kind of girl, mom, wife, employee, etc.   One would think that as the years pass, the “world” would relent and cease telling us who/what/how we should live our lives.  I’m here to tell you - Unfortunately, the world STILL tries to tell me who/what/how I should be today.  (okay “world” – back off… right?)

For instance, some of the silliness “the world” has said to me in recent years:

·         After a certain age, you should ….

o   Not wear your hair long – it should “always be above your shoulders”

o   Not hang out with friends who are younger than you (shouldn’t it be more about who you “connect” with on a level that is not just familial, not just biological – but whom you actually connect with meaningfully and enjoy?)  

o   Not wear a Wonder Woman Costume (it’s my favorite outfit… have you not seen the awesome red platform boots???)

o   Not dress this way or that… (I’ll dress the way I feel on any given day –some days it’s a business suit and heels – and others it’s  shorts, a sweatshirt and baseball cap… and of course, on occasion -  red platform boots)

o   Not stay out late (I’m a night owl)

o   Not go home too early (some of my best nights are quiet nights at home... "Go figure." )

·         When hanging with certain groups, it’s more like:

o   You shouldn’t  spend money on XYZ (but DO spend your hard-earned cash on this other XYZ) – I’m not trying to please the masses – I’ll spend where I find the most bang for my buck (regardless of popular opinion)

o   Not blog (Oh, so what I might say may be convicting?  Might be incriminating? Hmm… those are your issues – not mine.)

o   Don’t hang out with your gay friends?  (Um… I love my gay friends – just as much as my straight ones, some even more.   I also don’t have to worry that they are my friends because of “ulterior motives”)    

o   On the subject of male friendships– “if you hang out with guys all the time, people will think you’re sleeping with them.”  Really?  Could it not just be that they tend to be a bit less dramatic/more authentic than their female counterparts?  Whether longtime straight or gay male friends,  conversation is real – not cloaked in deception, not competitive… it’s just honest.  I know that I am not alone in this mindset as the closest female friends I have share this same perspective.  

o   Don’t hang out with your “churchy friends”  - well, I’ve learned firsthand that  “men of the cloth” and the "guys sitting in the pews" aren’t above the rest.  In fact, a pious attitude coupled with debaucherously driven actions is so highly disappointing. I’d rather hang out with someone who knows he’s a sinner, admits he’s a sinner – and who doesn’t have to work harder at image management than any other objective in life.  DISCLAIMER:  Several “priestly” men have truly been closer than a brother… in the most innocent, truly “Christ like”, of ways – this point is not a blanket statement about all guys in church this Sunday!

o   You can't say that on social media, in a Bible study, in a lunch discussion, etc.  Don't let people know your life is challenging ... they  might think it's about ME (more than 1 has said this ludicrous thing... and share the fact that they are far more concerned about their own images than any one person's well being - or their own integrity!)

o   You should be married/you should be dating/you should be single (Let me decide…and by the way, this topic is fodder for many a blogpost!)  Dating in your 40s… not for the faint of heart! 

Back to the “rock you like a hurricane” analogy…Did you know that today marks the anniversary of what has been recorded as one of the  deadliest days (and by some estimates, THE deadliest)  in our history?  War? Disease?  Famine?  No – ironically, it was a hurricane.  It struck Galveston, TX in 1900.  Obviously, back then, technology had not been developed to predict nor communicate the impending storm. Citizens were not ordered   to evacuate their homes and head for safety.  No one was checking in on FB.  Jim Cantori nor Al Roker were yet to be broadcasting  updates of the impending threat to everyone's peace and well-being.  Because entire communities had no advance notice, they were left with no time to adequately prepare and/or escape doom.  Their lives were met with – and several sadly ended with, the storm of a lifetime.

It’s not an earth-shattering epiphany.  In life,  all of us encounter storms.  Some, more than others.  Tonight, sitting on my balcony – quite content to be home after an early, post-work dinner…  reflections on the storms endured thus far and the storms yet to come, flood my thoughts.  Through the ones to date – I’ve learned who I am on a deeper level than if life had been "smooth sailing."  I am a survivor – a strong female, more content with the “me”  today than the “me” of yesterdays.

In preparation for strong winds of conflict  to make landfall, not only do I remember who I am, utilizing the knowledge gained from the  of the past, but setting aside extraneous annoyances - some  once disguised as a safe harbor but  now clearly revealed as otherwise.   Bracing for impact, placing my mind back on what truly matters, leaning on HE who can be trusted - I am prepared to make it through whatever storms may befall me.  There will be many – and with each, knowledge and understanding will increase as to better prepare myself and those I love most, for the next. 

Sometimes, when discouragement threatens to darken my personal forecast, I decide to stand taller and more firmly - reminding myself of the depths which have now usurped the shallow places within.  I am grounded again.   When the winds of life are posing a threat – I hunker down, pushing away the thoughts of inadequacy that once consumed a youthful mind and body. That younger physique would be nice to have back, but I don’t want to go back to that young person i was on the inside.  Today, when waves come crashing, i'm better equipped than before -  to not just survive – but to emerge better than before.

Life is a journey – one in which we 

should always be learning.  If the learning stops… so do we. We aren’t to be carbon copies of our neighbors. We are complex, multi-faceted individuals.  Every one of us possesses strengths.  Everyone also has areas in which we can and should improve.  It's not desirable to look or act like everyone else, or especially, like the airbrushed versions of celebs. If only I had understood this sooner ... but then again, this conviction would likely not be as strong today. 

A storm is coming. Onward! Go…endure that storm, get up, stand tall, move forward. (Red Platform Boots and lassos are bonus accessories for riding those crazy waves!)

Second song reference for this post:  add it to your playilist, turn it up and sing it loudly, the chorus is pretty spot on when your peace or wellbeing is threatened.  If others tear you down and try to tell you who you are…Know thyself and stay grounded in the you that you worked hard to become thus far!

.  Bitch

Meredith Brooks

I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change
Tried to tell you
But you look at me like maybe
I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet

Yesterday I cried
Must have been relieved to see
The softer side
I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything
All rolled into one

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way

So take me as I am
This may mean
You'll have to be a stronger man
Rest assured that
When I start to make you nervous
And I'm going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change
And today won't mean a thing

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way

Just when you think, you got me figured out
The season's already changing
I think it's cool, you do what you do
And don't try to save me

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way

I'm a bitch, I'm a tease
I'm a goddess on my knees
When you hurt, when you suffer
I'm your angel undercover
I've been numb, I'm revived
Can't say I'm not alive
You know I wouldn't want it any other way

Songwriters: Meredith Anne Brooks, Shelly M Peiken

© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group

For non-commercial use only.

Data from: LyricFind

Simple Pleasures… Plain & Simple, in Black & White (16 of 29)

Tuesday night = “Bowling Night” in my current stage of life.  We’re about halfway through the season, and it's an absolute blast.  One of the perks of bowling in this particular league is the social interaction.  Thankfully, not only are my team members extremely engaging, but everyone in this league, has a great time and they’re all enjoyable to be around (win or lose.)

Interesting thought tonight though … I’m the lowest scoring “scratch” bowler on the team.  The averages of my teammates are significantly higher.   We're outranking semi-pro bowlers…  you know, those people who actually bowl perfect 300 games.  Midway through the season, we are in first place, how ironic with "low-scoring Tawnda" on the team! 

The reality that hit me tonight, is that this pin shortfall is my greatest contribution to the team’s performance. (Once those handicaps kick in at the end of each game, boom… it almost looks like I know what I’m doing!)  

As is typical of me, I gave this ironic spin a considerable amount of thought tonight.  Much like the shortfall that benefits the team… in life I believe our individual shortfalls may be assets.  Failed relationships, finances gone awry, sickness, poor choices, legal problems, prodigal children, etc. are hard.  At the same time, these challenging life experiences are also phenomenal teachers. 

The drawbacks in life, once navigated – give us wisdom to make more informed decisions in and for the future.  The painful stuff of life also causes us to be more sensitive to the plight of others.  Pain can build character, and no question –  pain endured and overcome makes us far more interesting humans.  Setbacks also make us grateful.  

To close the loop here - Don't waste the lessons learned and the inspiration received in the midst of  “handicaps, shortcomings and gutter balls."  Enrich the life of those around you with non-judgmental humility, and encouragement. If not a relationship you have the freedom to “speak in to” then by all means,  still be empathetic. 

  

For me personally, the people in my life that have gone through the hard stuff …garner more respect.  Their opinions matter more to me - because they've been tested and shaped by the storms of life.   

Most definitely, I’m all about doing my best – and on Tuesday nights… my best falls short when it comes to raw bowling scores.  However, in bowling and in life - I’ll just keep aiming for the middle while continuing to find joy in the game.  

Slipped off my Sperry's & put on my very cool, germ-free
bowling shoes... (in a lovely shade of teal... trust me.)

Tonight’s bowling related “simple joys”

·       * My very own shoes (not a fan of rentals!)

·        *A great group of people each week!

       *Lots of laughs/Discounted beer (bonus) 

·        * Handicaps -  with them, we can still         “win” (bowling & in life!)

Simple Pleasures… Plain & Simple, in Black & White (15 of 29)

Since moving in to my house almost a year ago, my new address has been a respite. It literally feels like a cozy hug, every time I walk in... that's how home SHOULD feel.  Before moving in, I had planned on installing a security system – especially now that it’s widely known I live solo.

Intentions weren’t carried through until now.  Thankfully, the system is in place and it’s just one more layer of “peace.” Knowing that every door and window has a sensor is comforting, especially, when on occasion I hear an unfamiliar noise on another floor of the house. ADT is monitoring 24/7 for smoke, heat, and intruders... so if a fire ever breaks out while I’m away, or sleeping soundly, they'll send help my way.  Being once again a sound sleeper – this is key! 

ADT  put a note on my account that there are two beloved felines living here… so in the event of an emergency, first responders will be alerted.  (With several friends on the local fire department … they’d likely know to get them to safety in my absence...but again, it's another layer of coverage.)

Obviously, I pray there’s never an issue, but now I'm at least better prepared. It may not seem a big deal to some, but I’m extremely grateful for this added layer of protection. 

It's time for some treasured deep sleep... goodnight.

Simple Pleasures… Plain & Simple, Looking Back.. in Black & White and Red... (14 of 29)

Valentine’s Day annoys the crap out of me.  It must have been a brilliant marketing strategy by someone in the Greeting card/Gift industry… capitalizing on superficial romantic love, and encouraging insincerity among couples.  In fact, this must have been such a lucrative business move that “Administrative Professionals Day”, “Boss’s Day”, “Pastor Appreciation MONTH” eventually followed. Valentine’s is the absolute worst though.  Hear me out; this is not at all because I find myself single.  “Hallmark Holidays” were equally loathed when I was married …for the most part.

When the children were little, it was great fun helping them decorate “shoeboxes" for school parties and aiding in selecting just the right Disney/Power Ranger/ Barbie/ /Pokemon, etc.  sentiment from the assorted packs for each of their classmates.  At the time, it didn’t seem like a bad precedence was being established which would lead to inflated romantic expectations later. (still doesn’t.)  Those were fun years! 

my babies... miss this age so much sometimes.

Once my cherubs made it to the tween years, whether my then-husband was traveling or not, I began a new tradition with them. On Valentines Evening, we would have a very formal dinner, usually with Shrimp Scampi as the main course. (Chocolate covered strawberries were a "must"... and still often are!) There were many reasons for celebrating as a family.   It was a special time gathered as a family, we celebrated familial love, and as a bonus, it was another opportunity to help my little ones become accustomed to dining on fine china and employing proper etiquette! They actually seemed to enjoy these times as well.

As the years progressed, and my little ones approached dating  –   intentional (still enjoyable) discussions were held around the table about their future spouses.  We talked seriously about relationships and expectations.  We discussed Gary Chapman’s “The Five Love Languages.”  It was fun to talk about each of their own "wiring" and it was fun to see if they could pick up on others'. So, those years, Valentines Day was special…on yet a different level.

Fast forward a bit, my children became adults… no longer was there a family Valentine’s Dinner. I had an increasing soft spot for widows though, maybe because both of my grandmothers had been widowed, perhaps because I “adopted” another grandma at church who was a widow herself. 

Suzanne...aka "Gram" - my adopted grandma.

My heart’s prompting turned to action.  Several years ago, I obtained “approval” and a budget for a Valentine's Banquet in Honor of All Widows.  At the time, I rallied several staff friends to serve food, refill beverages, play background music, take formal portraits, usher, host, set the tables with fine china, etc.  It was a huge team effort and I’m so grateful to have been part of that team for so long. 

Several of the servers/ushers that made the Banquets special!

On the first of several Banquet days, I watched closely as every detail unfolded. Well-dressed ladies were escorted to their tables by one of many gentlemen, wearing white button downs and red bow ties.  The sounds of classical piano and viola softly welcomed them as they found the place that had been lovingly and beautifully set just for them.  Gifts for each of the ladies were put in their hands as they left.  In the gift bags were several carefully chosen items, including a very quickly framed formal photo – of them, to take home.  The photographer took photos upon their arrival and while lunch was being served, "runners" were EXPEDIENTLY getting photos developed and in to the appropriate frames.  There was a lot of preparation going in to these events, but so, so worth it!

Side note:  I’ve learned that this demographic (keep in mind - all widows are not elderly) is too often overlooked by the camera lens. Having framed professional photos to take home seemed a good idea, but the impact was priceless... 

The responses from that inaugural Valentine's event literally blew me away.  Each thank you note was a treasure.  One sweet lady called after receiving the invitation. She was sobbing – in the 20+ years that she had been without her husband, not one person had acknowledged her on Valentines in any way.  The actual banquet hadn't occurred yet - so just to have been invited 

touched her heart.  

"Gram" & Sally... 2 faces I miss dearly! 

So, it’s true – I’m not a fan of “manufactured” or forced romantic gestures on this Hallmark Holiday, however, the phone call(s), grateful words, hugs and smiles on the faces of these women – made Valentine’s Day truly meaningful that first year and each that followed.  

Having left my position several months ago, I sit here wondering what the Banquet was like this year.  On one hand, my heart is a little heavy because I wasn’t part of something that felt like “my baby.”  On the other hand, knowing years later, the widows from FBC are still being honored and loved on by the team I left behind, fills my heart.

A pastor/friend encouraged me recently.  He pointed out that a big part of my legacy at the place I invested so much of my adult life -  is the annual Valentine's Banquet.  I hadn’t thought about it, but suppose it’s true.  The thought pleases me.   

My Valentine’s Date this year is quiet, introspective, writes a lot while sitting at a table – and is not at all social today.  My date has learned to not just be comfortable dining alone, but finds it rather enjoyable at times.  My “date” is simply grateful for the memories of Valentine’s Days past…. those very special meaningful times... not the "Hallmark stuff."

These reflections are so much more meaningful than a card, candy, or jewelry prompted by a calendar.  (Any other day of the year - BRING IT ON.) For now, it's time to dig into some Extra hot Buffalo tenders ... how "romantic" right?   Actually, it's pretty perfect.

1/2 & 1/2 tea & copious amounts of water to wash down
the perfectly un-dainty, non-formal, solitary dinner:
Buffalo  Tenders,  celery, & lots of blue cheese,!
PERFECTION.

me, myself, and my date.

Simple Pleasures… Plain & Simple, slightly a mess - and in Black & White (13 of 29)

Being on “sabbatical” makes every night a Friday night… and every morning a Saturday.  Sometimes I’ve got to look at my phone to see what day it actually is, because the days are running together so very easily, and the time I’ve taken off from the “working world” is going by at lightning speed!  However, today is actually a Saturday… and I get to spend most of it with a fabulous girlfriend.  

Needing a quick caffeine boost before meeting Michelle, I’m waiting for the Keurig to warm up and I'm staring at perhaps the messiest cabinet in my entire house.  Yet, my OCD doesn’t kick in… Here’s why.

Multiple cats, butterflies, Wonder Woman themed,
Inspirational, & Scrabble mugs, along with Starbucks
 souvenirs from around the world greet me daily.
Some times  it really is the "Little Things." 

Each of the casual mugs in this frequented cupboard means something special to me.  90% were gifts from my children which automatically make them cherished.  What makes each mug especially significant is that I’m "known" by my 3 cherubs and by the friends who've contributed to this collection.  (Several missing are in the dishwasher...so this conglomeration would be even more disturbing to the analytical eye if they were clean...you're welcome.) 

 If you know me well at all, you know there is special significance to butterflies, cats, and yes – for many years “Wonder Woman.” So, this is indeed a simple pleasure for which I’m grateful… a treasure trove of mugs symbolizing people, places, events and meaningful things that are treasured in my heart now and always.  This cupboard may be slightly a mess… but that’s okay… its representative of me.  (I’m definitely slightly a mess…. on my best of days!)

Still, this little mess before me makes me smile.  It's like a little daily hug.  Boom.

(Coffee’s done… time to come alive…there’s a full, fun day ahead.)

Simple Pleasures… Plain & Simple, Male & Female, & in Black & White (12 of 29)

There is a myth that guys and girls cannot be friends - in some cases, that may be true.  However, I have ALWAYS had a core group of guy friends.  Typically, they are easier going and seem to possess a bit more emotional stability than "many" females. My male compadres tend to be as averse to drama as I…which is a HUGE BONUS.  Fortunately, there are a handful of great guys I can honestly say I love as a brother. Because of their presence in my life, a steady sweet protective spirit, and an air of authenticity (and fun) enriches my life. 

One “brother” has been around over 2 ½ decades…and is one of my longest lasting, most meaningful friendships. Over the last 2 ½ decades, he has changed tires; rescued me when my mustang was stuck on ice; moved me and my daughter from one apartment to another, and so forth. More than anything, he’s been there for me on days I couldn’t stop crying…and yes, he’s been there on days I’ve struggled with dating dilemmas - decades ago, and now again as I find myself navigating single life.    

The oldest digital pic I could find...There are many "prints"
in boxes that I really need to scan...some priceless ones! 

Between us, we’ve weathered 3 marriages, several wounds, loss, disappointments, and lots of “life stuff” – the good and the bad.   D is a friend that I can talk about absolutely ANYTHING with …and believe me, we do cover it all. Having experienced several unique parallel struggles, we are clothed in similar scars – both emotional and physical. (We are quite literally “titanium friends” …having matching scars on our right arms!)

We can and do - debate any topic.  There is agreement on most big issues, but not on all. He does challenge my thinking at times... which is a good thing.  A friendship of this caliber allows freedom to be transparent without judgment.  

Nowadays, a huge plus is his ability to speak openly as I navigate single life… and ugh – slightly dip the proverbial toe in to the  “dating world” (the very thing I said I’d never do again...and I’m not completely convinced it’s for me.) D’s insights into the complex male psyche are priceless and he seems to know a bit about the female psyche as well… it’s scary, at times.

Because of our history – up until now, he has known – (or in one case, he met) every guy I’ve ever dated.  I can honestly not say that of any other friend or family member. Years ago, we lived in the same apartment complex and ran in the same circles.  Those were fun times... and it probably never dawned on me that this guy would still be in my life 25 years later.  Thankfully, he is. (funny side note: the first time I met my ex was actually because of D.... I've jokingly given him a hard time about it… all in fun, of course.  It’s really just another thread woven in the tapestry of a long friendship.)

Lunches and dinner "updates" are usually full of  laughter, and on occasion, tears. (Often, my tears end and laughter ensues because he has the ability to lighten the mood.) Regardless of the conversation, I always leave with a smile on my face, a giant bear hug, and increasing gratitude for this guy.  He tells it like it is… without being offensive or condemning.  I need that in my life.  We all do!

 

So, for today’s entry in the Gratitude Journal: 

I’m beyond grateful for this enduring friendship, and for the fact that he texted to see if I was available for lunch.  Lunch turned in to a movie and of course, throughout the few hours we hung out, there was much meaningful dialogue with my forever friend. What a gift he is to me.

Yes, guys and girls can be friends…and treasured friends at that.

PS – “D” doesn’t like having anyone make a big deal about him, so if you happen to read this …and you actually know him, then “shhhhhh” don’t say a word!

Simple Pleasures: Plain & Simple (in black & white, & imperfect flesh tones) 11 of 29

John Mayer sings “Your body is a Wonderland.”  It’s a great song…but if I knew nothing more than the title and catchy chorus…I could say it applies to my body.”  (Bummer, clearly not the case!)

Your body is a wonderland
Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands)
Your body is a wonderland

The reality is, my body could cause an onlooker to “wonder.”  I’m a 5’9, 140 lb living, and breathing bulletin board covered in “mementos" from the journey I've been traveling since birth..”

From the very top of my head, to the very tip of my right toe, assorted scars illustrate various chapters of my ongoing biography.  A near fatal accident, 4 early stage cancers, blatant stupidity, and other life experiences have resulted in quite a collection of imperfections on an already imperfect body.  Yep, it's a wonder... 

There was a time when I did everything possible to cover visible scars… especially, the more pronounced ones.  There were summers that sleeveless tops were not an option because I didn’t want anyone to see the horrific scarring on my upper right arm.  When I had thyroid surgery a few years ago, I bought several scarves and turtlenecks in anticipation of the “mutilation” I’d have to conceal.  Perhaps that was a season of vanity…. (Just think, TP… you didn’t even know me then!)  Now I proudly wear sleeveless tops and love that I have a dear friend with an identical scar in the precise same location.  (We're titanium friends... literally!)

(note the corresponding description/link to each # below)

Probably more significant than some of my physical scars are the ones that no one sees.  There are a multitude of emotional scars below the surface.  In earlier adult years I saw myself as strong, independent and yes – as a survivor.  Somewhere later though, “I” got lost and those positive self-assessments were replaced with self-deprecating thoughts and doubts.  Thankfully, with time and proper guidance – we grow into a better version of our younger selves. (I think I’m grasping the familiar quote “youth is wasted on the young.”)  Priorities change, perspectives mature and we become more comfortable in our own flawed skin and aging bodies.  This is not a stretch at all – the scars on my body and below my skin,  are souvenirs from challenges and injuries overcome… and I’m profoundly grateful for what each represents. 

3 years ago, in tears…I said to my therapist, “I’m an enabler… I’ve enabled too many people in my life...and they’ve all hurt me in some way.”   His attitude changed, and his voice got more stern than “comforting.” Looking directly at me, he said… “STOP!  YOU ARE A SURVIVOR!  I know what you’ve been through.  You’ve always done what was necessary for survival.  You’re still here….yes, you need to recover, yes - you need time to heal, but YOU ARE STILL HERE.”

Those words were not a healing salve; they were electrifying shocks from an AED that revived a dying heart and crushed spirit. Dr. P’s words, and many sessions of working through a bunch of CRAP were all crucial to moving forward, and healing. 

I’ve survived a lot.  (Seriously, my life has a strange “Lifetime Movie” vibe.) Scars are another example of redemption. Nothing that we journey through – regardless of how, or why… is wasted, unless we waste it. I’m thankful for every blemish.  Each prompts recollection of an unrequested, painful, yet ultimately, cherished experience.  Each tells a bit of the story of how “I” became the “Me” that exists today.  

Lastly, each imperfection serves as a reminder of a responsibility to others - drawn from the well of experience that has been only mine to partake.  Lessons learned - must be shared.  Encouragement received – must be passed on to others.  (Encouragement coming from someone who has navigated similar trials is a great comfort to a suffering friend…I’ve been on both ends of the equation.)

Don’t waste scars...redeem them.

Here's an overview of my "Wonderland Memo Board."  

Physical Souvenir	Origin	Read more of the story here:
1.    Boomerang shaped Scar on top of      head. Barely visible nowadays.	Hit by a car at the age of 15 – the giant gash on my head was from a road sign that my head clipped as I was catapulted through the air…	http://tawnda.blogspot.com/2010/06/broken-bones-scars-and-ugly-blue-pintos.html more on the accident that almost ended my life…but ultimately brought many physical changes
2.    On my neck – barely visible	Total Thyroidectomy (pre-cancerous tumor)	http://tawnda.blogspot.com/search?q=ode+to+thyroidina (wow – I forgot how corny that was… must’ve been the Percocet.)
3.    Right Humerus – Metal Plate	Same pedestrian accident as #1	http://tawnda.blogspot.com/search?q=blood Another perspective on the same accident…years later
4.     Early detected breast cancer	3 different occurrences over 5 years	------------
5.     Early detected breast cancer	No chemo/radiation necessary	------------
6.     Early detected breast cancer	3 lumpectomies w/extensive margins removed due to atypical hyperplasia	------------
7.     Emergency C-Section	My favorite scar of all…  -> ->  ->  ->  ->	http://tawnda.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-difference-nineteen-years-make.html
8.     Left Wrist – Quarter size/shaped	Also from the pedestrian accident	This scar used to be far more evident and I literally wore a watch for the sole purpose of covering it… now it only shows up vividly if I’m in the sun…
9.     Right pelvic bone///bone graft	Same pedestrian accident as #1	------------
10.     Right Big Toe/Pins (bunion!)	Delayed injury from years of ballet	Metal parts in right arm & right foot/Bionic Woman!
11.     Left arch – (this is the souvenir of youth & stupidity)	Stepped on broken glass on dance floor	Too much liquid courage as a barely 18  year old college student at O’Malley’s in Athens with friends… (It was bleeding so much I thought someone spilled a red slushy on my sandals… not fun.)

Simple Pleasures… Plain & Simple, in grey... & Red, White & Blue (9 of 29)

  It's one of those funny Georgia weather days again.  Knowing how to dress the months of November through March each year is a little like Roulette. Granted, I reach for the shorts and flipflops any time it even looks remotely warm and sunny BUT...

TODAY is most definitely a thick sweater and rain boots kind of day... it's SNOWING!  

The little girl awakens within me and excitedly watches for the magical white powder as it drifts from grey skies.

The view from my dining room...  one  of my
favorite places to observe the outdoors - year round.  

Seeing Old Glory waving in the wind, little girl in me quickly transitions back to the patriotic grown woman - proud to be an American and very proud to be the Mom of a United States Marine.

My thoughts instantly go to a much snowier place, to Washington DC 

where my baby boy currently lives and serves this great country.

Funny how some rabbit trails are reminders of a multitude of blessings... 

Grateful smiles abound on this beautifully grey-skied February day...

This is one of my favorite pictures from Tyler's time at 8th & I in Washington, DC.
He is in the very front , with the blood stripe on his pants and carrying a sword.  That's my baby boy.
The absolute best son anyone could ask for....