Operation Christmas Child: Mission Complete

I set a goal almost a year ago that I would try to fill 24 Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes this year. Mission Complete. I dropped the boxes off at church on Friday before we left town for homecoming.

I didn't do as great of a job buying items for my boxes throughout the year as I'd hoped. But that's where I am going to learn from my "mistakes" and do better next year. One thing that's not a mistake: 24 children will feel the love of Jesus and hear the gospel message because of those 24 boxes.

At least I did do a good job of setting aside the money for shipping ($7 per box) throughout the year. That will kill you if you don't accumulate it gradually. I just put a $20 bill in an envelope about once a month. And, because of experience in prior years, I decided to get a money order for my box total ($168) instead of depositing the money and writing a check. Why? Because, in years past, my check sat in one of the shoeboxes for a couple of weeks before it ever got deposited. I didn't want to forget I'd spent $168 and then later have it disappear from my account!

Twenty-four turned out to be a perfect number. A lot of the items that I bought in bulk were sold in quantities of 8 or 12...which meant I'd have the exact right number if I bought either two or three packs of whatever the item was.

I bought my boxes early in the year and a few other items as I came across them or as I knew they would be on sale (i.e. crayons for 25 cents a box at back-to-school time). I need to do a better job next year of hitting up the sales in the days and week following holidays: Valentine's Day, Fourth of July, Back-to-School, Halloween (usually where I get some of my biggest scores), Thanksgiving (which means THIS year) and Christmas (also this year). Shoot...I might even get some deals after New Year's Eve and some of the other "minor" holidays.

I also might take a closer look at my Oriental Trading Company purchases before making them next year. I bought several bulk items from there, because they are super inexpensive. The only problem is, they're also very cheap (low-quality) and tiny.

To the best of my recollection, here's what went into my boxes this year (12 boy boxes and 12 girl boxes).

• Coloring books (Oriental Trading)
• 24-packs of crayons (Target - on sale for 25 cents a piece during back-to-school)
• Washcloths (Target)
• Plastic whistles (Target - party favors aisle)
• Novelty sunglasses (Target - party favors aisle)
• Mini pinball games (Oriental Trading)
• Plastic mugs (Oriental Trading)
• Mini Play-Doh (Target - bags of 20 on sale after Halloween)
• Mini paddleball games (Oriental Trading)
• Spinning tops (Oriental Trading)
• Matchbox cars (Dollar General or Big Lots - boys' boxes only)
• Suckers & gum (Target - on sale after Halloween)
• Hair bows and clips (Big Lots - girls' boxes only)
• Combs (Big Lots - girls' boxes only)
• Nail polish (Dollar General - girls' boxes only)
• Stuffed animals (We donated about a dozen from Rylan's basket of untouched stuffed animals, and I bought the other dozen at Dollar General)
• Bars of soap (Costco)
• Pencils (Dollar General)
• Toothbrushes (Donated by Jason's dentist)
• Toothpaste (Donated by Trey's dentist)
• Notepads (Big Lots)
• Mini spiral notebooks (Dollar General)
• Tennis balls (Target)
• Sidewalk chalk (Target, I think. I bought two big boxes and divided the chalk into Ziplock bags)
• Mini yo-yos (Oriental Trading)
• Mini beach balls (Oriental Trading)
• Finger skateboards (Big Lots - boys' boxes only)
• Kaleidoscopes (Dollar General)

That's all I can remember. I'm sure there were probably a couple more items I can't recall. But, I wanted to put that all down in writing to help me with my shopping for next year!

I think I'm going to set the same goal for myself for next year, but I will strive to do a better job of buying more earlier in the year instead of going on a buying frenzy the last few weeks before boxes came due. If I change it up at all, it might be to throw in a couple of boxes for the two age groups I didn't touch. All of my boxes were the 5-9 age group, which I'm assuming is probably the most popular. Maybe next year I'll pick up a couple of 2-4 year-old boxes or a box or two for the 10-14 age group.

I love my daddy.

I do. I am my daddy's girl. While I do have a good mix of each of my parents' attributes, I am largely my father. I have his personality. I have his sense of humor. I have his work ethic. I even ventured into a very similar profession.

I am 100% okay with that.

Every couple of weeks, my phone will ring sometime mid morning. It's my dad, calling to see if I can meet for lunch in a couple of hours. More often than not, I can. (When I can't, it bums me out.)

I was driving home from the chiropractor's office when my phone rang this morning. I saw that it was my dad, so I didn't answer. What? Didn't I just say I love my dad? He's recently gone on a kick against talking on cell phones while driving. So, I didn't answer, because I didn't want to lie and say I wasn't driving, and I didn't want to feel deceptive by answering and misleading him. But I knew he was likely calling to ask about my lunch plans.

I waited for the voice mail, then picked that up while driving. (Sorry dad!) I did wait until I got home to call him back and confirm lunch, though.

He had reason to be in my neck of the woods at lunchtime, so we met at Fatz. Yum!

Daddy-daughter-grandson time. :) It was sweet. And we laughed so hard at R that I nearly cried.

My sweet daddy meeting 

my sweet baby boy for the first time.

Fall Unfavorites

As a follow-up to my previous post about my favorite fall things, I thought I'd be fair and post about what I don't like about fall. Here goes:

• Pumpkin spice lattes 

And, I wish I did. I'm just not into pumpkin stuff. I will certainly settle for knowing that whatever warm beverage I order, it won't make me break out into a sweat. 

I would add raking leaves to that list, but we just have a couple of really tiny trees. Jason can use the mower to take care of whatever leaves actually happen to fall in our yard.

Fall Favorites

A friend of mine posted this:

People who don't like fall have some serious problems, how could you not like fall?!

Agreed. In honor of her post, I thought I'd post some of my favorite things about fall.

• A much-needed break from the oppressive summer heat
• Wear whatever and be comfortable weather (specifically jeans, t-shirts and flip-flops weather)
• Open windows (and turning the air/heat completely off)
• Crisp air
• The colors of the changing leaves
• Football (I have a love/hate relationship with football; but there's just something great about having the windows open, plopping down on the couch and zoning in on a football game.)
• Munchies (I love an excuse to make and/or consume all kinds of football-watching food.)
• Concert season (It seems like every band goes on tour in the fall. Though it's not the concert-hopping fest it used to be for us, at least we'll get to catch a show here or there...because bands are actually coming to town.)
• General busy-ness (fall brings all kinds of fun stuff)
• Fall for Greenville (which, sadly, I will miss this year)
• Getting back in my car after it's been parked for a bit and not burning my buns on the seat
• Thanksgiving (I. love. comfort. food.)

Since fall isn't even remotely here yet, I'm sure this is just a short list. Maybe I'll amend it once fall is in full swing! Or maybe I'll be too busy enjoying all the perks of fall!

Southern Belle

For once, I'm not talking about this in reference to one of my favorite songs. :)

Today, a friend e-mailed me this article from Garden & Gun magazine. In its entirety, it's eight screens worth of reading, but I'm only concerned about the first three.

My friend's note to me (and the others to which she sent this) included the following:

It discusses a new meaning of "southern" 

and I know for me, explains a lot about who I am.

We talk a lot about "culture" in reference to other countries and the way they do things. Until this afternoon, I'd never really considered the culture in which I was raised. Even though I know different parts of the good ole U-S-of-A have their different nuances and personalities, I never really put much thought into how much being from the South helps define who I am...in a good way.

Aside from "Southern hospitality," the only other aspect of the South that I've thought much about is the Southern twang (which I proudly do not have).

So bring on the meat-and-three, the true Southern hospitality, the self respect, the babies and the community. I'm proud to be a real Southern Belle!

The Sequel

A few blogs back, I mentioned that there were lots of things I wanted to blog about, but just couldn't. I'm finally able to blog about one of them, since we made it public last week.

I am pregnant!

Yessiree Bob. I'm about 11 weeks along, which makes my official due date March 13, 2012. There's really no coherent or obvious way to weave together my thoughts and some of the fun facts I have to share, so I'm going to rely (once again) on my trusty bullets:

• My children will be roughly 20 months apart. 
• That means I will have two in diapers at the same time. And two under two. Wowza!
• I always said I wanted to have my two babies by the time I was 30. I never really thought that would happen, but I'm going to be basically accomplishing that. I turn 30 on January 21st. 
• I'm secretly hoping this baby will be born March 15th. That way, both my babies will have birthdays on the 15th. That's fun.
• Everyone's telling me how great I'm going to be as the mother of lots of children. Um...lots? Is there something I don't know? 
• I already have anxiety about trying to figure out how to shower (or otherwise get anything accomplished) with two children.
• Most of my family is already on the boy bandwagon. That's their guess at least. I'm just not convinced one way or another yet.
• If it is a boy, the seasons will be close enough that we'll be able to use a lot of R's clothes.
• If it is a girl, I'm going to need some serious help, because I don't know that I'm cut out for picking out frilly outfits.
• If it is a girl, there will be a serious limit on the amount of pink we bring into this house.
• I've already had two ultrasounds and have been able to see the little booger rockin' and rollin'. 
• Speaking of ultrasounds...FUN FACT: I had two early ultrasounds with R. His heart rate at the first was 129; at the second, it was 176. This baby has had the exact same rates as R: 129 at the first ultrasound and 176 at the second. Weird!
• I have morning (and noon and night) sickness. Meh. 
• I'm so stinkin' excited about how close these two will grow as they get older. I know it'll be harder on me in the first few years, but I'm already imagining how awesome it will be once they're old enough to be friends! 
• Since they'll be so close in age, they will even be in middle school together for a year. That's something my sister and I never had, since there are nine years between us!

The grandfather I never knew

Family is important to me. I dearly love my family. And, the older I've gotten, the more I've grown to appreciate the bonds and love within my family.

I have a modern-day family tree. It's one where some branches of the tree have broken off and reattached elsewhere. My family tree splits and twists. But there's a lot of love (and weirdness) all over it.

One of the areas where there aren't warm fuzzies is my paternal grandfather. I'm not going to get into the details. The extent to which I know the man is that I've met him once. I was eight years old. So, needless to say, I didn't know him.

He died Monday. (I found out yesterday.) It was strange not to feel much of anything. It didn't really affect my day or my mood.

I am directly related to him. Without him, my dad would not have been born. In turn, that means, his existence was essential in my existence. It's strange to try to reconcile that with the fact that he and I walked the earth for 29 of the same years, but never knew each other.

Despite all that, I found myself praying for him as he lay dying. Since I didn't know him, I couldn't say with any degree of certainty what his relationship with Jesus was. But I assumed he didn't have one. I prayed that he would find Him before it was too late.

And now that he's gone, I just have one biological grandparent left: my mom's mother. She was always the oldest of the four. She's currently 89 and feisty as ever. But that's an entirely different post...

Know Your Role

I had a meeting today for the event I'm volunteering my time to plan. If I'm completely honest, earlier this week I was a bit disenchanted with my involvement in this event. I got the feeling that there had been miscommunication about my role...or that I wasn't doing what I was supposed to be doing. I received a phone call yesterday from one of the people in charge of the event. When I got off the phone with her, I felt a HUGE weight lift off my shoulders. No one is mad at me. I'm not letting anyone down. In fact, I was the one who had misunderstood exactly what they wanted me to do; and I like the real role even better.

I expected the meeting today to be fierce. I thought that there was still one person who was going to be out for blood. I was wrong. And I'm glad I was wrong. I am, once again, excited about the event.

By some miracle, my baby boy was an angel during our meeting. (Don't get me wrong. He's very chill and such a good baby. But I had to muck up his routine to take him to this meeting...which was during naptime.) I knew he would fall asleep on our way home, so I opted to take the scenic route home so that he could catch some Z's and maybe reset back into his usual sequence of daily activities.

I've mentioned before that driving is soothing for me. It's something I enjoy. It gives me time to think.

I realized something on my joy ride home. My last blog made it sound like I doubt who I am. That's not accurate. I haven't changed. Sure, I've added "mom" to my life resume, and it's in much bigger font than my other titles right now. But it's my role that has changed; not me.

And I realized it has a domino effect of sorts. I must learn to reshape and refocus everything else through the reality of my mommy role. And that makes it much easier for me to comprehend.

Part of me thinks this was an epiphany of sorts...an "a-ha moment." And part of me thinks it was a "shoulda had a V-8 moment." Either way, I'll take it.

I knew myself once

In high school and early college, when a lot of kids are just flying by the seat of their pants and doing whatever feels right, I spent a lot of time looking into myself. I was blessed to figure out who I was. Knowing myself brought me a confidence when I graduated college and interviewed for jobs. It ensured that I married the right man. It helped me grow into my career and my church.

Fast forward a decade or so.

I still know myself, but my entire circumstance has changed. I had a baby. I quit my job. I pledged to continue working as a volunteer with an organization I'd done work with when I was employed. (That's been hard.)

So here I am. With a college degree I earned with my hard work. With the first phases of my career gone and officially "on  hold." With a precious six-month-old son. With an ever-changing daily routine. (It's true what they say: as soon as you get the baby figured out, he changes it up on you.)

Deep at my core, I still know myself. I am truly thankful, grateful to have that part figured out. That is the part of me that will never change.

But I haven't quite figured out who I am as a wife and mother whose sole job is to care for husband and son. I don't doubt for a second that it's where I'm supposed to be. But I don't have it figured out just yet...

Best. Christmas. Ever.

 It was overwhelming. But it was pretty darn perfect. 

We started our morning very peacefully, just the three of us. I'll cherish this photo forever.

And this is one of my favorite pictures. I can't look at it without laughing.

The icing on the cake was experiencing my first-ever WHITE Christmas! It was very special to be able to have my first white Christmas, my husband's first white Christmas and my son's first white Christmas all be at the same time. How exciting!

O Holy Night

I've known this song since I was a child. I've always thought "O Holy Night" sounded powerful when sung by a choir. I've sung the lyrics a thousand times. Somehow, I never actually let the lyrics soak in. 

This year, I did. 

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

'Til He appeared, and the soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope

The weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

WOW. 

Chills.

That's the hope of Jesus right there. Just packed right into a few lines of a song. I've never seen such a powerful statement in so few words.

For to us a child is born

Christmas has always been special to me. What makes it special has evolved over the years. But this year has been the most meaningful, by far. R's birth provided me with the missing piece to truly feel the wonder and miracle of Christmas.

I vividly remember the amazement I felt as I held my baby boy for the first time. I remember thanking God for giving me such a precious little boy. My heart swelled with pride. I wish for great things for my son. I pray for him to grow into a strong, intelligent man who loves the Lord.

But can you imagine how Mary felt knowing that her son would be greater than any other? She gave birth to the Savior of the world! It must have been infinitely greater than the wonder I felt when I held R for the first time. Can you imagine? I love the lyrics to this song...

Mary Did You Know?

Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered, will soon deliver you.

Mary did you know that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?
Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God.

The blind will see, the deaf will hear and the dead will live again.
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak, the praises of the lamb.

Mary did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding is the great I am.

In the still of the night

I've been a night owl for as long as I can remember. I can stay up as late as you want me to, just don't ask me to get up early too often, okay?

I had a meeting for church at the home of some of our friends tonight. I took R with me, hoping that I could put him to bed there and just perform what Jason and I call a "baby transplant" later to bring him home. Evidently there was too much going on, and R just looked at me and smiled instead of going to sleep. In order to avoid certain disaster, I scooped him up, headed home and trusted that Jason would fill me in later on the details of the meeting.

The best way to get back home was through a series of back roads through the middle of nowhere. I was a little bummed to have my grand plan crash in on me, but I quickly found myself at peace, rather than ill. Why? Because I found myself in the middle of a dark night, driving down mostly empty roads and staring at a starry sky. I love that. And, for the first time, I began to wonder why I enjoy it quite so much.

I think I might have found the answer. (Maybe.) Settle in, this might be a long one.

I went to a fabulous summer camp when I was younger. It's called Camp Winshape. Every summer, I took two weeks to head to middle of nowhere Rome, Georgia, and experience pure bliss on Berry College's campus. Truett Cathy, the founder of Chick-fil-a, started Camp Winshape, and I thank him for it. It's a perfect little Christian summer camp that built me up and left me with lifelong memories. 

One of the greatest experiences of my life took place there. 

Toward the end of every two week session, there was an optional challenge for the oldest campers. I, being the ever-so-competitive person I am, was not one to turn down a challenge. So, my last year of camp, when I was 16 years old, I embarked on the 24-hour Challenge of Possum Trot. 

The challenge was very involved, but always began late at night (11 p.m., I think) with each participant embarking on a talking ban. From that point forward, no words or noises are to come from your mouth. The challenge was progressive, and any mistake resulted in disqualification. 

After taking the vow of silence, participants took what they called a "brisk walk" to Possum Trot. This "brisk walk" was truly a seven-mile jog. The campers had backpacks, but no flashlights, and were required to keep a pace that would keep them following the lead counselor, but not let them fall behind the counselor in the rear. (Thus, the "brisk" pace was set.)

Part of the jog was in the middle of the woods on a gravel path. No flashlight. Literally the only way I knew where to run was by following the sounds of the feet hitting the gravel ahead of me. After what seemed like a never-ending trek through the nearly pitch black darkness of the woods, we came to the end of the tree line. Fields stretched out to either side, and the sky sparkled with shining stars. 

Remember, this camp is in the middle of nowhere. The farther you are from city lights, the brighter the stars appear. 

I vividly remember that image. I remember the way the path felt beneath my feet. I remember the fence along the field. I remember the black night and the shining stars.

But, most of all, I remember how I felt. I was close to God. So close. That was probably the first time in my life that I truly, undoubtedly felt His presence. 

I don't know how long that stretch of trail was. But, at that point, I was so focused and so prayerful. It was one of the purest moments in my life. 

That, my friends, is the best explanation I can create for why I feel so comfortable - so at home - in the middle of nowhere on a dark, starry night. I love appreciating God's beauty during sunsets, on the ocean, in the mountains. But there's something special to me about the simple beauty of a starry night and the closeness I feel when He and I can share some time alone in the middle of nowhere.

Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens:
   Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one
   and calls forth each of them by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
   not one of them is missing.
-- Isaiah 40:26

My history with history

One of my least favorite subjects in school was always history. I didn't enjoy studying it. I didn't enjoy sitting through history class. I just never could seem to commit historical facts to memory. In fact, my only two college C's were in my two required history classes. (I still regret that I didn't choose to S/U those two classes.)

As I've gotten older, I've realized I love history. But I love the history that I want to study. There are several historical events/things which absolutely fascinate me. The Titanic. September 11th. Anything related to Mt. Everest. 

And, lately, I'm soaking up all of the interviews George W. Bush - "43" - is giving to support his book, "Decision Points." I've read - and enjoyed - a lot of non-fiction books about the "historical" events which interest me. I think this one will be next on my list.

I have no lid upon my head, but if I did...

I've always enjoyed personality tests. I don't always agree with them, but I enjoy playing with them and analyzing whether or not I deem them to be accurate. 

I have a firm grasp on who I am, at my core...and what makes me tick.

I came across this one while reading my inspiration's blog archives. I think it pegged her pretty well; and I think it's pretty right on for me, too. 

It seems remarkably accurate, especially to have as few questions as it did. These are (supposedly) my top 10 traits out of 90.

I've crossed out the pieces and parts which I thought to be a bit off-base for how I see myself. 

Organized

You like to think a task through before you embark on it. If it's the slightest bit complicated, you make a list (even if it's only in your mind) and methodically work your way through it. When you have a goal in mind, you're not satisfied until you reach it.

You are not one of those people who ignore the details, and you don't understand how anyone can get anything accomplished without thoughtful planning ahead of time.

Aesthetic

You appreciate art, beauty, and design; you know that they are not superficial but absolutely crucial to living the good life. You have good taste, and you're proud of it. Those with a high score on the "aesthetic" trait are often employed in literary or artistic professions, enjoy domestic activities — doing things around the house — and are enthusiastic about the arts, reading, and travel.

You don't think it's pretentious to be moved by art and beauty. You're not one of those who believe it doesn't matter what something looks like as long as it does its job.

Competent

You strive to master everything you undertake. You tend to learn quickly and do not shy away from challenges.

You are not a "que sera sera" type of person, nor do you go easy on yourself when attempting to master a new skill or get a job done.

Intellectual

You are thoughtful, rational, and comfortable in the world of ideas. People find you interesting to talk to. You're the living embodiment of the saying "You learn something new every day." In general, those with a high score on the "intellectual" trait are employed in such fields as teaching and research, and are enthusiastic about reading, foreign films, and classical music.

You do not avoid abstract conversation, experimenting with new ideas, or studying new things. It bores you to stick to the straight and narrow of what you already know.

Assertive

You behave in a confident and forceful manner, take charge of the situation, raise your hand in class, stand up for what you think is right, and lead others. Among those who have a high score on the "assertive" trait, many have jobs in which they are valued for their organizational skills as well as their talent for supervising others.

You are not interested in fading into the woodwork, leaving everything to fate, taking more time than necessary to accomplish a task, or avoiding confrontation.

Accessible

You're comfortable expressing yourself in words and actions, with no self-censorship. You believe that if someone doesn't like what they see it's not your problem, but theirs. A high score on the "accessible" trait suggests that you have a lot of friends, socialize often, and enjoy rap/hip-hop music.

You don't see the need to keep your thoughts to yourself, or to have a zone of privacy that encompasses only yourself and a small circle of friends and relatives.

Warm

You have a genuine interest in other people. You're a natural host, and are always thinking about how you can increase the happiness of those around you. When friends have problems or are in trouble, you're usually the first person they turn to for aid and comfort. Scoring high on the "warm" trait suggests that you are among those who enjoy domestic activities — doing things around the house — and are enthusiastic about charitable work, helping others, and making the world a better place.

You don't always say exactly what you're thinking; you don't like the idea of causing anyone pain because of your criticism.

Understanding

You are willing to take the time to find out what's going on with other people, especially if they're in distress. You're a good listener, you don't criticize, and you offer unbiased, respectful, honest advice when it's requested. With a high score on the "understanding" trait, it is likely that you are enthusiastic about charitable work, helping others, and making the world a better place.

You don't feel the need to impose your standards on others or say things that, even though true, cause pain.

Conscientious

You feel it's important to work according to a plan and finish every task, to do things correctly and thoroughly.

You are not the kind of person who abandons a project before finishing it, or slacks off when you've lost interest.

Astute

You are a quick study. You generally don't need to have things explained to you more than once. When presented with a problem, you will often have an instant understanding of where to look for the solution.

You do not take your sweet time when presented with a new task to complete or problem to solve. You don't avoid assignments that require you to learn new skills.

The only seemingly contradictory points within this analysis are:

• You don't see the need to keep your thoughts to yourself... (Accessible)
• You don't always say exactly what you're thinking; you don't like the idea of causing anyone pain because of your criticism. (Warm)

Strangely enough, I understand how these two statements are both true and both exist within my personality.

Tiptoeing into blogdom

 

I'm starting to think in blogs. But I haven't jumped on the computer with all of these thoughts as they've come to me over the past few days. I've considered a few quotes a rant or two and an inspirational thought. 

But I'm pacing myself.

I know myself well enough to know that I run the risk of getting bored or "over it" if I throw myself at blogging 24/7.

I'm also still sorting through what I want this blog to be. 

Another step I have yet to take is to tell anyone about this new blogging attempt. I'm still wrestling with the idea of whether I'm comfortable with sharing so openly and publicly. 

Only time will tell... 

Elizabeth launches a blog: Take 3

Or is it my fourth attempt? Either way, I have attempted several times to become a blogger. I've always failed miserably. I'm not entirely sure of the reason. Maybe it's because I feel like my ramblings are a bit mundane and uninteresting. Maybe it's because I'm unwilling or uncomfortable to be completely unfiltered in such a public setting.

I'm launching this latest attempt in response to the passing of a friend. When a friend dies (as I've experienced entirely too many times in my short life), I find myself combing the internet for pieces of that person. In some strange way, it's like the internet paper trail keeps a person alive. In my search after her death last week, I stumbled back upon something I used to read, but had drifted away from. See, she was an avid blogger. Now that she is gone, I've found myself engulfed by the pages of her blog. She was so real. So candid. So full of life. I'm sad that she is gone...even sadder at how it happened. But, I've found that it's a nice comfort to relive bits of her life in her own words.

And, thus, I've been inspired (once again) to try.