It runs deep

Home is where the heart is. My heart securely lies in two places. The home I share with Brian and Alex here, and on a large overgrown lot in Belton, TX.
Christmas always brings up the happiest of memories. While I now have many new Christmas traditions with my little family, my favorite Christmas tradition is, was, and always will be driving the 12 or more hours south to Texas. 
It was always the same. We would wait until the night we had our elementary Christmas program. Go home after, open our stockings which usually contained things for our long night ahead. One of my favs was the soundtrack to Footloose on cassette tape. We would load up and hit the road. We drove through the night. Nine times out of 10 I threw up the entire way down and back. Either car sick or flu sick. But, I never remember hating or dreading that trip. I remember how quiet it was. How peaceful as I leaned my forehead on the cool window watching the lights as we sailed our way to the happiest place on earth. We would hit a place in Oklahoma where they had a Christmas Village right along I-35. Christmas lights galore. Then the truck, you knew that you were really on your way when you saw the "upside-down" truck. Once you got past OKC, you waited with bated breath for the Texas State Line. Just over the Red River and you could feel everything shift. Excitement, anxiety and knowing you were in the same state as Grandma and Grandpa.  Fort Worth came, and you looked for the crazy overpasses and bridges that you would have to drive under as you made your way through town. It made me a little uneasy; now it terrifies me.
Further down you start hitting city, after city, after city. Grand view, Waco, and finally there it is. Temple. Home of the first Sonic I ever encountered where Grandpa would let me get the #1 and not the little kid hamburger. Home of the Scott and White Hospital, and the V.A. Hospital where grandma worked. It was home to the two-story carousel in the mall and just a few miles down the road past the Color Tile you found yourself on a curve. As you came across that curve, you could see 'the overpass' that would take you right to grandma and grampa's house.  Out of the car, the first thing you notice is that it smells different than Nebraska and it wasn't as cold. You hopped out, ran up the steps into the little trailer that seemed larger than life. Two weenie dogs, and one Spunky greeting you tails wagging. The tree sat at the back of the house just through the living room, in front of the windows. The days passed with lots of laughter and play. MTV was usually on when Grandma wasn't at work. Diet Pepsi and Milk were the drinks of choice. We could do anything we wanted.
Tic-Tic and Sugar were Grandma and Grandpa.
Grandpa Bill would fill the entire house with his infectious laughter. Grandma would say and do things that always kept us laughing. They called me Nikki-Tic. My mom would always call her parents Mama and Daddy, something I never thought twice of until I grew a bit older. Up here, your parents are mom and dad. Down south, it's mama and daddy, and I love that. Mom, Aunt Claudette & Grandma would take us to the mall to ride the two-story carousel.
It was the most famous attraction in Texas to Cori and I. When I got to be about six or seven, I was allowed to ride on the top all by myself. That's a pretty big moment for a little girl! We would then make our way out of the mall. I always begged Grandma or Aunt Claudette to buy me some Tinkerbell Makeup. I always won. (remember that stuff?) 
Sometimes goofy Aunt Philomene was there. She was in many ways like my grandma in looks but slightly goofier. She took out her teeth, made crazy faces and introduced us to the classic song "Elvira" Sometimes Aunt Claudette was there.
She gave me my very first Caboodle with makeup, and a burned CD full of classics, like "You took the words right out of my mouth" By Meatloaf. Awesome.
Christmas morning was magical in every. Single. way. 
There were gifts EVERYWHERE. For some reason, Santa was always much more generous when we were in Texas. I was convinced that Texas must have their own Santa that liked us better than Nebraska Santa. Now that I think about it, how in the world did our parents get all of those toys, our stuff, and us girls back to Nebraska in one car?
One year stands out for me. I got a Nurse Barbie. I wanted to be a nurse just like grandma. And I got a Matchbox car garage.  It was all just so good. I barely remember anything else we did while there or the drive home. But, I remember the smell, Grandpa's voice and laugh, the smell of the house, Grandma's goofiness and being in almost a euphoric state of happiness. 
My happiest Christmas memories live there. Grandpa passed away the summer before my 15th birthday. Alex and Lucy both have some of his mannerisms. Whether it be the way Alex points, sits with his legs crossed or talks or the way Lucy stands with her hands on her back, it still brings a smile and comfort to mom, Cori, and I. When I found out Alex was a boy I wanted him to be named after Grandpa Alexander.
Grandma moved to Minnesota. If I ever had a girl, I think I would include Grandma Charlotte's name. I get to see her every year, or at least every other year. Alex loves to go and see her. I know his memories of the drive, the beautiful Minnesota lakes, and Grandma's goofy laugh and grin will be something he treasures. I miss them both terribly.
Sometimes Uncle Danny and Aunt Karla would make their long drive from Lamesa, TX to join in the fun. Those days were the best of the best. This meant, my cousins would join the fun. 
Now as an adult I long for those days. I long for the car trip, the laughter and most of all my grandpa. I feel like Christmas now,  just isn't as special. My grandparents moved to Nebraska when I was about ten years old. The trips slowed down, then trickled off. No more excitement in seeing that "Welcome To Texas, The Lone Star State." But, grandma and grandpa were closer, and this made me happier. No long and very tearful goodbyes. And, while I didn't spend every single Christmas of my childhood in the trailer house in Belton, the years I did were the very best.
Alex gets to travel on Christmas, but it's between houses for a total of maybe 80 miles. When I think of the magic, I had of traveling through the night like we were sneaking out of Nebraska, and how much I treasure those memories, I feel like Alex is missing out. I know his Christmas memories will be magical for him in their own way, but sometimes I feel like my memories are just so wonderful, I could never top anything like that for him. I will keep trying, and one year very soon I will take him to Texas for Christmas. Driving through the night, watching the lights, and listening to Christmas music. 
Every Christmas my heart is in Texas, and I think it always will be.

Joplin, six months later.

Five months ago, my husband Brian and I traveled to Joplin, Mo., to help clean up after the disastrous tornado that had hit the weekend before. What we ended up having was a life-changing experience. I documented that weekend and decided to share it with others. I had so many kind words that when Brian and I decided to travel back, I wanted to share our experience again.
In late August I received an email from the television show, Extreme Home Makeover, saying they were offering over 10,000 people the chance to return to Joplin for a special rebuilding project.  We discussed it and decided it would be a great opportunity to return and come “full circle.” A few weeks later we left for a vacation to Delaware. During this trip, Brian was involved in an accident that left him almost totally immobile for a few weeks. Brian is still struggling with the use of his hands, numbness, weakness, and fatigue. I had put the Joplin trip out of my mind when two weeks ago I received an email saying we were confirmed for a six-hour shift on Friday, Oct. 21. I mentioned it to Brian and said there was no way I was going to drag him down there and miss more work. He was hesitant but said the decision was mine. It weighed on me heavily. Our community has helped our family in so many ways since Brian’s accident and here I was being given a chance to pay it forward. Brian admitted he wanted to participate the best he could. This would be a once in a lifetime chance to help rebuild a community. I talked to my boss who also said it would be crazy to miss out on such a rare opportunity and encouraged me to go.
As the day got closer, I started to get very nervous. The last time we were in Joplin, the smells and sights haunted me for weeks. I had many sleepless nights when we returned home, and I didn’t want to witness that kind of destruction ever again. Reservations aside, we packed up our boots and gloves to make the five-hour drive to Joplin. Our check-in time was 1 p.m., and we didn’t know what kind of chaos awaited us, so we left early. This time the drive was familiar and less hectic. We found our parking lot north of the destroyed St. John’s Hospital. We loaded up a small bag, threw on sweatshirts and started our walk through glass, rocks, and nails. We made it to the destroyed Cunningham Park where we saw over 200 volunteers cleaning and rebuilding. A woman stopped us to let us know that we couldn’t bring any bags, cameras, or phones in the area. We walked back to the car to find I had left my driver’s side door wide open. I realized maybe I was a bit more nervous and excited than I had thought. We returned to the area and found our check-in tent. We were issued television release forms indicating they could use any footage of us for the show, and if we were injured we couldn’t sue.
We signed all necessary paperwork and were told to put on the Extreme Home Makeover shirt over our clothes and a construction hat and wait out front. While waiting, we were encouraged to write a special message on some of the wood being used in the houses. A few minutes later a golf cart pulled up, and we were told we could start our shift early. At 12:30 p.m., we were dropped in the middle of the construction site. 
The plan is to build seven homes, for seven families, in seven days. This was organized chaos involving thousands of people.  I was ready to start putting up walls, paint and get my hands dirty. Before I knew it, about 100 of us were ushered into a tent to shoot a segment. I’m scared of public speaking yet was ushered to a table and given instruction on how to behave on camera and how to act when show host Ty Pennington got there. After a 10-minute wait, I asked the producers of the show what we could do to help them out. Brian, myself and another woman from Springfield MO, were given instructions to place white tape on boxes to cover any product names or information. We finished; proud we had gotten to finally do something. Soon after we were told to find trash bags, water bottles or anything to place in the boxes. We went through trash bins and dug under tables to find what we're told to get. We placed them in the boxes. Then came the yarn. Bags and bags of yarn. Color coordinate the yarn, cover the brand name and place them very neatly in the boxes on top of the trash. Simple enough, well, maybe not.
“No, stack them better.”
“Turn that label.”
“Red here.”
“Blue over there.”
“Make it look nicer!”
An hour later I was hot, Brian was starting to hurt from standing in one place not moving, and I was ready to get out of this crowded tent! When I was about to head out, they pulled me aside and asked me to cut an orange piece of string three feet long. My job was to smile and hand it to Ty when they cued me. I offered the task to the girl next to me, and she sweetly told me I could handle it. She was in a segment earlier in the day that had taken four hours, and it would be fun for me.

We were given instructions on how to smile, act interested, and get pumped up.
“Do not talk to Ty, and do not ask for an autograph” one of the producers yelled. 
Take one, Ty gives an inspirational speech and introduces the “surprise” hidden under a tarp.
“Cut!” yelled one of the producers.
“That was great; now let's do it again in a wider shot.”
Take two; Ty gives an inspirational speech and adds to his previous statement.
“Cut!” yelled producer number two.
“Great, Perfect! Now let’s do it again even better!”
Take three; Ty gives a speech, messes up.
Take four, Ty gives a speech and is about to reveal the gift and “Cut!”
A producer runs over to me and explains my task again.
“Walk up, hand Ty the orange yarn, make sure it isn’t tangled, always be smiling, act very interested in what is being said.”
I sheepishly said okay. My hands were shaking. I hadn’t eaten since 6 a.m. It was now 2:30 p.m. I was nervous. I don’t want to mess up, and have these people stay for another dozen takes; I don’t want to be on TV. I want to go hammer things.
The older lady next to me very rudely said, “I want to do it, I love Ty. Give me that yarn!” When she proceeded to try the yarn from me, I decided I wanted to do it.  “Oh no, that is okay I can handle it,” I said smiling.
Now, Ty reveals the surprise, walks over, I give him the yarn, he has trouble with the yarn, “Cut!”
Take 15? “Ty needs scissors. Hand them to him, smile and walk out of frame.” I give him scissors.
Take 22? “Now Ty needs his hammer, walk over to him, hand it to him looking very interested, and back up out of frame.”
I hand him his hammer.
“Nope, we need to redo it, and maybe one more time for good measure” a producer yelled followed by “then let’s do a wide shot.”
“Now let’s do a shot with a Joplin resident crying!”
By this point I was pleased, we were witnessing something so awesome. Even better, Brian had not been asked to lift anything but, I was getting claustrophobic and wanting out. The woman next to me said I was lucky that Ty touched my hand. I started to worry that not all volunteers were here to work, which was confirmed later on. We were given our next task. This time, it was going to be filmed with a time-lapse camera. Thank goodness! This would go faster. I was starting my task when a cameraman walked up and asked to tape me.
Fine. I will get this in one take and build a house I said out loud to myself.
I finished in one take and waited for Brian to finish his. A producer asked where we came from and we proudly mentioned we were from Nebraska while a woman cut in front of us and mentioned she came all the way from the Bahamas to help out. Everyone was impressed but Brian, who had talked to her earlier and found out she, was in school in Missouri but was born in the Bahamas. She was escorted to the VIP section to meet the designers.
Three and a half hours after we arrived we were finally given clearance to get a housing assignment. We were directed to house number five to do some cleanup. I was filled with adrenaline and ready to go. House number five was the future home of a single mother who lost two of her three children in the tornado. We worked in the garage clearing sheetrock and bags of concrete. Each garage will feature a crawl space for protection during future tornadoes.  Brian explained his situation and was given the task to clear the small stuff and rest when needed. Time flew as we carried sheetrock and siding to a trash bin in the alley. It was day three of the seven-day project, and the houses were already up. No hammering, no group wall raising, just clean up for phase two which was painting and flooring set to begin later that night. I was still happy to help in any way I could. At 6:30 p.m. we were told a new group was coming in and we were free to go. We could stay if we wanted but, due to the high volume of volunteers, there would not be much more work for us. We walked back to the hospital and found our car. Brian mapped our route to the house we helped clean up five months ago while I munched on some caramel popcorn.
Five minutes later we pulled into the horseshoe driveway amazed at what was there. The house I leaned up against to take breaks was gone. The wall Brian rested on had disappeared. The tree I hung my bag on to work was gone, the trash, everything was gone. We could see clear over to shell of Joplin High School, and back over to the newly built Home Depot. All that was left around us was foundations of all the homes that had once been there. In my hopeful mind, I had prayed for the family we helped would already have their home in the process of being rebuilt. Instead, the rose bush I had scratched myself on a dozen times five months ago was the only living thing for blocks. We took some photos and walked around for a bit before we headed to the parking lot of Ignite Church. This was the site of the Extreme Home Makeover spectator parking lot.
A bus would load us, and others to go to a designated area to watch the build.  We got on the bus and sat in front of a family from Joplin. I had heard the two small girls talking about how they wanted to see Ty.  I offered them my phone to see some photos Brian had taken. Their father thanked us for helping, saying he prayed for volunteers like us every night. He described May 22nd to us from his point of view. Their family was safely at home that night two miles away from the hospital where their daughters were born. After the tornado had hit, he drove down to “ground zero” because friends of his were in a theater that night in the worst-hit area. He managed to save his friends, but sadly some of the people in the theater had passed away. He wanted us to know that behind the scenes Joplin is struggling. In the last week, Joplin experienced more than nine suicides. The divorce rate is at an all-time high, and both of these numbers are expected to peak next November. He said there are so many residents who cannot take what happened. Some give up, and some will drive clear around town, some 30 minutes around “ground zero” as to not see the destruction.
“The town is struggling, and emotions are still very high,” he said.
He asked what our tie to Joplin was, and we explained we hadn’t had one when we came down but now we are bound to this community forever. They hugged us and thanked us as we pulled up to the construction site. We got off the bus and walked up a dirt path to see the houses from a bit further away. They were beautiful and all seven unique in style. As we were taking photos, a woman walked up to us and said she was on the bus and heard our story. She grabbed my shoulder and explained that the exact spot we were standing was where her house stood. Her name was Hope. She was the sweetest lady, who told us about her experience on May 22nd. Hope, her sister Marilyn, and her niece rode out the storm in the bathtub. As she wept, Brian and I choked back our tears. She was so thankful for the volunteers and asked our names so she could pray for us. I thanked her for being so kind, she asked for some photos with us, and we said our goodbyes. Brian and I walked away choked up from hearing her story and seeing the terror on her face as she relived it.
At about 7:30 p.m. we decided we were starving and tired. We took the shuttle back to our car and went to our hotel. We were still in our Extreme Home Makeover shirts and were asked by the clerk how the build was going. I found it surprising how many Joplin residents wanted to share their stories with us. He told us how he was working that night and the TV kept going out, yet he didn’t know what was going on blocks away. As we walked to our room, we both could not believe that he didn’t know the tornado was cutting a line through this town just blocks from the hotel door. We ventured out for some pizza and drove down South Rangeline Road. A block into our drive the street went dark. It was like driving from city to country. We drove through the pitch-black area and came out near the new Home Depot where the lights and city life reappeared. It was so eerie to see. We noticed a haunted house set up down the street, and I remember thinking about how that didn’t seem normal yet. But, Joplin was moving on, getting back to normal. It didn’t seem normal to us, but for them, this was the new normal.
The next morning on our way out of town we passed the bank where we were shuttled to five months ago. We had passed this bank a dozen times in the last 24 hours not realizing this was the spot we had been dropped off. Next to it was a new strip mall. They had rebuilt so much there in five months that we didn’t recognize it. The biggest sign of progress yet.
Joplin is rebuilding the best they can. The people were inspiring and welcoming to us. I cannot wait to visit again to see the progress of a town that now holds such a special place in our hearts. We along with tens of thousands of other volunteers feel bonded to this city and its residents and hope for nothing but strength and progress for many years to come.

Delaware/DC/Maryland the accident.

Delaware Day 2.
We woke up around 10 a.m., and I was dying to get some Ocean time. We went downstairs for breakfast. I decided to play it fast and loose and yet again enjoy some of the local food you just don't get at home. This ended up being Scrapple.
Traditionally a mush of pork scraps and trimmings combined with cornmeal and flour, and spices. The mush is formed into a semi-solid congealed loaf, and slices of the scrapple are then pan-fried before serving. Scraps of meat leftover from butchering, not used or sold elsewhere, were made into scrapple to avoid waste. 
B. did warn me but, I didn't think it would be that bad. It's mushy and does not taste like chicken. It tastes like a sad pig's face. Not great. I had some Mimosa's to help that mess go down. Then it was off to the water. It was 9/11/11
So you have made it through our entire trip. Here is where it gets bad. 
Brian and I grabbed our boards and went out. For a good 20 min.'s we nearly mastered the art of bodyboarding. If you caught the wave just right and leaned into it, you would go from waist-deep water to the edge of the sand riding a wave. Fun no?
I started for the beach to sit down because the smoker in me was about to die when I turned and looked at Brian. He was facing me, and a wave hit him knocking him down. I didn't think anything of it. I had been knocked down twice, and while it was scary, I was fine. I watched and noticed he didn't pop right back up as he had been. Then I saw him face down. I thought for a moment he was just messing with me. (sick joke, but we are sick people) I started out toward him and realized this was no joke. Getting out to him is blank for me. I saw him; I remember flipping him over and seeing his face covered in blood, he was choking on it. I couldn't touch where we were. The undertow had taken him out where It was deeper. I don't know how I got him in without us both not drowning. I remember screaming. We were not alone. We had people all around us. Nobody came to help. I screamed staring at B & W who were napping; finally, B. heard me and came running out. He helped me get Brian the rest of the way in. I got to about waist deep and couldn't pull him anymore. He told me he couldn't feel anything and he was paralyzed. 
The waves kept coming and going onto his face; he was choking on the water until B. came to help me. We got him to the sand, and finally, the lifeguards came running. Someone finally walked up and called 911. They didn't do a lot with him. I know I didn't hear a thing going on around me. Brian didn't talk. I just sat over him and shielded the sun from his eyes. Finally, someone told me I needed to get back.  I finally really lost it. Thank God for B. who kept me on my feet and calmed me down. The ambulance showed up, and They loaded Brian on a backboard with a neck brace and onto a John Deere Gator type vehicle that drove us up to the waiting ambulance. 
As we rode up, I just looked straight ahead. I remembered thinking if he were paralyzed, he would give up. Brian said he wouldn't want to live if that had happened to him. Some woman with a big camera came up to the front of us and took a photo. That pissed me off. 
We made it to the ambulance. They wouldn't let me in the back. I had to ride in front. It was the longest drive of my life. She wouldn't let me get up to look in the tiny hole to see in back, so I used my phone and reached up and took photos to see what they were doing to him. (I had grabbed my towel and phone while they loaded him on the gator.) We drove to Lewes, Delaware. There was no siren, no hurry. This was my life, his life, our lives, where was the urgency? Brian was terrified, and bleeding from somewhere. I didn't know where, so I was scared. 
We got to the hospital, Both of us in our bathing suits full of sand.  They took his BP, asked him questions. I filled out the necessary paperwork, and we tried to explain what exactly had happened the best we could. I asked Brian if I should call anyone and he gave me a firm no. Why scare anyone until we know what is happening.
I needed help; I sent an SOS to my sister, brother-in-law, and mom. I needed some reassurance and prayers. They delivered. Brian moved his feet and arms. 
We weren't there long when B & W showed up. They had gathered our stuff and had taken it to our room. In all honesty, the rest is a blur of W calling Brian's mom because I couldn't bring myself to, some talking and lots of tests. They took blood, ran an IV, CT Scan, MRI, etc. I couldn't even tell you how long we were there before we got some answers. Maybe 5 hours? His spinal cord was bruised. The strength in which he hit the sand had jarred his Spinal Cord very hard, and it was swollen. His cheek/eye socket was broken, and his nose was broken in two places. B & W brought me some clothes, so I went to change and cry. I dumped about 10 lbs of sand out of my suit and got some clothes on. I noticed I had Brian's blood all on my suit and my towel. When I got back to the room Brian was laying flat, his pulse dropped, he was white, and his BP dropped. ! It happened a few times; they told us his body was in shock. We found out this is common with a spinal injury. B helped Brian out, talking, and joking. We have used a lot of humor to get through this mess.
 B and W stayed the entire time. B went outside with me a few times while I smoked, so I had company, I called Brian's brother and sister to explain the situation.  I couldn't get a hold of his parents, so I went back in.
One time when I stepped outside to have a breakdown I passed a girl about my age in a wheelchair waiting on the curb. She asked if I was with that guy who got hurt at Rehoboth Beach. I said yes. She asked how he was, I told her. She then told me she had gone into the water after our ordeal and broken her legs.
W. went outside with me a few times, to keep me sane and I called my mom and brother-in-law. I lost it. When I got back, Brian could move his hands and offered this photo to send his brother to make him feel a bit better.
The hospital staff told us there were 108 water rescues and two deaths the day before. Maybe the beach should have been closed. Maybe we should have been told to enter at our own risk. Maybe we should have had common sense. I don't know.  
B & W made sure he was okay before they took me to the hotel to shower and change. I hated leaving, I was green and tried my hardest not to throw up.  They talked to me, made me feel better and helped me get my stuff together to get back to the hospital. While I showered, B went and got us food for the hospital.  I walked out onto the balcony to get one last look at the ocean. The moon was coming up, and it was beautiful. How could something I love so much be such an asshole?
I got some stuff, and we headed back. By then they had moved him upstairs. He was not in his room, yet, but they were making him walk into the room and We watched around the corner. It was about the most amazing thing I have ever seen! We got in there, and he was looking much better. A little swollen but, better than he should have given what we just went through. He couldn't get up to use the bathroom due to everything he was hooked up to so I had to help him. He was still numb in the hands, but they moved. B & W hung out joked, and we talked about skunky, and how well the trip had been up to today. I didn't ask if I could stay, I assumed I could. The nurse told me they didn't allow people to stay but since it was our anniversary, I could tonight. B&W went out and got Brian some Rolos, me some saltines (because I was still sick) and some other snacks. They also brought in our sandwiches and said they were headed to the hotel. They would pack us up and hope he got released the next day.  Brian and I had our anniversary dinner. He had Rolo's &  his Turkey Sub, and I had my amazing Ham Sandwich and saltines.
At about 11 Brian said he was tired and needed to try to sleep. I sat in my chair with a sheet and tried to sleep but, there was to much running through my head. I found my favorite guilty pleasure on TV (New Jersey Housewives), and I was set.
After a night of no sleep and puking up saltwater, I got up at 6:30 am with a sore throat. I walked a few blocks to the Rite Aide Pharmacy and found, it didn't open till 8. So I stood in the parking lot watching people. It was Monday morning; kids were walking to school, old folks had their puppies out. It was a beautiful day. Finally, eight a.m came, and I got in, got my cold medicine, some snow globes for the nieces and a sweet "don't bother me, I'm crabby" coozie. That was my Delaware souvenir shopping trip.
I walked back to the hospital, and we waited for the Ortho Doc. to tell us what the plan was. He told us, Brian could leave the hospital but not fly yet. He had to have steroids to get the swelling in his spinal cord to go down, and pneumonia shot so he didn't get sick from any water he may have in his lungs. We were thrilled he got to leave the hospital but, sad we had to change our plane tickets and B & W's plans.
B & W got back, and Brian was quickly discharged. We discussed whether we should stay in Delaware or try to get back to DC to B's parents house. They had an elevator so Brian could get up to our room with no problems.
We had a three-hour drive ahead. We stopped at Walgreen's and got Brian's med's, drinks and B. got more sandwiches.
We slowly drove back to DC. We stopped once so Brian could use the restroom. I got myself an ice cream cone, and we were off again. 
Luckily we were getting into D.C. while everyone else was getting off work and trying to leave. I enjoyed this drive back! I had some Valium in me on the way out, on the way back I was seeing everything for the first time. Here is your anti-drug PSA. Want to remember your vacation? Do not take a Valium.
We made it back to B's parent's house. I don't remember too much because I was so tired everything was starting to blur. We got Brian in the elevator and up to our room. We laid down and next thing I know a few hours later, I could hear laughter and smell food.
I bet you're starting to think the moral of this story is "Food is great" maybe it is.  Brian and I made it downstairs to see my Soul Sister, L. (B's sister) and her husband,  B., W. and B's parents sitting eating and watching football. The chicken, oh lord the chicken. It was the most amazing chicken I have ever had. And the sauce, the delicious sauce. I wanted to shower, shave, and live in that sauce. It was incredible. We sat and listened to B's mom and sister read some of his old camp letters. It was exactly what I needed. We laughed, ate and felt at home. There was no, "What happened" It was just a hug, and them saying they were sorry this happened. Thank God for that. Brian didn't want to talk about it yet. They were all so kind. 
We finished eating and were still wiped out. We said goodbye and headed upstairs. We were out for most of the night. At this point, Brian was still in a ton of pain, so we were up a lot but, still more comfortable than that hospital. The next day, we got up, and B. took me to get my Bagel with Lox and Black and white cookie.
I was in, food heaven! Brian rested all day on the couch. He still didn't have any feeling in his hands, and his eyes were bothering him. He had his contacts in and sand had gotten under them and scratched up his eyes. So he rested with his "money shades" he had bought in DC at the money place because he forgot his sunglasses.
While we all just hung out and chatted most of the day. I wanted to do something for B.'s parents for letting us stay there, so W & I walked down to a local store and bought some purple flowers and a card. Brian's wrists were also in a lot of pain, so B & W went and bought him some wrist guards. They have been a blessing. He sprang both wrists when he put his hands out to stop himself.  (We didn't know that until we got home) That has been the most painful thing so far.
That night we had our flight scheduled. We said our goodbyes, took a group photo (since we hadn't got one yet, and I insisted!) and headed to the airport. We left a bit early so we could beat the traffic. We made it in great time and got Brian a wheelchair, so he didn't have to walk. He could but, his strength was meager due to the injury.
We went through security. I "randomly" got selected to stand in the clear glass box with air holes. It was slightly embarrassing. A large security guard came over and gave me the third degree about the snow globes. He had to confiscate them because there was no way of telling what kind of fluid was in them. That was sad for me but, fine as well. Whatever they are doing to keep us safe is working, and I will not argue for one second about them taking them away.
We sat at the Samuel Adams Bar and had a drink and some food. I had a delightful BLT. It was ok, after all the food I had on this trip, the airport BLT failed to impress. I did some shopping at the airport. I had to get some DC stuff! We had missed all the tours we had set up for Monday, so I didn't get much. So, I bought Hats, Sweatshirts, a bobblehead. You know things you NEED in life.  We had some laughs, Brian stood up for some reason, and W. yelled "It's a miracle, he can walk" to which the bartender at the Sam Adams Bar yelled, "Hallelujah! It's a miracle, Praise Jesus!" 
We got Executive boarding and prepared for take-off. I was sad to leave but, ready to get home. We planned on getting to B & W's around midnight and staying there because traveling was rough on Brian. 
I got to see the Capitol, Washington Monument, all kinds of amazing stuff during taking off. It was a very quick flight. I let Brian take my phone and watch "My Boys" I read "Bossypants" by Tina Fey. I highly recommend it. Before we knew it, we were ready to land. We were half an hour ahead of schedule. We got off the plane in no time, got our vehicle, and got to B & W's in record time. The next morning Brian was ready to get home to his own bed. We said goodbye and hit the road. We stopped at Target to get some TP, food, etc. I left Brian in the car because he was tired. I grabbed him some water and went in. I came back out to a very thirsty Brian waiting for me to open his water. I had apparently forgotten how bad it was. We stopped in Auburn to see my mom and let Brian use the restroom.
We were in the door for about 20 minutes when W's mom came by with dinner. A pot roast. It was well needed. 
It was like taking care of a newborn. I was up at night with him, when he was thirsty, when he had to go to the bathroom, and when he took naps during the day, I didn't heed the advice of sleep when he sleeps. I decided to clean the house, do the dishes, run errands around town, do laundry and try to forget what was happening in my home.
Physically today, almost three weeks after the accident Brian has full feeling in two of his fingers. He can feed himself, use the bathroom, and just started trying to walk the dogs. I'm fighting him on that. He just wants to get out of the house. He is going to work for about two hours a day just to sit and talk. He is lonely. I'm exhausted. Trying to keep everyone fed, clean and comfortable is hard. I haven't slept through the night since it happened and I have nightmares. Brian just started talking about it. He's had a hard time. He said he pretty much-made peace with God and thought he would die. 
Last weekend we had a scare with my 19-month-old niece. She was sent to the hospital due to a large infection.  This piled more of an emotional and physically draining toll for us both.  Now she is working on getting well, and she is happy. She and I have a special bond. I'm not sure what it is but, we understand each other. lol. It sounds funny, but it's true. Please say a prayer on a speedy recovery for her as well and strength for her amazing mommy and daddy. 

DC/Delaware/Maryland pre accident

For those of you who I know, you are more aware of what is happening in my life than those of you who I do not personally know. We have had a lot of people ask "What the hell happened?" I thought it might be good for me to write it. Get it out. It's taken me four days, a few edits, a stomach ache, and lots of tears from both Brian and me to write down what happened.
Well, this is our story.
My husband and I were invited to join some of our closest friends on a trip to D.C. and Delaware. We were beyond thrilled. I have always wanted to visit D.C. because of my love of history, politics, and travel. We jumped at the chance, and before we knew it, we were at the airport headed out. I hate to fly. I will do it but, it is not my favorite thing. I get highly motion sick, and I'm terrified. I always explain it to my husband like this.
How does it stay in the air? How? You have this billion-pound plane filled people, possibly one or two horrible people who laughed at a blind man eating spaghetti or something worse and now they deserve to be taken down...who knows!
I get my behind the ear patch, Valium and pray. That was all fine and good until the Steward (right? a male stewardess?)  asked five people to move to the back of the plane because it needed to be balanced out, and we were pretty empty. WTF? This plane runs on the balance of its passengers. If we were not heavy enough would the plane tip forward once we got in the air? Not cool Stove, Not Cool. So, our friends B & W, Brian and I all moved to the back. By this time, I was on cloud nine. They could have asked me to sit in the crapper the entire time, and I would have been fine.
I did very well. It was the best flight I have ever had. Everyone was laughing, smiling and thrilled to be headed to our nation's beautiful capital.  Wait that may all have just been in my head. Well, in my drug-addled mind it was a great flight. 
Until we started our descent into DC. It was pouring down rain like it had been the last two weeks due to Tropical Storms, and one angry Hurricane. It was a bumpy landing, and I was happy to be on the ground. Surely the worst part of the trip was over. 
We got off the plane, got to the rental car place and we were off. I was so overly excited I'm sure I made our friend B (who grew up there) very annoyed! Everything was; It's so beautiful, hey guys did you see this? Oh my God, its Washington Monument. As we started across the Arlington Memorial Bridge,  I nearly jumped out of my skin the drive is beautiful, and your first sight is the Lincoln Monument. I would live in that sight forever. 
We drove right on into the heart of DC and started our whirlwind tour off with The Holocaust Museum.  If you get to DC, this is a must. It was very heart wrenching but, eye-opening as well. 
We finished with a light lunch in the Museum Cafe.  I tried my first Knish. Meh. I was not overly impressed though Brian was. I did happen to have a love affair with fancy grilled cheese and a slice of cheesecake though! From here we stepped outside, and it was a wall of heat and humidity. At least we were done with the rain. 
We strolled back to our Executive Parking place in front of the Treasury building and got prepared for our next stop. The Bureau of Engraving and Printing. We went through and learned how money is printed. It's quite the process, and in all honesty, I learn quite a bit. And got big Al some shredded money which he loved!
We traveled to National Cemetery. Amazing, and all I wanted to see was all the Kennedy's. It was worth the 3-mile walk with 800% humidity. 
Then we headed to Maryland, our travel buddy's parents' home. They were as always very welcoming and sweet to us. And I fell in love with sitting out on one of the balconies with a great local beer. 
We then decided to head out to a nice dinner.
Tower Oaks Lodge. I finally had my first Crab Cake. I mean I've had casino crab cakes, homemade crab cakes, but, this was my first. The way God had intended. Also, Corn Chesapeake, whatever it was, it was a party in my mouth. The finale, oh how fantastic. Creme Brulee with a freaking Chocolate Chip Cookie on top. I thought fondly of my sister and how sad I was she would not get to see God's little miracle on my plate. Amazing. Just amazing. This was when I realized; I belong here. The day I was born, and angel whispered into my ear, go child, live in Maryland. Eat yourself stupid, be happy, This is where you were supposed to be. And I honestly believe it.
(ETA: six years later and this is still the greatest meal I've ever had.) I haven't even gotten to the best part. The FRESH BLUEBERRY MOJITO. Holy crap. This was the best drink I have ever had. I will go back to Maryland for this drink alone. No, seriously I will. 
After eating, we decided to drive back to D.C. to see the monuments all lit up. I felt bad for B. who at this point had been running on about four hours of sleep, and who had to drive us there, but my adrenaline was pumping. I was so excited and thrilled. This was about 10:30. We stopped and grabbed my camera, and we were off. We drove back into town. We went to the Washington Monument, The White House, which was dark. It was odd to see it that way. My photos didn't turn out great because I didn't have my tripod and I had a hard time balancing my camera on the wall out front without touching the fence...I was in fear I would get yelled at or see a small red dot on my forehead. But, what did I expect it was 11:00 P.M. on 9/10/11. Duh. So, we stood there for a bit but, gave up to see the Capital. If I thought it was unbelievable during the day, at night it was breathtakingly beautiful. I mean, wow. It was my super super super favorite thing, in my super favorite place with my super favorite people. I was busting. We got to the East side, walked over a fence that had been knocked down and Brian, and I just stood in front of it for about thirty minutes. I literally can not explain the happiness and excitement I had. 
We were all alone, besides two security men who stood by the door. We were in heaven. I know I said wow a thousand times and told Brian I couldn't believe that we were there alone! Well, Here is why.
We went to leave and noticed we had gotten barricaded in the area we parked. We didn't know why, well besides the obvious. Anyway, there was some fear of car bombs (that is what B's parents said they heard on the news) but, we made it out. They were not fully done barricading the other side, so we got out. We just drove out, and they didn't stop us or ask questions. 
We made it back to B's parents through dense fog and little sleep. 
The next morning we got up a little late and headed off to a deli for a quick lunch before we drove to the beach.
Note it was breakfast and I really shouldn't have ordered I had a Triple Decker of corned beef, pastrami, Cole-slaw, Russian dressing on rye. I really shouldn't have ordered it before a 3-hour drive to Delaware.  Bye B's Parents, thanks for letting us stay at your place, see you soon. (Cut to 3 minutes later) Us pulling into their driveway so I can use the restroom. TMI? Well, it's part of the story, it's my life. 
Cut to Crazy five-lane traffic going through Annapolis, MD doing 80. "If we get to a place and I use the restroom!"
We made it to Delaware with our friends, in just enough time to check out our sweet digs and head out to a few boardwalk bars to see which would be best to catch our team's football game that night. We finally found The Green Turtle.
It was a good time; There was a ton of Bacardi and Diet's ingested as well as not a lot of food. This made for an interesting night. About half time W. and I left to walk the boardwalk and visit a gallery I wanted to hit up. I bought myself a beautiful painting and W. bought her doggie a Washington Redskins Jersey. 
Me "Is B with you."
Brian "No, he went to the bathroom like 10 minutes ago, and I haven't seen him since."
Okay, he is not at the bar, let's go to the other Thrashers (fries). 
We found B. at 10:30 at night on the boardwalk, sitting on a bench with a giant cup of Thrashers Fries yelling. 
B. is having a glorious conversation with a real live skunk. Yes, a skunk sitting on the dune behind him being hand-fed Thrashers Fries, while Barry explains the secret of how they are so delicious. 
B. "You ask them to fry them three times!!!"
The skunk "really" (I'm sure this is what B. heard) 
B. "Yep, they are delicious!"
Also, when you picture this scene, imagine a father and daughter staring in horror. People have circled around with looks of, WTF is going on here? I went off to find Brian, who had made friends who were also fans of our team and was watching the end of the game. 
We finished the game, and B & W went off to bed and Brian, and I went in search of food. I had already stuffed myself full of Thrasher's fries, so we went to a pizza place on the boardwalk. Shit Pizza was the name of the place, okay, I guess it wasn't, but that is what it tasted like. I was not impressed, so I had half of one piece while a pretty intoxicated Brian had the rest of the pizza. We sat on a bench by the beach, at 11:30 p.m. eating. It was great. 

Running wild, chasing fireflies.

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime.
It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”
When was the last time you used a skateboard ramp as a slide, ran so fast a camera couldn't focus on you and chased fireflies barefoot in the grass?
 I did all of these tonight. I spent the night with My niece, Rylee. We went to the park, the actual slide, the swings, the merry-go-round was not fun for her. Sure she enjoyed it but, the skateboard area was the main attraction. We slid down the ramps and ran like wild barefoot. She climbed the ramp by herself and yelled: "I did it!!" And clapped for herself giggling. It was pretty much adorable. I had never gone over there before with Alex. I'm sad now that I hadn't. We had a blast over there.
When Rylee's mom came to pick her up, all three of the girls and Alex started running with Jackson and chasing lightning bugs. Rylee kept yelling, one! one! one! When she saw one. Emma collected over 13 of them, and Madison just ran wild.
I suggest next time your out on a beautiful summer night, run barefoot in the grass, catch fireflies and laugh.

The Joplin tornado

Very few experiences in my life have left me speechless the moment my son was born, witnessing my nieces birth and now seeing the devastation in Joplin, MO. Thousands of volunteers spent their holiday weekend helping those affected by the recent F5 tornado while witnessing the strength and the indomitable will of its residents.

May 22, 2011 while driving back from New Braunfels, Texas, my family and I heard that a tornado had hit Joplin. We had watched the storms build to our east most of the afternoon, but hadn't known their strength until the moment we heard the desperation in the voice on the radio asking for help from anyone who could hear him.

Over the next few days, we watched the horror unfold in Joplin. Many Falls City residents pulled together to help to raise money and set up donation sites. Volunteers were banning together to make the five-hour drive to search for survivors or clean up debris. My husband, Brian and I had discussed volunteering for the impossible task and the more we discussed it, the more we felt compelled to make the trip.

Friday night we packed as many donations as we could fit into our car from Robin Cooper’s donation drive. We pulled out of town at 5:30 a.m. Saturday morning and made record time. Everyone was trying to get into Joplin to help; the traffic was incredible for this part of the country. We were about three hours outside of Joplin when we picked up a radio station that was all survivors calling in searching for missing loved ones, missing dogs, cats, photos, wedding rings, and other irreplaceable items. It was impossible to hear, but we couldn’t shut it off. I began to wonder if I had prepared myself for what we were about to experience.

The moment we pulled into the city limits of Joplin my hands started to tremble. The traffic was bumper to bumper in this small Missouri town. Sirens rang out from every direction; volunteer tents were set up on every corner. Each car we saw had a different state's license plate. Piles of water bottles lined each street like little homes. It looked like a war zone before the war. There was so much preparation but no damage. North Joplin looked like any other busy city in America, but with the National Guard, thousands of volunteers and supplies on every open patch of concrete and grass.

Cell service was down, so we stopped at the Ignite Church and dropped off our carload of donations collected from Falls City and the surrounding communities. We stopped at the gas station next door to get something to dring and overheard a conversation between the clerk and another woman. They were discussing her friend and co-worker from that same gas station who was still missing. My heart started to beat faster.

We arrived at Missouri Southern State University and were amazed at how organized everything

was only a few days after the tornado had hit. We signed our waivers, received our instructions and within a few minutes we were given a few cases of bottled water, respirators, gloves, medical supplies, and shown to a school bus with 40 other people. We boarded the humid bus in the 95 degree May heat. The bus was relatively quiet; a few people chatted until the bus driver asked all of us if we had been to ‘ground zero’ yet. We all looked around at each other and said no. The driver slowed way down as we topped a hill, turned to look at all of us and asked us to prepare ourselves. The hill had a railroad crossing and homes on each side with lush, full trees. It was shady, and then it wasn’t. Forty people gasped at once and went pale. My eyes filled with tears and others began to sob.

It looked like a junkyard as far as the eye could see. Trash, cars, homes, businesses, smoke, fires, rubble, everywhere. Paths had been cleared for us to drive but that was all you could make out. As we passed the Home Depot that had taken a direct hit and eight people were killed nobody said a word. The only sounds you could hear were sirens. Everyone eyes were still as big as saucers as we all tried to process what we were seeing in front of us.

We made it to our drop off point in what looked like the parking lot of what must have been a bank. Someone said it was the remnants of a bank where the day prior Anderson Cooper had taken shelter from severe weather. We unloaded and were greeted by a pickup load of Joplin city employees. They gathered us and explained what we were going to be doing. We would be walking a mile and a half to a residential neighborhood that had been completely leveled by the tornado. We were assigned to a lot where a home once stood. We were not allowed to enter any ones home no matter what. If the owners begged us for help and asked us into their home, we were still not allowed to do so. We had to stay on the path that was cleared for us and not allowed to stray off of it for any reason and under no circumstances were we allowed to take any photos. They explained that the residents of the area we were entering had hit their limit with the media and gawkers coming in and taking photos of their heartbreak. If we came across any personal belongings such as photos, jewelry or anything that was salvageable we were to give them to our team leader. Then came the reality of the situation. We were likely to find a body or human remains as we cleaned up. As they explained this to us in graphic detail, the woman next to me started to sob uncontrollably. They explained that tornadoes shredded things and it would be likely that we would come across part of a human body. If we did, we were to quietly clear the area and respect the fact that 156 people were currently missing and they had families all around us right now searching for them. So clear the area and find our team leader and explain the situation.

Our group of 40 began the longest walk any of us had taken up until this point. What we witnessed on this walk was utter devastation. Homes were spray-painted with messages of hope, thanks and anger. I saw faces of grief as people searched through piles of rubble looking for pieces of their old lives. My eyes met those of fellow human beings with such rage as if to beg me to stop gawking at their situation, but I couldn’t help but look. My mind couldn’t process what I was seeing. Books still on shelves sitting in the middle of yards covered in wood, mud, and clothing. Cars in the middle of bedrooms and trees pulled out of the earth.

We made it to our assigned lot where the shell of a green ranch style home stood. It had been gutted, the windows were gone, and the insides sucked out, but the frame still stood. We dove in picking up clothing, wood, and debris that was unrecognizable. We separated the piles into electronics, large appliances, hazardous waste, vegetative debris, construction debris, and household garbage. The first thing I found was a photo of a young girl celebrating her birthday. I started stuffing any photos I found into my pink work boots until I found my team leader. Brian and a group of men went to work cutting up a large tree that had fallen over in the front yard.

I met a woman in her 50’s who had driven from southern Texas with her sister, and a group of college kids from Kansas City. None of us wore our respirator masks due to the intense heat and humidity. It was sunny and now nearing 100. We had to wear long sleeves and jeans due to the nails and fiberglass.

The sights and sounds were haunting but the most haunting thing about the day was the smell. The aroma of rot and earth riddled the air and is something that will stay with me for the rest of my life. We all knew what we were smelling that day was death, but we were all too scared to say it. People were getting sick from it and tried to wear their respirator masks, but breathing was impossible while wearing them.

Our team leader returned to check on us and immediately took a man to get a tetanus shot after he stepped on a nail that was so big it went through his boot. I, on the other hand, managed to lean on a wall to take a break and took a shingle to the face giving me a black eye and scratch to the cheek. The guy who had flung it over apologized profusely, and we laughed it off.

The owners showed up to thank us, and I handed over the pile of photos I had stuffed in my boot. I’m sure they were not theirs, but with no team leader and our time winding down I had to give them to someone, and I hoped at least one would be theirs. The woman said she wanted to hug me, but I was so covered in dirt, and God knows what else we opted to shake hands. She said the photos gave her some hope.

After hours in the heat doing work I didn’t know I had the strength to do, our group made the long walk back to our pick-up location and waited for our bus. Our group had powered through emotions, heat exhaustion, dehydration and fear to pull together and clear out this yard for one family that lost everything. We worked without a break for five long hours. We were all bleeding, covered in mud, sweat, and filth as we sat together quietly and took it all in. We sat in the middle of ground zero each with a million-yard stare. Our bus was the last bus to leave that night as the curfew was about to take effect and residents were leaving to head back to where ever they were staying. While loading the bus some of us were finally allowed to take some photos of the homes that were now barren.

On the bus, I looked around at the faces of the people with whom I had shared this experience. They all gave so much and asked for nothing. They were tired and emotional; some started sharing their stories of who they were and why they were here. It was interesting to hear where they came from and why they felt compelled to be there. We all felt needed, and that day we were needed.

We unloaded back at the College to the Missouri Cattleman’s Association greeting us with open arms and food. They had a full meal for all the volunteers, and it was exactly what we needed. We were given all the food we could eat and asked for nothing in return. We spread out along the MSSU Campus lawn and ate, all still a little shell-shocked by what we had all witnessed.

Each of us stood up waved goodbye, knowing we would never see each other again. We were all in such shock we never thought to exchange names or numbers. We just exchanged prayers and well wishes and went on our way. We shared something big that can’t be explained in 1,800 words; we were bonded for life that day.

Brian and I quietly drive to Parsons, Kansas an hour away from Joplin. It was the closest hotel that could accommodate us. The city of Joplin and the volunteers we worked with that day changed something in us that day. What we saw will haunt us for the rest of our lives, but the people we met will always hold a place in our hearts. We feel in love with the city of Joplin that day. We feel like it’s a little of our city now and we are so proud of that.

Welcoming Jackson to the family

He'll be 3 in 3 months, has a tracker chip and was badly abused by his previous owner. Jax was going to be put down this week, and I couldn't let them do it. After twisting Brian's arm and pretty much begging we agreed he would come live with us. His previous owner as we found out, didn't feed him and he was in the vet's office with seizures because he was abused so badly.
He is a sweet little guy, very "floppy" and happy. Beans and Lewis are not sure what to think of him. Beans likes to sniff him while he is in his cage, and Lewis hasn't stopped bawling. I hope they can all get along soon but, for now, Mr. Jax is in a kennel until he gets a bit better with his house training and stops growling at Beans and Lewis. 
When we called the pound to say we would take Jax, they said that another woman wanted him. I said it was good and if she wanted him that was fine, as long as he was in a good home. So, sadly the lady looked at him and didn't like him. We had told Alex we probably wouldn't get him. After he was sad beyond belief, we surprised him with Jax this afternoon. We needed to scrub him down, get his shots, and feed him first. But, the reaction was priceless! It was instant love. Even Alex said, he loved Jackson more than me. 
Everyone considers saving a pound puppy. He has been here a mere seven hours and has brought us so much joy and love! There are so many animals being put down every day for no good reason. But, I can think of millions why we should save these sweet little guys and gals! Trust me, its worth it!
$15 for his rabies shot.
$11 for his license.
$22 for his flea shampoo, a toy, food, leash, and a collar.
The look on Alex Ray's face, worth a BILLION dollars! 

-
It's been two days with the new addition to our family. Jackson has been amazing. Friday night I suggested that Brian go to his parent's house to spend the night because I thought Jackson would be barking all night being in his cage. It's a big cage, and he can run around, so it's not bad but, I was worried. We put him to bed Friday night, and he was out cold. Saturday we let him upstairs all day. He was fantastic! He played and played no floor messes, no barking, no bad behavior at all. 
He even had some visitors. The nieces came over to see him and took him for a walk...or run I guess. He was so happy running with them. Then he went to visit his new Papa and Nana and was sweet at their house too. We have lucked out with him. The only problem we have is his interaction with our other boys. They bark and growl at each other, and we are still working on getting them together. But, for now, we are taking it slow, so there is no jealousy issues or fights. 
Alex has had a blast with him. Lots of running, and giggling! He gets to laughing so hard he turns all red. He is trying to teach Jax all kinds of things. They follow each other around, and Alex just talks and talks to him. (I should ask what Jax says back to him) He tells Jax, "I'm your boy".