MY DARLING BOYS

MY DARLING BOYS

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Daddy's Girl

Last night, I was really sick and had weird dreams to go along with my virus. I can explain some of it because my mind was pulling out things from the week and mixing them all together. Ellen just spent 4 days at University of Alabama, so in my dream, I was a student there. My dad had died in a car wreck a couple of years earlier (dream) because I had just been to a funeral of someone who died in a car wreck and my father really is gone (and has been for 20 years). In my dream, my mom told me he didn't really die and she had a surprise for me. I looked, and there stood Dad. He was dressed just like he used to be when he was leaving to go teach at the university... camel-colored sports coat, shirt and tie, dark pants, dress shoes. He looked great and I ran to hug him. My heart was so full and I was thrilled he was back. I could literally feel him holding me and how much he loved me.

Then I woke up. And Dad really was gone. And I laid in bed and felt tears rolling down my cheeks... just like they are now. And I wondered how my heart could be so full of joy and sorrow over Daddy after 20 years. I thought about what a loving father he had been and how I always believed I was his favorite. One day I told my sister that I felt like I was Daddy's girl and she said, "Me too." That's an amazing parenting skill - making each child believe she is the favorite.

Then I thought about Pastor Mark's sermon on Sunday - about getting new bodies in heaven and recognizing people and spending time with people we love. Then I realized that what I feel is only a taste of what I will feel in the next life. I will feel deeper joy and no sorrow. I will feel complete love and give complete love. I will enjoy the love of the Lord in His kingdom and never have to long for anything again. Like seeing my Daddy.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Torture Chamber for A.D.D.

I must have ADD. I can't sit still in a movie without getting bored, so I don't go. I hate to waste time, so I multi-task. I even feel guilty if I sit still doing nothing. I thrive on being productive.

That being said, you can imagine what jury duty does for me. Today, I sat. And sat. And sat. I was crammed into a room with so many people that we could hardly move (special thanks to the court system for propagating the flu and cold viruses in Cobb County, by the way). The rows of chairs were placed so close to each other that when someone wanted out, the whole row had to empty into the aisle. Kind of like being on an airplane - but without the view. Or the cushioned seats. Or the movie.

I'm a networker - a socializer. The woman to my left sat stoically, listening to her ipod and staring straight forward with intensity. I tried to imagine what she could possibly be listening to that would make her so immovable and unsociable! The woman to the right of me sat hunched over her phone, texting everyone in her contact list for hours. I tried to be sure she knew I wasn't peaking at her messages (I tried, but the type was too small), but she made sure by dropping her long hair down over her phone. Subtle.

Knowing myself as I do, I had chosen a seat on the front row by the doorway. I really should say it was almost IN the door like a last minute decision to cram another row in there. I was prepared in case I had to bolt. At least I had the advantage of being entertained by each person who had to come and go to the bathroom.

The highlight of the day was being sworn in by Judge Watson White - who cracked jokes about being age 87 and only assigned really short trials... just in case.

But, I had options to keep myself entertained. There were 5 computers in the back of the room for public use. No, I thought. Major flu virus host. There were magazines in racks on the walls. I was sure every page was covered in germs. I took my own water and book, but I was too disinterested to even try to read. I wrote some advertising copy for a client, but that was complete by 9:15. I had time to write an entire British novel (for those of you not into literature - those are known to be unusually lengthy. I call it "the thud factor". It makes a big sound when you drop it on a table and people think you must be smart for reading it. Thank goodness for Cliff Notes - but how I got through a minor in English Lit is for another blog).

Back to the jury room.

The final blow was receiving a handout asking me if I wanted to donate my big $25 juror fee to a Cobb charity, like the animal shelter. Are you kidding me? You want me to take this torture for free? The dogs and cats in the animal shelter have more room to move than I did - and they get to eat in their space! Sheeesh!

Hey, I'm all for helping animals, but I'm trying to make enough money to send my child to college next year and instead of being out trying to make a consulting fee, I'm sequestered in a hot room with hundreds of people coughing and sniffing. I want my $25! I'm going to need it to pay my doctor's visit deductible.

Friday, February 1, 2008

Learning from the Tears

Tonight was so exciting. For only the second time since August, I got to babysit for my grandson. I couldn't wait for him to get here and when he woke up and saw us, he played in such a joyful way that my heart melted just hearing him laugh. But, that didn't last long. Just a few minutes after the giggling and laughter, I noticed him sitting in Ellen's lap with his bottom lip stuck out and a frown coming over his cherub face. Uh oh. Here it comes...

Yep, the lip launched more than an hour of screaming and fighting the sleep he needed. I did everything. I rocked. He screamed. I put him in a dark room with music and rested beside him, talking softly. He screamed. I walked with him. He screamed. I tried a teether. He screamed. I gave him the pacifier (a misnomer tonight). The pattern continued. I checked his diaper. I gave him something to drink. He was not just crying. He was crying hard - and loudly. My heart broke. I couldn't seem to help him.

As I stood in the dark, swaying back and forth with my precious grandson swaddled in a blanket in my arms, I thought, "No matter what, I love you." And God spoke to my heart quickly and clearly, "That's how I feel about you. Even when you go kicking and screaming because I want you to do something you don't want to do. Even when you cry over something. Even when you don't want to cooperate and aren't acting very sweet and lovable. My love never changes. You are just as precious to Me when you're fussy as when you're laughing. The way you behave has no effect on how I feel."

I think tonight I figured out what unconditional love means. As I gave it, I experienced it.