Misty water-colored memories

I have been up in the air about what to blog about. I started 100 things I'm grateful for last week, and as luck would have it, halfway through Firefox shut down and didn't save it. Awesome. So, I'm taking a break from that and fast-forwarding to this weekend.

We finally got the first snow of the season. Maybe not the first snow but, the first snow we could sled in. About 9:00 p.m. Saturday night the snow finally got deep enough to sled in. After watching the weather, I figured out that it was going to melt Sunday morning and fast. So, I spelled out to My hubby, Should we take him S-L-E-D-D-I-N-G? The boy jumped up and yelled, SLEDDING?!?!
Damn, we can't spell much anymore.
I said, ummm...no. I kept gauging Hub's reaction.
He reminded me that since his spinal injury he wouldn't be able to sled. I said, well we can take the camera, and you can watch. So, we put on a dozen layers of clothes, coveralls, and socks and made it to the park to sled. We were all alone, and it was great. We spent a good half an hour going up and down the hill until My husband said he was cold and ready to head home. I had recently eaten an enchilada and drank a cup of coffee, and it was all sitting in my throat, so I was ready to go home as well.
It was a great night and a great memory. I hope it's one of those memories he carries forever and tells his children about. "Your grandma and grandpa took me out sledding one night before the snow melted" It was dark, we were the only people out, and It was still snowing so hard that all you could hear was the snow hitting you in the face and ears. It was so quiet and beautiful!

I always share stories with my son about things I did at his age or my favorite memories. I have so many great sledding memories with my parents. They always took us every year. Now I wonder if they did it because they loved it as much as my sister and I. They have some hilarious late 80's early 90's videos of all of us sledding. I need to find those to show my son; he would love it!

Last Christmas I wanted to get my son a sled. My husband said, let's wrap it. I didn't want to. I remembered very vividly one year my sister and I both getting sleds and they were leaned up by the tree. When I think back at my Christmas memories, that is one that sticks out. I mentioned it to my sis, and she agreed, she also remembered that very vividly. It's the little things your children remember. I don't remember anything else I got that year but, I remember that sled. Maybe my son won't remember us dressing up to go, actually being there or going down the hill one time, but maybe he will remember us laughing hard, making snow angels or running around catching snowflakes on our tongues. I know I will remember all of it and how we turned a quiet Saturday night in front of the TV into one of our best family memories to date. 
Oh, and of course the snow was almost entirely gone today, but the frozen fog on the trees made for a beautiful sight!

Blessed

This bracelet honors a true American Hero. 1LT. Jacob Fritz. Five years ago today he was Killed In Action. Five years ago today I lost one of my best friends. Jake and I always had this bond. I couldn't tell you what it was. We were opposites. He was laid back, conservative, a leader and I was high strung, wild and liberal. We always joked about our "politics" yet NEVER once downed each other about it. He loved me for me, the good, bad and ugly. I loved him for him...never bad or ugly. I have 1,001 stories about Jake. I like to keep some buried deep in my heart for myself on days like today. Some, I love to share because they paint the perfect picture of who he was and why we all loved him.

Jake and I had these crazy nicknames for each other, HTG. LOL. They were for us, and still, make me laugh today. He came up with them as a code when we wrote silly notes to each other at school. (I'm so lucky we grew up in the time of notes and not texts, I can still look at these anytime I want, Blessed)

When I was in High school, I was out of control to put it lightly. It was Jake who gave me a good "talking to" when I ended up at the police station one night. He never got angry or asked why did you do something so stupid? He just sweetly tried to get me on the right path.

The car, oh the times we had just driving and talking. That car makes my heart sink, and soar at the same time. I get a pang of grief, followed by a smile when I see it. When I see his brother in it, it takes my breath away and takes me back 13 years. I see him in his football jersey parked in the driveway grinning yelling, come on...lets go for a drive before the game. (Blessed)  OR, Let's slide down the roof of that barn for fun before I leave for West Point. I ended up with torn clothes, cuts everywhere and a stomach ache from laughing so hard. (Blessed)

At 16 I decided I was going to move out of my town of 100 people and to NYC. This is logical right? LOL, It's super easy to just pack up and find a Carrie Bradshaw apartment that is affordable. It was Jake who had reminded me; I need a college degree, money and strength to live out this dream. And when I decided to fall in love and get married instead of going to College, it was Jake who promised to be there, no matter what. He said he would come back from West Point to be there and support me as long as I promised to think about going to College. I promised, and when I got married on 9-11, he was there. I was married in a small park that only sat about 100 people. We didn't invite many friends because family filled it up. I invited Jake, knowing he would find a way to be there. And as I stood saying my vows, I saw him walking up the hill in his uniform. His grandfather had passed away, and he left right after the funeral to keep his promise. Through his grief, he celebrated my love. (blessed)

When my son was born, Jake came to visit during the summer. He was in town because he drove his little brother to swim lessons and stopped by a few times a week to visit. One of these visits I was so sick with the flu that I didn't make it out of the bathroom the entire time he was there. This was the summer before he left to go to Iraq. He sat by the bathroom door talking to me while my head was in the toilet. (Blessed) One of the other times, he got on the floor and "army crawled" with my son. My little guy didn't crawl, he drug himself, and Jake showed him how it was done. :) My little guy, "Army Crawled" for a long time after that. My son loves that story. He loves Military Guys and thinks it's pretty cool that a real-life Army Hero showed him how to crawl. (Blessed)  

A week before he passed away. He called me. (Blessed) The connection was terrible, and the delay was infuriating. He wanted to give me a hard time about my childhood home. His friends had moved into it and found my "I LOVE JACOB" shrine painted on the back of my closet. He laughed, I was embarrassed, but finally, I had a good laugh about it. After about 10 minutes the static and delay were so bad that I couldn't hear him and I yelled that I couldn't hear a thing and I would email him or my space him. There was no reply, so I just hung up. The guilt eats me alive. I gave up. If I had known that would be the last time, I would have kept trying until it was clearer. Why did I give up so easily? 

And on the day he passed away, I woke up and turned on CNN. There was a helicopter crash that killed five soldiers. I jumped on Myspace and sent him a message. A few hours later I got a reply; all was fine. Then, I got the call from my brother-in-law. I knew it wasn't true; he said he was fine. ALL WAS FINE. 

Things I do to help others is my way of honoring him. I try to do what he would do in certain situations. I know he would have been proud of work I have done over the years, My "causes" and craziness. Sure, there are times during my "causes" I cuss and lose my temper but, if he were here, he would just get a bit frustrated with me and laugh.  I wore my bracelet when I worked in Joplin, proud of his presence in my life through some of the things I do and don't do. 

He was my best advisor. He was my greatest confidant, the only person in the world who heard what I had to say and never once got mad or judged me. He was my friend. He was my husband's friend. He was everyone's friend. We all have stories to share about the boy with the bluest eyes and biggest smile. Mine are mine; they are MY stories, OUR stories, MY memories and that is pretty great, and makes me the most blessed girl in the world.

My Prime Time Television Debut

So I guess I didn't realize how excited I was about the Joplin EHMO episode tonight. About 6:58 I was fine, then it started, shots of the tornado and of course the stories...by 7:05 I was a bawling mess.
When we were down there, we knew we were working on a single mother's house who had one son. I had heard a rumor the mother had lost a child but, they didn't give us any details.
So, hearing her story and the story of the mother who lost 2 of her children was heart-wrenching. To make it worse, they mentioned one little boy was six years old. 
While their stories were so gut-wrenching, I thought about the old lady I met during this trip. She sat every day across the street from the building site and watched. She told us the spectator area was on top of where her house was. She had her granddaughter and sister with her (her only family) Her granddaughter (6 or so) dug in the dirt for anything that may be hers as she told me the story. She found a key and was certain it was her grandmas. The woman was happy for all the families who were getting the houses but wanted to know what made them all more special than her? She rode out the storm in the tub covering her granddaughter. She lost everything and was living in a FEMA trailer north of Joplin. I sadly understood. While happy for the families tonight, I was so sad for people like her who had no home, no job and no other family. 
So, back to my TV debut. If you saw me, awesome! I didn't think I'd be on. I stood behind the camera. I'm crippled by stage fright so, I was happy to be in the back. If you saw me, did you notice the lack of enthusiasm? Yep, it was written all over my face. 4 hours of reshoots, act happier, cry again for a close-up, all while herded like cattle into a hot tent had brought me way down. And for what? 15 seconds of air time. 50 or more perfectly great and eager volunteers wasting time standing around. I wish I would have walked out. However, I had a critical job to do. Cut yarn. Cut, yarn. Need yarn cut? Call me; I'm a professional. I was given lessons, by at least five different producers & Ty Pennington. 
After all, is said and done, I was pretty excited to see myself. I saw my hands first. I was content with that. I yelled, look, my hands, that's my bracelet and ring! (lame I know) Then my sweet side views with my happy face and DC. We do not have a DVR, so it went fast, but I was pretty excited. Hubbs was in the background too, so it was pretty cool to see. My awesome friend DVR'ed it, so she sent me a pic and again, all was right with the world. 
So, I'm proud of the work I did. I worked hard. If you know me, you know I'm lazy and hate the heat. Well, I worked for nearly 7 hours, hard labor in 90-degree heat. I rode home with my eyes closed from the intense heat headache. I couldn't eat the rest of the night because of a headache and the intense smell of decay and earth stuck in my nose. I felt nauseous for two days after. So all in all, I worked myself sick. And I would do it every day for weeks if I had the chance to. 
Besides my son, it's been the most rewarding thing I've ever done or been a part of. I hope anyone who reads this will volunteer for something like this if ever given a chance. God forbid anything else like this happens again. But, do it if given a chance. The rewards are so huge. The feeling of helping someone when they have nothing is incredible! 
We went the first time days after the tornado. Less than four months later Hubbs had his accident. About six weeks after the accident I drug him back to Joplin. I needed out of the house and near people. We love the city and people, and We needed something positive. The people of Joplin will never know how much we needed them at that point and how much they helped us during such a low, emotional point. 
We drove our vehicle from our home, leaving our healthy child and possessions. We were broken, sad and tired. When we left after two days, we were thankful, humbled and had our eyes wide open. 
In a few months, we are headed back to Joplin. A city that keeps pulling us back. We have had so many offers from people we met and some we didn't but read my article who want us to stay with them. The calls, cards, letters, and emails remind us that people are thankful and we want to help until everything is cleaned up. 
I wrote my stories, share my love of Joplin, and photos of the devastation hoping my son will follow our lead. 
I watched him hold a door open for an old lady with a walker the other day, and that's why I will continue to volunteer to help others.