Internally rolling our eyes

I think I was only obnoxious once this weekend. Our whole family with some extended family and elderly friends met for lunch and the youngest generation sat at the no-longer-kid's table. About two hours before the funeral, an older gentleman came over to us and said, "Well, kids. I want you to know that I've known your grandfather for a looong time and he was a good man." We all internally rolled our eyes because we didn't want to start the official grieving with condolences period and as the oldest representative of our young generation, I said, "Well, sir. We've known him all our lives and we agree." "... Well, I haven't known him all my life, but ... I'm sure you have... well, nice to meet you," He stammered and left us alone. I think it surprised him.

Find the Humor

See if you can figure out where my family's humor comes from in Gramps' obituary that he wrote himself: http://www.meadvilletribune.com/obituaries/local_story_359214934.html

We're off to Meadville, PA tomorrow morning. With three hours at the wheel each, Mom, Katie, Jamie and I should be there by 9pm.

In his own words, "Ernie's dead. 'Nuff said."

On Christmas Eve

Summary: Seventeen years ago, Grandpa Parrish died of an unexpected heart attack the day after Thanksgiving. This year, we were wondering whether Gramps Wood would also die on that day. With Parkinson's, a few strokes and liver failure, he was going down hill quickly and thus, I returned from France on Nov. 19th. After everyone returned to their New England jobs and schools, I stayed behind with Grandma for a month. We visited Gramps in the nursing home every day, bringing him food requests which included scallops, oyster stew, hot and sour soup and orange soda. On December 14th, I returned to my parents' home in NH to celebrate Christmas.

Two days ago, Grandma called to say Gramps was unresponsive but breathing deeply. Again, I was overwhelmed with the understanding of why I have faced so many challenges in the past two years and have cried oceans over the desire to follow God's will while questioning my winding path. With ties as far back as being placed teaching high school special ed in the fall of 2006 with three jobs since then, I couldn't have orchestrated the opportunity to spend a month with my grandparents ten days before Gramps died.

Gramps died this morning at 8:16am. On Christmas Eve.

We'll all be back in Meadville at the end of the week for the funeral. Since I don't have to be back in school until January 24th, we'll see where I settle down for the month.

I praise God for the opportunity not only to see Gramps again, but to spend a month with them. May I remember how God worked in this situation the next time I doubt His goodness and plan for my life.

Preparing for Christmas with my brother

I'm at "home" in NH with my parents for the holidays. Dad and Jamie drove through two Nor'easters in order to pick me up from Grandma's so I may not rush back south anytime too soon.

Have you ever had a younger brother? One who has gone through a silent, brooding teenage phase, headed off to college and then returned a few years later as a well-spoken, happy, hard-working young man? Jamie has knocked my socks off thus far. He's using great vocabulary words, cooking breakfast, sharing coffee and openly sharing stories. This morning, he and I hiked over to the overgrown Christmas tree farm that's on the other side of the church property that we live on. We found a tree that's twice the size as Jamie with his arms up, thus about 15 ft. tall. He cut it down easily then we started dragging it back to the house through 2 1/2 ft. of snow. We got it up a hill, then down the path, leaving it hidden on the trail until we could tie it to the back of a car and drag it through the church parking lot and up our steep driveway. Here's the game plan (don't tell my mom): We're planning to cut the tree in half and set up the bottom half in our living room where we usually set up a tree. Jamie's brilliant idea is to set up the top of the tree on the next floor-- in Mom's room! :-) She's going to have her own Christmas tree! Hopefully we'll drag the tree up to the house tonight, let it dry overnight, then set them up and decorate them tomorrow with five days to spare. Now I just have to get on the Christmas cards and wrapping gifts...

My calves (not baby cows)

I'm afraid my muscles are atrophying.

Especially my calves.

I have done little physical exercise since I came to live with Grandma and my calves are tight.

No good.

Since I'm headed back to school, then hopefully Jville for the summer and I won't have much relaxation time again until August, I don't feel much guilt. But my sore calves...

Stifled Laughter

Grandma and I were watching TLC's Taking Home Baby about the first few days after a female homosexual couple brought home a newborn. Twenty minutes into the half-hour segment, 85-year old Grandma was pretty confused. All of a sudden she said, "Is that the baby's father?" I quietly agreed, "Ah, yeah," but I was surprised she didn't notice the woman's tank top. A few minutes later, "Is that a man?" I pretended not to hear her. "They keep changing people! Look, I just saw the father. That's not him. That's him!" she decided about the same woman shown from different angles. And I tried to hide my laughter with my sweater...

You've got mail!

Can I say, I'm a little proud of myself? I've become addicted to gmail since I came home. It's like watching the mailbox for a package, but I'm hoping for some written love from my TFA and Faith friends in NC or NJ college friends or French friends or Jumonville folks. Perhaps it's my way to keep connected to the people I love who live all over the world (stinkin' me for moving so much!).

Oh, wait, that's not what I'm proud of. Two days ago, I started tallying the number of times I checked my email each day. Wednesday- 13 times (don't judge!). Thursday- 12 times. Today- 10 times. I'm allowed one more check tonight.

If I keep this up, I could be down to three checks a day by Friday. That's about normal, right?

P.S. If you're thinking, why does that girl not email me back then if she's checking it so often- I'm horribly greedy and enjoy receiving better than sending. Sorry!

Hard to Believe

Retiring at 38?!
http://finance.yahoo.com/retirement/article/103954/Can-You-Afford-Extreme-Early-Retiremen

I'm 23 and still trying to figure out what to do with my life... Three years of seminary will put me at 26... Not bad, a quarter century for education...

I'll admit something, I often question my ability to discern God's will for my life. Am I making the best decision? Should I be moving here? Should I pursue this or that? Should I have pursued that? When?

Since I graduated from college in May '06, I've lived in Atlanta, Raleigh, Pittsburgh and France (and I've acquired one heck of a southern accent, let me tell you!). I've taught in a middle school, a high school and an elementary school (in 12 months!). I've worked as a camp counselor for high risk kids between ages 6 and 17 and I've volunteered with French kids between ages 7 and 22 in a church environment. That provides amble opportunity to question my ability to discern God's will for my life. Mom said something that meant a lot to me about my experiences, "If you had been first placed by TFA in the elementary school rather than the high school, you would still be teaching." If God's will was for me to remain teaching, He wouldn't have placed me in an environment that almost broke my spirit with the daily strain of trying to teach occupational skills to 15-19 year olds who preferred to cuss and yell at me rather than to study since they could barely read and write. I have never debated anything in my life as much as I did my decision to leave. How could I leave these angry kids who resort to drugs, sex and violence because they've been neglected by the system? I think about those kids a few times a week and wish I could have had a bigger influence on their lives. More importantly, may God work in their lives. I pray that I have been following God and will do so more diligently. If I hadn't left the high school, I would have never fallen in love with 5 year old Shemar, 9 year old Silekeon, 5 year old Isaiah and the other little ones I taught in the resource room. If I hadn't left the elementary school, I wouldn't have been able to return to HOPE Camp. If I hadn't gone to France as a volunteer, I wouldn't have been able to return to Grandma's house to keep her company while Gramps is dying in the nursing home. I've got to trust that God has my life in His hands and that He'll continue to lead me. I gave my hopes, dreams and future to Him about four years ago and I'm glad I did.

Spreading the seeds...

Watching Gramps sleep this morning and then as Grandma cut his fingernails, I began thinking about the ideal way to die. Really, I shouldn't do this at all since my ideal romance involving a nonexistent high school sweetheart, "Jessi and Jacob" or "Amie and Tim" style is probably out of my reach and we can't control when we die anyway, so maybe these idealizing thoughts are useless... Needless to say, while it is great that Gramps has been able to see six grandkids grow up (no weddings unfortunately) and to prepare his wife financially for his death, I still think it must be a bit awful to find oneself in a nursing home, having to depend upon others for everything from feeding to bathing. I won't get into details and in fact, it must be better to have help rather than none at all, but... Maybe it's the pride/dignity factor... That being said, I can't think of any other way to die that leaves no one else in pain or in need. I'm probably thinking too much about this...

A visit to Pittsburgh was great this weekend. Recollecting HOPE Camp stories from this summer provides this hilarious story which proves that I'm really not down in the dumps about death all the time:

Laying around with the campers on open sleeping bags laid out in the grass (one of Mr. Keith's best ideas ever), I was given the opportunity to describe my faith experience to the 10-year olds. Surrounded by the woods, I compared my faith to the growth of a tree, rooted in childhood experiences and hopefully now dropping seeds of encouragement for others to grow as well. One of the boys questioned surprisedly, "You mean, Miss Heather, you've got kids?!" No, I'm not spreading my seed like that! :-)