Seek and Ye Shall Find

E is not happy with me this week.  She really wants a Magic Eight Ball toy.  Yes, the same one we all had as kids that is the black plastic ball you ask a question to, shake it and watch the little window for the triangle die inside to give you an answer.  The cheap, worthless toy is still on the shelves in the toy aisle.  If she gets one more 100 on her spelling test I told her we could get one.  I also told her prayer is a more worthwhile exercise if she is seeking answers but to a six year old, the eight ball is really cool.

I get it.  I want to know the answers to life too.  Each day I seek to know more, learn more, make more of myself and my business.  Will I succeed?  That is a question I want the answer to most but I know only time will tell.  I am not a patient person so this is hard for me.  So I get up everyday and work to build something; what form it will ultimately take I do not know.

There are things I do know, hard, concrete details about life, politics, family, faith.  And some of those details are pretty cool and useful; others are hard to swallow but they are truths just the same.  It is the blind corners of life that keep me on my toes.  I do not use a magic eight ball but rather a lot of prayer and a lot of gut feelings that have not lead yet me astray.

I wish I could find the answers I seek by buying an $8 toy.

One day E will learn the answers to life she will seek (after the, "when will I loose my bottom teeth" questions pass)  are part of a priceless journey take by living and trusting one day at a time.   Until then, if the Magic Eight Ball toy makes her smile I will let her be a kid a little longer.


 

Typing Through the Tears. Happy Valentine's Day

Eighteen years ago yesterday, I was in my second year of college and enjoying every ounce of life's adventures sent my way.  That morning, Feb 13, 1995, I woke up to a rose and card left on my doorstep asking me on a Valentine's Day date.  A real Valentine's Day date.  It was not a "lets hang out" or "we'll figure something out" kind of date; it was a dress up, go to a restaurant with linens and eat a steak kind of date.  I was so excited.

I had so much to do to get ready and the day flew by quickly.  I called my grandmother that night to tell her about the latest headline in the life of her Wendy and thank her for the stamps and card I had received that day from her.   She always sent me stamps; it was her not so gentle reminder to write.  Her name was Ella Pauline, "Polly" to the world but "Nanny" to me.  Nanny was tired that night.  She had been up and about all day with her girlfriends and was about to go to bed.  My last words to her were, "I love you Nanny.  I miss you.  Hope to see you soon."  We hung up after she said, "I love you too Baby".  

I say those words, "I miss you, hope to see you soon" a lot but to her I meant them.  She knew that.

Valentine's Day morning was that usual routine of going to class.  The extra spring in my step went missing when I walked into the tee shirt store where I worked.  The shop's owner had become a family friend and I could tell from his face something was terribly wrong.

"Wendy, I want you to come back here and call your dad," he calmly said.  I dialed and Mr.  Scott never left my side.  He placed his hand on my shoulder when I screamed, "NNNOOOO!!!".  My father tearfully told me Nanny had passed early that morning.   Both of our hearts were breaking.

Today, our hearts are taped back together and still beating.  There is a hole the size of Texas in them but they are beating.

This morning was a chilly one in Austin.  I grabbed a jacket from the back of my closet that I have not worn in a while.  On my way out, I buttoned up and slipped my hands into the pockets.  Slowly, out of my left pocket, I pulled out a book of stamps.  The tears have not stopped since.....

I miss you Nanny.  Thank you for staying close.  We could all really use a good hug right now.  

After the Wreckage Clears

One morning last week I awoke to a loud, hard knock on my front door.  I did what any wife would do and kicked m husband to wake him up so he could answer the door.  "If it is an axe murderer", I thought, "my children need their mother"... of course, if it was an axe murderer would he/she really knock??  ANYWAY, there was a loud knock and on the other side of the door was a loud bus driver who admitted to hitting my parked car outside of our home.  Of course, she really could not deny it the bus was stuck, its lights glowing with my car's back bumper blocking its way.  I almost felt sorry for her only passenger who was blissfully sleeping through this chaos.  Poor guy, how would you like to wake up to this- oh wait- I did so lets just forget that dude.

The rest of the day went on as usual only I had a severely scraped bumper.  I carried around guilt wishing the bus driver had not stopped but rather just continued on totaling my car.  If it weren't for my alert neighbors, I thought.  That dang neighborhood watch why couldn't they just sleep in one morning.
I am a good person and also one in need of a new car.

The day continued on and I found some peace.  I also found a very old picture of myself and someone who was once in my life.  The picture randomly fell out of a book I was packing away on a shelf.  It was a great picture.  I smiled at it then I tore it in tiny pieces.  If I had a match I would have given it a Viking's burial.  Why?  No, it was not because the bus hit my car.  It was because I have moved on and do not need physical reminders of what once was so long ago.  I was hurt shortly after that photo was taken and after the emotional wreck cleared I was still me only a stronger and an improved me.  Kinda like a new bumper... no physical evidence of the wreckage.  

I went to bed that night with a filed insurance claim, a wrecked bumper, a clear conscience and a full heart.  It's good to me.