In Memory...

There's not a single selfie of her and I on my camera roll. We weren't those kind of friends - not the kind who "hang out" on a regular basis or go to lunch. We met through our husbands when I was still just dating mine - about 11 years ago now. She was one of the first people I told when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, since she'd gotten pregnant with her daughter just months before. She had jokingly told me I needed to have one, too. I hadn't really meant to follow suit, but it happened, and I had no idea then how intermeshed our lives would end up. 

I visited her in the hospital when both her youngest children were born, she was the first one to ever see my baby girl via ultrasound and I was who she called for reassurance when someone completely unqualified ridiculously told her they thought her middle son might have autism.
When I decided to quit my job and stay home to work on finishing my degree and open a home daycare, she signed up her youngest daughter post haste. So, at 10 months old I became sort of mom number 2 and formed about as close an attachment as you can with a child who isn't your very own. Jady was never threatened by that - not even when her only daughter started calling me "Momma" for a year or so. She'd just laugh and make jokes about it. And our daughters became more than friends; they're family.
This morning when I heard she was gone I cried for 3 hours and had to leave work. I felt kind of ridiculous for getting so upset. We weren't "best friends," after all. It took me the day to pinpoint my reasons for unraveling at the news. I looked back through my texts to see the last time we had talked. On Oct 2nd she had sent me pics of the girls on a train ride they'd invited my youngest to go on. On Oct. 13th she sent me a picture to show my mom. On Nov. 16th I sent her a picture I knew she'd think was hilarious because her sense of humor was like mine. On Nov. 30th I texted her about my daughter's birthday party this Sunday and she said they'd be there.
But, she won't be there.  And that's why my heart is broken. Because for 11 years now we may not have been "best friends," but she's been a fixture in my life. She's been a running text conversation of shared laughs, pictures of our kids, and even some serious dialogue.  We may not have done lunch but I'd go pick up her girl to come play and step in the house and commiserate about laundry and laugh with her. We would talk about when our girls start driving or when they graduate High School.  It breaks my heart that she won't be there for those things.  There are those people in your life who are just there kind of always in the background and you assume they'll always be there.
She was so genuine and so unique - you couldn't help but love Jady.  One thing she knew about, though, was loss. She lived her life - especially when it came to her kids - knowing full well she wasn't promised tomorrow. We had that conversation more than once. We could all take a lesson from her life; she loved the people around her well and it's evident she has left a lasting impression on everyone who knew her.  I don't know for sure how long it will take before the urge to text her something will pass. I don't even know how I could ever take her name out of my phone.  I do know that today I'm going to take a page out of her book and hug my family close and know I'm not promised tomorrow.
Goodbye, beautiful Jady. Thank you for over a decade of laughter and thank you for sharing your daughter with me. I promise to always help take care of her for you just like I always have.

Look for the Good - Be the Good

Watching the chaos on the television screen from the recent shooting in Dallas, I had to remind my children to "look for the good." Look for the helpers, look for the encouragers, look for the peacemakers. They far outnumber the small percentage of bad.

Lately my youngest has been focusing on the negative.  I.E. We were in our Dallas hotel room the first night and didn't get to go swim.  She was pouting. (Keep in mind she had already been to a water park that day!) I've been in discussion with her lately about how you have to make a choice to look for good in situations instead of focusing on the negative.  When she starts to go down that negative path I say, "But, what are the good things?"

I found out Tuesday afternoon while I was off work and at the lake that there was an important training the next day in Dallas at 9:00 am.  (We live almost 4 hours away - not including any traffic issues!) Could I possibly make it?  Well.  Anything is possible. I quickly made arrangements.

My 3 kids begged to come with and my immediate answer was NO. They'd have to stay in a hotel room alone in downtown Dallas during the day and I had a room with 1 King sized bed reserved.  No.  Way.  Then I started thinking (along with my Mommy guilt) maybe it could work.  After all, my oldest is 3 weeks from 16 and my training was literally next door to the hotel.  I arranged for them to hang out with a close family friend in the area the first day and it was settled.  They were SO excited!

Wednesday evening we walked around downtown some and had dinner.  We walked through a park on the way back with fountains and my youngest was promised that we'd come back the next night.  Thursday evening, July 7th, we had more time to kill.  We had dinner then stopped in a 7-11 to get slurpees and my kids noticed that a police officer in line in front of us bought a water for a young man hanging out in front of the store. On our way back to the room, we stopped at the park as promised and noticed some people starting to gather and a few reporters interviewing people.  I didn't think a lot of it. My youngest played in the fountains as planned and then we left for our room about 2 blocks away.  Time for the hotel pool!

Back at the hotel I looked up (good ol' social media) what was going on at Belo Garden Park, where we had just been.  It was the beginnings of a Black Lives Matter rally. At the hotel where my kids were playing in the ground floor outdoor pool they voiced concern over the police helicopters circling. One hovered right over our hotel for the majority of the time we were outside and I explained that it was just the police making sure everything stayed safe.  How do you explain racism to young children? Their sweet little hearts just don't really get it.

We went in just before 9:00. Just before all hell broke loose in Dallas.  Back in our room I flipped through channels and happened across a news station blasting the images of the hysteria happening two blocks away from us.  That explained all the sirens.  I quickly changed the channel to Full House reruns.  My 7 year old was distressed by the news and as Mom my role was the harbinger of calm and safety - no matter how I felt inside. 

I feel bad saying I was scared, tucked in my bed in my cushy 5th floor hotel room with the door triple locked.  I feel bad because meanwhile police officers on the street were up all night with their lives in danger.  Even the poor attendants at the front desk of the hotel had 100 times more reason than I did to be afraid.  At any rate, this girl from rural Oklahoma, sitting on the 5th floor listening to helicopter blades and sirens right outside my window, trying to be brave for my kids, was scared. 

I also felt bad for even having my kids there... at first.  I felt bad for exposing them to the violence and fear.  But, in the light of morning after the hotel was off of lock down, and we were safely headed back home, I decided maybe it was okay that my kids experienced this. Because as tragic as it is, you can find the good. 

The tragedy was a few people with evil in their hearts who decided to open fire and kill police officers.  But, as always, evil can't prevail where love is.  Because in committing this atrocity, they forced the police officers to jump to action and protect the very people who were protesting law enforcement.  They eradicated the issue of race in those moments of fear when bullets were flying and suddenly lives were just lives - not black or white or blue.  Officers were throwing civilians out of the way to put themselves in front of the line of fire - no skin color checks first.

That's what I want my kids to see.  This is the world we live in.  We live amongst evil and the impulse is to hide away - the way I didn't want my kids to come.  I wanted to keep them safe at home.  I want to keep them safe at home forever!  But, I can't.  I have to let them see they can be the good amongst the bad.  That you can't dwell on the bad - you have to choose to see the good.  You choose to see the police officer buying the less fortunate kid a water, the emergency personnel rushing to save the lives of those who persecute them, or the breeze the scary helicopter blades provide on a hot day.

Last night to calm my youngest down we prayed.  We thanked God for His perfect timing in when we headed back to our room, we prayed for peace for our country, we prayed for the emergency personnel and their families, and we prayed for safe travels home.  Today we debriefed together and talked things out.  We discussed the fact that we knew if Jesus were in the flesh today he'd be right downtown in the the midst of the fear and pain.  He'd be ministering through it all. 

We're not all brave enough to be downtown right now.  I'm not - especially not with my babies.  But, can we really, in good conscience, keep hiding in our cushy rooms with the doors locked while the sirens and choppers whir around us outside? We live in a scary world, but we have to keep looking for the good.  More importantly, we need to find ways to BE THE GOOD in our world.

Raised in a Barn

My whole body hurts. Our bank account is busted.  Also, my sinuses are crazy from barn dust,  my head hurts from 2 days of adrenaline spikes, there are wood chips all over our house and vehicles, our shoes smell like livestock poo, and I'm not sure if there's enough detergent in the world to wash the barn smell from our clothes. I'm sitting in my living room, listening to jean buttons clank in the dryer, perusing my phone pictures, and feeling emotional. And, I'm ready to do it all again next week.  You're thinking I'm crazy, right?

What angle to write from?  That's been my question since last night.  I've written about livestock showing and the way it prepares kids for life. I could go on and on about that.  And, last night at our county show was a great example.  I could write about these kids' knowledge of responsibility, their familiarity with disappointment, their determination, their work ethics... I could reiterate how I sort of hated this world (and, trust me, it is its own little world!) at first, but have grown to love it. But, as I've contemplated and looked at my pictures and social media posts, I've discovered just how much showing really means to me.

My daughter competed at our County livestock show for the 7th time last night.  She drove both her pigs for a long time and won a 5th and 3rd place.  She showed for premium sale twice. We knew the first time was a long shot, but after her 3rd place in a class that produced a breed champion, we had high hopes.  But, she didn't make it and I watched her keep her hog walking around the arena for so long.  It was tired and breaking down. It kept going to the corners of the ring to try to quit and every time my determined daughter fought to get it back in front of the judge.  She never quit.

Truth? I wanted her to quit.  I hate to admit that.  The mom in me was watching her, tears welling in my eyes, and I just thought,  "Baby, it's over.  Just stand in the corner and let that pig rest."  I could read her frustration and when she was FINALLY chosen as 4th alternate, and they got her pig over to the side where it collapsed from exhaustion, I saw the tears she was fighting from all the way in the stands.  I had to get to her! But, getting to her meant getting down stairs and going through a maze of pig panels. Her dad was down in the arena, but he had to fight the maze, too.

By the time we got to her there were already people surrounding her.  People who care about her and were watching her fight in that ring with almost the same concern I was. I recalled last year when I watched one of the senior girls have the same experience and how anguished I felt for her as I watched her.  I also thought about how excited I was for a boy who was having an awesome show his senior year this year,  after a not-so-great year last year. I was genuinely so happy for him, watching him win.  And, it occurs to me that we are so incredibly blessed to have this huge group of families we show with who have genuine concern for our kids.  Sure, in some respects we are competing against one another, but we are also all helping raise each other's kids.

We finally got my daughter's poor worn-out pig back to the pen, and we geared up for the showmanship competition. She went right back in the ring and showed her other pig with so much determination and she WON! After 7 long years, she finally got a showmanship buckle!  It was an amazing moment.  But, do you want to know the most amazing part?  The other parents who sincerely congratulated her, were genuinely happy for her, and told her how much she deserved it.  These are parents who's kids were in the ring, competing for the same award!

We are a little village of show moms and dads. We come together to raise money, coordinate to feed the kids on show day, help each other haul animals and equipment, share tips, commiserate on losses, share the joy of winning, and help keep up with the younger siblings.  We surround other people's children with help and encouragement when they need it.  We build them up, we hold them to the highest standard, and we don't let them quit.  How many times yesterday did I look up in the stands to see one or more of my kids sitting by another show parent?  How many times did I hear another parent say, "Great job!" To my child? 

We left the barn late last night. It was cold and anywhere I turned I saw weary faces. Weary faces with a smile and encouragement to offer.  The dads still there helped the kids load the last bit of equipment and the animals that needed to be hauled back to the school.  There was light teasing here and there, serious conversations about work still to be done, and I just sat back and took it all in.  I've come full circle.  I love this stock show life now. I love these people. There is no other village I'd rather have raising my children with me. Even if we ARE raising them in a barn!