Newtown, Connecticut

I've been a bit quiet this weekend as far as the blog goes. 

I, like I imagine most of you were, was glued to the tv and the internet sites, looking for updates on the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut that took the lives of so many.  As the death toll numbers climbed higher, my heart sank lower.

As the names and ages, the pictures and the stories emerged, the tears started.  I wish I could say they have ended, but they haven't.

I was privileged to hear Tim speak on the tragedy in church on Sunday.  Privileged because he had written a different sermon.  He decided less than an hour before bed on Saturday evening that he would speak on the shooting instead.  He didn't write the sermon- he opened his mouth on Sunday and the beautiful words just came out.

He answered the question we all ask- Where was God?

God was with the custodian who ran down the hall calling warnings, with the person in the office who turned on the intercom to alert the classrooms to trouble.  He was with the principal and the school psychologist as they ran towards the shooter, not away.  He was there with the teachers who hid their children in bathrooms and closets, with the teacher who reached into a hallway to pull a child to safety as bullets flew past and with the teachers who used their bodies to shield their students.  He was with the children themselves, as they followed instructions, as they watched out for each other- as one child said "It's ok, I know karate.  I'll lead the way out."  He was with everyone who chose to preserve, to build, to help that day.

Tim told us something else important- this was not God's Will.  People will try to justify it by saying God had a plan and it was for these children to die. God needed the children more than we did.  Others will say God killed the children and wonder how a loving God could do such a thing.

God didn't kill these babies and these educators. We have the opportunity to build and we have the opportunity to destroy, through the free will that God grants us.  A person killed these children.  A person who made a terrible decision.  Noah, one of the little boys killed, had a twin sister who lived because of the decisions her teacher made. 

We can't change the events that unfolded in Newtown.  We can't say the words that will magically take the pain out of the hearts of every person there- and in people across the country and the world.  There are no words to say.   Maybe one day Noah's sister, shaped by the events of today, will do something incredible in honor of the brother she won't get to grow up with.  Maybe those of us who are blessed in that we aren't experiencing this tragedy from such a personal level will hold our loved ones tighter, tell them we love them more often.

The lasting memorial of these children and teachers is Love.  Love harder, love stronger, love more often.  Love those around us who need it, whether they are our relations.  When we rise out of the ashes with love, we take a step forward, a step closer to a better world.


-Kristen

6 years

Tim and I celebrated our 6 year anniversary on Sunday.  In some ways, it's hard to believe it's already been six years, but it also feels like it's been much longer than that- after all, we've been together almost 9 years at this point.

Since our anniversary fell on a Sunday and Tim had to work, we decided to wait and go out to dinner on Monday, reasoning most people would be grilling out for Memorial Day.  We were absolutely correct- Carrabas was nearly deserted.  Yes, before anyone asks- I did have a coupon.

Each year we look up what the "traditional gifts" are and try to make sure that our gifts to each other incorporate that.  Some years it is definitely a challenge to find a gift the other person will like!  This year was Iron. 

Ugh, iron.  Really?  I looked up a lot of very blah gifts before stumbling on one I thought Tim might have fun with- a branding iron for steaks! You heat it up and can sear words in to your meat.  It was goofy enough and geeky enough I knew he'd love it and it plays off the "iron" theme.  I got him a few other little odds and ends to round out the gift.

In return, Tim purchased me a beautiful limited edition print from an artist I was drooling over- and some iron coins.  I  had no idea there was such a thing either, but there are- this set of three is from Sweden.  I have a passion for collecting foreign coins and old US coins, so this was definitely the perfect gift.

So now we are hurtling towards Anniversary #7 and I'm already thinking ahead to next year's gift.  Copper and Wool? Really? Don't make it too easy on us now.


-Kristen

Whirlwind Weekend

What a weekend we have had- you won't believe it!

On Thursday, as I am about to head to work after yet another night of not sleeping well, we realize that while we let two dogs out to use the bathroom, only one came back.  River ran away.   Tim and I split up and searched the neighborhood calling out her name.

At 9:40am, an hour after the dog went missing, just as we slide under a fence to begin walking the neighbor's acreage, Tim gets a phone call.  His Granny Irene passed away.

At 10:00am we called off the search.  Tim went to his office and I called in to my job to let them know if she wasn't home by 11:30 am I'd be switching off with Tim- he'd come home and wait to see if she wandered back home while I went to work.

I spent the next hour and fifteen minutes sitting on the front porch with Bear & Dixie, hoping they'd bark, play and generally attract River back home.

At 11:15 I called her name half-heartedly one last time- and imagine my surprise when she almost instantly appeared, soaking wet, muddy and smelling like stagnant pond water.  I was able to head off to work, while poor Tim had the joy of coming home and giving her a much-needed bath.

We talked with Tim's parents and were told the funeral for his Granny would be at noon on Saturday- in Georgia. We sent the dogs to stay with my dad and Friday morning found us Georgia bound.  What a drive!

Tim preached his Granny's funeral on Saturday and then we hit the road.  Saturday was my Dad's birthday and we had been planning a party for him while we all watched the Carolina vs. Duke game.  We left at 12:45pm and made it to his house by 6:45pm- only 15 minutes to spare!

From there we watched the Tar Heels whip the Blue Devils (the smile is still plastered to my face), then it was home for a much needed rest.

I thankfully got to sleep in today! I wish I could avoid work tomorrow- but instead, I've got 2 1/2 hours to make up from the stupid dog running away.  Sigh.  

It's looking like this week/next weekend is going to be just as busy!  Oh well, I guess I can rest when I'm 80!

-Kristen

Death-

No one will ever get out of this world alive.

Tim's Granny Drum isn't doing well.  She was admitted to the hospital on Thursday with almost no kidney function.  His uncle chose to ignore her Living Will, which forbids the use of any machines to keep her alive and asked the doctors to put her on dialysis. Friday she was unresponsive and Tim's Mom (Sharon) and Uncle (Steve) were faced with a tough decision- deciding whether or not to take her off of dialysis.  They had pretty much decided to keep her on pain medication and leave her feeding tube in, but discontinue any other life saving measures because of her wishes stated in the Living Will.

We were trying to plan when we might need to go to Atlanta, I was trying to find funeral clothes and Tim has been informed he will "get" to do the funeral.  When you are a preacher, you don't get a chance to be grieving grandson/son/cousin/in-law/whatever.

Today, Tim's Granny is responsive.  In fact, she was sitting up and speaking with everyone at last update.  The doctors aren't sure whether or not she will make it- she has some health issues and some early-stage dementia.

Right now, we're in a holding pattern.  We don't know if Granny Irene will pull through or pass away.  She may make it through this scare and pass away a month later- or a year later.  Or ten years later.

We just don't know.

-Kristen

So THAT'S what family is for...

First, a little background.

My brother is nearly 8 years younger than I am, aging in at 19 years old.  He went to a one year Auto Diesel School (highly ranked) to work on vehicles, but he went with paint and body work instead of something helpful like engines. Since it was a one year program, he is now out of school and living with my dad.

Thanks to this crappy economy and the fact that North Carolina is having some serious economic struggles, my dad was laid off work and went the full 99 weeks without being able to find employment.  He was eventually able to find a very crappy job paying very crappy wages, but it's enough, just barely, to squeak by on.

Fast forward to now.  My little brother's car (which he traded in his reliable truck for) is broken down, he doesn't have the money to fix it (despite being employed) and no one can/will co-sign a loan for him.  He asks me and I agree, though I told him to wait until after I got back from Indianapolis.  I figured that would give him at least another week or two to save money out of his paycheck, minimizing his loan amount.  We had quite the conversation about interest rates, interest compounding, saving money, etc.  You know me and money.

He hasn't mentioned the loan again and believe me when I say I am not going to beg to help him.  Ya know?



Anyway, I find out last night that he has not saved an additional dime towards getting his car fixed and it's been over a month since he asked me for help.    Not my business, you are saying? He's an adult, you are saying?  No.  The moment he asks for my help financially, even just securing a loan, it becomes my business.
Regardless, what irks me the most is he isn't helping my Dad out with bills at all.  Not a dime.  Oh, he's sure causing the power bill to go up.  He's sure hauling his girlfriend around and eating up the food my Dad has in the house.  Why in the world should he contribute to the bills?  He's not saving to get his car fixed.  He is literally blowing every paycheck as soon as he gets his hands on it.

I coupon so hard because I provide certain necessities to my family.  I take my dad toothpaste, toothbrushes, soap, toilet paper, shampoo- the toiletries necessary.  My brother, of course, gets to glom on and use these items. He doesn't even have to spend money on toiletries.  Yet he can't find it in his miserly little heart to help out on the bills?  He can't pay even a paltry $50 a month to help out his own father?  Yes, he knows exactly the financial dire straights my dad is in.  In fact, I've turned down Christmas and Birthday gifts from my dad for the past 2 years because I knew he would give even when he couldn't afford to.  Greedy guts snatches his up, of course.

I was so mad I could have eaten metal shavings and spit nails when I found out exactly what was going on financially over there.  It would be one thing if the boy was desperately saving every penny he could get his hands on to get his car fixed.  Instead, he's out living the life, going to movies, out to restaurants, burning up the roads between where he is living and his girlfriend's house (in my old car, I might add).  Meanwhile, my dad sits at home and sometimes makes it to work only on a prayer and thanks to the fumes in the gas tank.

I guess this is what family is for- to mooch off of, to treat them like slaves and to only take, take, take, without giving anything back.  My brother was going to move to Florida and move in with a friend of his and his family, pay them $350 in rent per month and yet he can't give a single red cent to his own flesh and blood who is struggling, partially because of the financial burden he's helping to create by causing the bills to go up.

Looks like we're going to have to sit down for a little "Come to Jesus" talk. If you aren't familiar with that term, don't think for an instant it means a sweet, polite discussion.

-Kristen