On 25 Dollars (Or Lack Thereof)

My birthday is in one month. I will be one year shy of turning 30, and I already have a big plan in place to make 29 memorable. Stay tuned for more details.

My mom asked me what type of cake I wanted for my birthday, and as I started to say what flavor I truly wished for, I realized that this would be the first time in my entire life I wouldn't share a piece of cake with my grandmother. And for the first time in my entire life, there would be no envelope waiting for me with my standard gift of $25.

That made me start to do some math.

I always sort of made fun of the fact that my grandmother always gave us 25 for our birthdays, despite the little economic term called inflation. I was able to buy a half of a tank of gas one year for my birthday, which I always thought was humerous. These days, 25 might fill up a quarter of a tank, if I'm lucky.

But I got 25 each year for 28 years, consistently.

That's 700 dollars.

When you put it that way, it doesn't seem so chintzy, does it?

It's going to be weird having a birthday without her. Last year, I had a freuadian slip when I told my mom we needed to make sure we saved a piece of cake for Mema and Grandad. It's hard sometimes realizing tha they aren't still here. And I'll admit, I haven't deleted her number from my favorites on my phone. (And truth be told, I still call her number sometimes, even though I know the operator will answer and tell me it is no longer a working number.)

But my birthday fund is going to cease at $700. There will be no card signed "Grandma" even though she knew good and well I only called her that when referring to her to my cousins (and part of me thinks she did it just to make me mad anyways.)

But I think I'll eat a piece of cake in her memory, just because.

Weeva

2013 has been filled with a lot of death.

I'm sure there's a lesson to learn here somewhere. I'm just not sure what it is yet.....or if I'm fully ready to learn it.

I learned today that my childhood nanny passed away. She died less than a week from my grandmother's last day on Earth. Her name was Geneva, but to me she will always be "Weeva" as my 2 year old self couldn't say the "G."

I would go to sleep at night with my mom and dad in the house, and I woke up the next day being greeted by Weeva. She would come in the room and ask me if I wanted chocolate milk or white milk, and sometimes she'd let me have both. I've never seen someone so angry as the time I pushed open the second story window and sat on the ledge of the house, dangling my feet.

She'd play all day with me for hours and hours. With my kitchen; with my playhouse; with my dolls. She'd make me play school and take naps. And we would walk back and forth to Mema and Granddad's house with me. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Two very important ladies, gone from this Earth and hopefully somewhere much happier.

I'm not ready to do the dirty work and start sorting through the emotions of what my grandmother being gone really means. I will in time, but I don't want to force it. It's different from when my grandfather died in a lot of ways. And this news is going to make it that much tougher as it's another part of my childhood that has quickly faded away.

I hope "Weeva" enjoyed her final years on life, and I hope she knew that she was important to the kids who she so sweetly kept.

Rest well, Weeva. And thank you for all the years of chocolate milk.

An Open Letter: David Walton

Dear David Walton,

Wow. You've inspired me to write an open letter....something I haven't done in a 6 months. You are certainly special.

David, I've been a really busy girl. I've been so busy that I honestly can't recap everything that's happened in the past two months. But I do know that I remember the first time I saw you pop on my screen.

Mr. Walton, you might honestly be the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my whole entire life.

(Borrowed from TVGuide.com)

(No one rocks a sweater as great as this.)

(Ever.)

I do wonder if your gorgeousness extends beyond the pictures and sitcoms I've seen you in recently. And you have been in a LOT of stuff lately, which makes me very happy. Because if your popularity increases and your talent and mega hotness is appreciated, then you will be in lots more stuff which means lots more opportunities for me to see your bright and most darling eyes.

I'm actually contemplating purchasing Season 2 of the New Girl on DVD when it comes out just so I can enjoy your awesomeness whenever the fancy strikes.

In all seriousness, David Walton, if you ever read this, I'm not some serial stalker. I'm just being completely superficial when I say that I have a complete crush and your beauty has inspired me in a period of crazy. Your wife is lovely, too. It's nice that pretty people gravitate towards each other.

May your eyes continue to sparkle. And may your stint on the New Girl get extended.

Sincerely,
A Swooning Fan

My Theater Buddies

My father wanted to go to the movie on his birthday. At first, I found this request incredibly weird. My dad asking to go to the movie for this birthday is like me asking to go to Academy Sports for mine. It's an activity that I don't hate, but certainly not a decision I would intentionally make.  He claimed it was because he wanted movie popcorn for his birthday dinner, but I honestly think he just wanted to make my mom happy and go see "Promised Land" for her.

So that's how I found myself on the King's Birthday seeing a movie with my mom and dad on a random Tuesday night. There was no one at the theater when I met my parents there except for a few people who were going to see Les Miserables. We had the entire theater to ourselves, which was kind of cool. My dad always like to sit on the first row in front of the metal bars, which in my opinion is entirely too close to the screen, but hey....his birthday, his choice.

We are sitting there, chatting through the forever long previews when this woman walks in, holding a huge bag of popcorn. She looks around the empty theater, takes a breath, and walks to the front row where we are sitting. And only pausing for a small moment, she sits down two seats over from me. 

"How weird" I say to myself. Out of an entire theater, she decides that she wants to get up close and personal with me. I think that she's probably got some sort of anxiety issue and needs to be around people when she sees movies alone or something random like that, and I refocus my attention to the Diet Coke ad in front of me. 

A few minutes later, a man comes in the theater, sees the lady and nods with recognition. He then proceeds to join us on our row, and sit RIGHT NEXT TO ME. 

Now, let me preface, these people had every right to sit that close during the movie. Had it been a Friday night or even a midnight premiere, I'd be perfectly accepting. But it was a Tuesday night in a B-movie in an empty theater. Out of probably 400 seats, these people sat down right next to me.

I have theories.

1) They are communication professors doing an experiment on non-verbal communication and the art of expressing awkwardness.

2) They are Amish people who had snuck out to go to the flick but felt weird being by themselves and needed to surround themselves with other humans.

3) They are just really odd people who have no social cues.

I'm sure there is a deeper message to be found in my encounter with my movie buddies. But I just thought it was weird and wanted to share. Perhaps you have some deeper insights?

I think I'll try sitting next to someone the next time I go to a week day movie.

Train Up A Child

What a way to instill a love of theme park rides early. I commend these parents for making sure at a young age that their children don't get sick on the Tea Cups at Disney World.

Rest Well, Sweet Wendi

I had some fun posts that I'd started. I did my song of Christmas post. I did my year in review post. I did my resolutions post. All of them were in the draft box waiting to be updated and posted to record what the holidays and 2012 looked like for me.

But then, my New Year's Eve was no longer a celebration of 2012 and 2013. It morphed into something more beautiful as heaven gained another citizen when sweet Wendi Ray left this world to be with Jesus.

A preacher once did a sermon about how we as humans could never be certain when someone went to Heaven. I remember him talking about how we preach people into Heaven at funerals, and how only the Father would know the true contents of a person's heart as to whether or not they were destined for Heaven or for Hell. That sermon has stuck with me for at least 15 years, and I've always struggled with it. I like to believe my Grandfather is singing "There's A Rainbow" at the glory of Jesus's feet right now. I like to think that my buddy Michael is there enjoying all that the timelessness of Heaven has to offer. But, that preacher told me I couldn't ever truly know. And it's really bothered me all this time.

Until last night. Because last night, his theory was bucked completely out of the bullpen. Wendi went to be with Jesus.

No doubts. No maybes. No question.

I've cried heaps of tears over the past 24 hours thinking about that girl. She was a staple of my teenagehood in so many ways. Do you know how many times I sat on the couch in Bethel Baptist Church in Columbiana amazed at the girl's Word Search Skills? She could do those infuriating puzzles in her sleep. She was my CCS Football buddy during my junior year, and she sat with my mom during most of the games during my senior year when I cheered.

I went back for a few games during my Freshman year of college, and I sat with Wendi during all of those ballgames. I will never forget the evening on a late October Friday as we sat with long sleeve sweaters and sitting under a blanket that Wendi proudly told me that she had just turned 30. "You did?" I asked. "When was your birthday?" thinking that she would tell me October 1 or something along those lines. "May 28." I chucked at the childlike excitement she had over her birthday that had passed months ago. "Wendi, that's near my birthday! We are May birthday friends." She got this wicked grin on her face and said, "Awww, buddy."

She was saving up money to buy a bedspread at one point during our friendship, and Ms. Sallie was always encouraging her to save her paycheck from the center where she worked. Instead, Wendi would come to the office with 25 cent treasures, and plead to me "Don't tell my mother. Look what I got today." And in her bag would be t-shirts and colored pens and various treasures she'd found that day.

The world is a sadder place today without Wendi in it.

Wendi hurt. I could see it when I visited her a few weeks ago, and I could see it when I saw her on Christmas Eve. She was spunky to the end though, and I could see her smile when I told her she was the only one I would spend money on to buy an Alabama Santa hat.

The world may be sadder. But Wendi? She's free! She's in light! She's whole again, with no boundaries and zero limitations!

That preacher? He was wrong. Completely and 100% wrong. Wendi is in Heaven.

Her 40th birthday invitation is still on my refrigerator from this summer. I didn't want to take it down at first because it made me happy to see her sweet face everyday. And then I didn't want to take it down because it was a constant reminder to pray for her every time I passed it. And now, I can't take it down because I can't stand the thought of ever forgetting Wendi.

Like I could ever do that.

Rest, sweet friend. You did something that so many of us can only dream of doing in our short lives. You made people smile. You warmed hearts with laughter. You left a legacy.

Roll Tide, Wendi. You are one of few people I would ever say those words for. And if you find the other one, tell him that I said hi too.

Paying It Forward For Newtown

It's amazing what a few small acts of kindness can do.

Two weeks ago, I challenged myself and my friends to go out into the world and do good in honor of the sweet children lost in the Newtown tragedy. I asked each of them to provide me a story or two from their good deeds, and I would post about them (anonymously) here.

Here are some of the cool things my friends did: (I've paraphrased from conversations.)

-"I've been putting messages with my RAOKs that have a name of one of the victims on it - so important that we know their names, you know?"

-"I adopted a soldier on the internet. It was super easy. He hasn't responded yet, but I can't wait for him too!"

-"I was glad my lunch plans got canceled, cause it gave me the opportunity to go through the drive through and by someone else's Wendy's."

-"I bought $5 starbucks cards yesterday and put them on car windshields and today i've taped $1 bills with notes to a few of the vending machines on campus. Cheap, easy, and fun, if you ask me!"

-"I went through the Taco Bell line, hoping and praying for a car full of people to pull up behind me. I was determined I was going to pay for their dinner. I wanted a car of 3 people to pull up behind me to get their Taco Hell fill so I could take care of it."

-"I overheard my waitress at 'restaurant' say she had a horrible toothache and left her Orajel at home. She had a long shift to go, so I went to the drug store across the street and bought her some Orajel. When I brought it back to her, she cried. And then I cried."

-"I doubled the tax on dinner bill so my waiter got a 100% tip."

-"I left Christmas cards on the windshields of 26 cars in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I got index cards and wrote the names of the children on the top and wished them a Merry Christmas and encouraged them to pay it forwards."

-"My niece and I went to Walmart this afternoon and did a little shopping. We selected 20 toys: 12 girl items and 8 boy items. She, of course did not know the complete story or reason behind this, but she said she was so glad she got to give toys to little boys and girls who would not otherwise have them. As we walked up and down the aisles, and she suggested things to purchase (she was really good at that part) I could not help but think how completely blessed I am to have her and how much more wonderful my world is with her in it. The child has definitely been hugged a lot tighter this past week. We took the toys to our local firehouse and she was so excited. As we walked up the sidewalk, she laughed and said, "All of these firemen are going to think we have an emergency....but then we'll say: it's ok- we're just bringing toys!" She thanked the firemen for taking the toys to the children and for keeping us safe. One day, when she's older, I'll tell her that those dolls, trucks and coloring books meant so much more. She will know that they were in honor of Emilie, Noah, Allison, Josephine, Charlotte, Daniel, Olivia, Dylan, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, Jesse, Ana, James, Grace, Jack, Jessica, Avielle, Benjamin and another sweet little girl named Caroline......"

-"My wife and I got our church life group organized and went caroling to an assisted living facility near our church. We brought them cider and cookies and sang Christmas carols. After we were done singing, we visited with them for a few minutes. The guy I talked to kept telling me how excited he was about going to his daughter's house for Christmas. He has a new great-granddaughter and when I told him we were doing the 26 Acts of Kindness, he started to tear up because he was so sad cause his new granddaughter's name was the same as one of the kids who died."

Amazing stuff, people. We did some good.

I hope that in the days to come, we forget the name of the guy who did this horrible thing and remember the names and faces of the little ones who lost their lives.

And this Christmas, I made sure to give the Josephine in my life an extra hug and valued that sloppy kiss a little bit more when I thought about the friends of another Josephine. I'm sure she had a friend like me who loved her very much and would give anything for a flu-filled kiss and a toothy grin.

Keep paying it forward, people. And thanks for joining me in this fun exercise. If you have a fun story, email me and let me know what you did to pay it forward for Newtown, and I'll add it to this post.

20 Acts of Kindness for 20 Children

This weekend was a sad one. My heart was super heavy with the news out of Newtown, CT. As the names of the victims started hitting the media, we heard story after story of heroism and destroyed innocence.

And one name kept hitting me more than others. Josephine Gay. There isn't much out there about little Josephine, other than a funny little picture of her in big classes and a silly hat. Her family is requesting privacy and aren't releasing a lot of information about her.

But her name. It struck me. That's Little Miss's name. My sweet little friend who calls me "Adee" and smiles with a sweet wrinkle in her nose when she seems me. The little one I always call "Girlfriend" when I see her. Someone's Little Miss is gone. And it is senseless. Absolutely ridiculous.

I read about this really cool concept on Facebook, and I think I'm going to participate. In honor of Josephine Gay and all the other innocent little ones who lost their lives on Friday, I'm going to do something in their memory, and I'm also challenging you to as well.

I'm calling it 20 Acts of Christmas Kindness. Before December 25, I'm going to attempt to do 20 random acts of kindess in the memory of each student, and I want you to try it too. If just four people who read this blog accept the challenge to do the same, that would be 100 people whose lives are touched by a simple act of goodness in this world before Christmas Day.

Will you join me in doing this? Let's join hands and make a difference this week.

It could be as simple as paying for the lunch of the person behind you in the Chick-fil-a take out line. It could be giving that co-worker that annoys the crap out of you a candy bar. It could mean sending a Facebook message to a teacher that has touched your life or visiting an elderly person at a nursing home.

So, basically, I need four people to help me out. Can you be one of those four people? Email/Facebook/Text me and let me know if you want to be part of making some good out of some bad.

20 Acts for 20 Children.

Challenge Starts Now.

UPDATE: Jennifer, April, Lisa, Amy, Aimee, Melanie, Meg, Bryan, Kevin, Amy, Ericka and Chris are in. Want to join us?

Peace On Earth

I sit at my desk, listening to Silent Night on my Pandora as I read about the horror in Connecticut right now. And while I have no children, I'm crying for the mommies and daddies who have presents under the tree this Christmas for babies who won't come home to open them. And of course, as I write this, "I'll Be Home For Christmas" comes on.

Perhaps, I'll turn Pandora off for the afternoon.

If you happen to stumble on this blog today, please pray for Connecticut and for the sweet kids who saw blood and horror today instead of Christmas lights and jingle bells. May God comfort them and their families.

Peace on Earth, and Good Will Towards Men.

The Most Powerful Wish Of All: Cold

I love Christmas. Shocker. And I love going to Gatlinburg at Christmas more than any other Christmas activity. I love the twinkly lights and the glitter everywhere and the Christmas music and shows and wearing my big sweaters and scarves and drinking hot chocolate.

So a few weeks ago, my friends AN and LB and I journeyed to the Land Where Christmas Threw Up after work on a Friday and spent Saturday and most of Sunday in Christmas splendor. We drank hot chocolate. We rode the Christmas train. We rode roller coasters amidst lights and Christmas music. We watched my three favorite Dollywood Christmas shows. We didn't spend as much time oohing and ahhing over the bakery items as LB would have liked, but I think I made up for it by introducing her to the world's best quiche and a pretty mean corndog. (RIP Miss Stella's. P.S. Dollywood, what's with the name change? That's just dumb.)

It was perfectly cold that night. We all had one scarfs and mittens. We wore our boots and jeans as we walked around, and LB insisted on going in a store or two so she could warm up. And while I loved the weather, there was a small part of me that was hopeful for even COLDER weather when I returned with my parents three weeks later. It was so lovely walking out of the Christmas on Ice show and seeing the lights in the chilly weather. It was 38 the night we were there, and I was hoping the temperature change would be a little more drastic when I came back.

Yeah. Be careful what you ask for. And in this case, the drastic weather change I asked for turned into 80 degree weather in December.

So much for the snow covered day I was hoping for. So much for needing a warm beverage to warm your soul. So much for riding the train and being huddled together to keep warm. It was so hot that I refused to sit on the same train bench with my parents because doing so would have made us be huddled next to another family and my personal space was sweating and didn't need more invading. I fanned myself with a brochure as my mom and I sat and watched the Nativity.

And to top it all off, I only carried boots for this trip, because due to my ridiculous ankle, those are the winter shoes that fit the best and cause the least stress on my ankle. Do you know what boots do to people in 80 degree weather? They make people sweat. And I had only brought my skinny-legged jeans to wear with my boots, and my legs felt like a hot July day in Disney World. I finally couldn't take it anymore, and I made a special trip to Old Navy for some different pants to wear with my flip-flops. In December.

I think back to when I went to Disney after my college graduation in 2006. I was SO excited to finally see Disney at Christmastime, and then when I got there, it was kinda "eh." Don't get me wrong. The most magical place in the world was gorgeous with Christmas decorations and lights. But it wasn't cold. And I just have a really difficult time feeling all "Falalalalalalalala" when I'm sweating and jonesing for a snow cone instead of a latte.

Do these people look like they are ready for a hot Christmas in the Smokies? I think not.

Of course, the weather is 40 degrees today and cold and wintry. Wouldn't ya know?

Oh well. At least these guys are fun to watch, regardless of the temperature outside. Somehow, I just know that the one on the left is going to make it home for Christmas. That's what's most important, right ladies?

Maybe there will be snow next year. And like the play "Twas The Night" says, "A wish you make with your heart is the most powerful wish of all." Pardon me, as I go wish for a snowy trip for 2013.