About a month ago, I’m waiting for a medical test when the nurse walks out and starts grinning from ear to ear as she says hello to a woman in the room. They exchange greetings, and then the nurse looks down at the piece of paper in her hand and calls out the next victim’s, I mean patient’s name, which is mine. I look over my shoulder as I walk through the door with her and say, “See you soon, Mom.”
The nurse suddenly realizes the woman she’d been so happy to see is with me. “That’s your Mom?!?” she exclaims, eyes wide.
I grin. “Yep.”
She smiles again. “Oh, she’s SO beautiful.”
I chuckle. “Yeah,” I nod.
The nurse’s brow weaves together. “Oh, you’re beautiful, too,” she adds quickly.
I laugh as she begins telling me why she thinks my mom is so special and beautiful, and quickly I figure out that though she may have only met my mom a handful of times over the years, she knows what most people know…Mom is beautiful inside and out, and that my friends, really is something. Here’s a little birthday card I wrote for the mothership. If you see Jacquelyn, give her a hug…
She prays without end
She’s always a friend,
She falls, she gets up
She tries again
She explores, she sees,
She hikes, she believes
She gardens, she listens
She inspires, she sings
She’s sugar and spice,
She laughs till she cries
She gives everything,
She dares you to dream
True beauty, the real deal
She’s a helper, she’s a fighter
She’s there for you and me.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM! I love you.
Love your favorite pain, (AKA the middle child), Sarah xoxoxo
You know you’re doing the parenting thing right when your twelve-year-old is looking at you with a combination of doubt and amusement. At least, that’s the way I figure it. So the other morning, my beloved dog woke me up at 4:30 as she paced back and forth down the halls and up and down the old wooden staircase of our house over and over. I finally convinced myself to give up on the tossing and turning bit and groggily ventured downstairs and to my fuel, ahem, coffee maker at 5:58. As I was pressing start on my favorite kitchen appliance, the electricity went out. Noooooooooo!
The first five minutes of the power outage I was optimistic. I lit some candles, chatted with my ten-year-old, (who was so excited to be using her new flashlight in the dark), and I decided to start my Bible study. But all I could think about was that coffee. So when the power came on about forty minutes later and I had the first cup of deliciousness in my hand, I was dancing across my kitchen. Now, some people know that kitchen dancing is kind of my thing, but this morning I got lost in the moment. All I know is that I glanced up mid-one-woman-conga-line to see that look I mentioned a minute ago coming at me from my 12-year-old. I was singing the Conga beat, (da-da-da-da-da-da), coffee in hand, my favorite cozy robe on, dancing across the kitchen and in place of shouting “Con-ga! Con-ga!” I was singing, “Cof-fee! Cof-fee!” What can I say? I like my coffee.
A little while after my earlier than usual kitchen dance party, I had just finished my yoga and was at the sink, when I spotted a hawk on my neighbor’s fence. I got excited. I always do when I see hawks. I think they’re so cool I had to include them in my teen fantasy book series, HARMONY RUN. I showed my daughters, who both thought the bird of prey was neat, and enthusiastically alerted my husband. Meanwhile, the hawk flew to another tree. By the time Charles got to the window all he could see was, “something black.” Based off his description, I gathered he didn’t quite seem convinced his dream woman had seen a hawk. (Maybe her overactive imagination had gotten carried away again?) To be honest, I think he was only on his first cup of coffee, so maybe he wasn’t as alert as yours truly. Still, in my ongoing quest to prove to Charles I’m holding onto a bit of sanity, I tugged my boots on, grabbed my camera and a winter coat to go with my yoga pants, and headed out into 23-degree weather.
The hawk moved from branch to branch despite my stealth-like approach, (snow boots snapping every twig and crunching every leaf in my yard), but I kept praying that I could just get one picture to show that man. And voilà. I got one, and only one, picture. But thank you, Lord- that’s all I needed!
When I went back inside, my 12-year-old was laughing, the doubt still lingering on her beautiful face. She nodded towards my yoga Capri pants and shook her head. “Cold, Mom?” she asked. “Yes, but I got the evidence I needed for your dad,” I declared triumphantly. The girls were impressed with the photo. And Charles…well, he took one look at the photo and said, “Oh…wow!” surprise evident in his expression, and that made my dash into the cold worth every freezing moment.
I may be a coffee-chugging-one-woman-Conga-line, but I’m not seeing things. Well, not all of the time, anyway. 😉 Don’t forget to look out your window, friends. You never know what you may see. And the next time your morning cup of coffee brings a smile to your face, why not consider doing the kitchen Conga line? I promise I won’t judge. I’m too busy amusing my children.