I’m editing the audio for an interview I did with Kyle, I should have it up tomorrow. In the mean time…these people did a much better job. I just saw this, it’s a report on the orphanage in Haiti where my brother has been. You’ll see him a few times in it. The footage was taken the first week after the earthquake, the filming team was following them around trying not to get in the way, etc.
Three posts on sunday and nothing since. How quaint.
Slugging along with the same things. I’ve been playing back-up hostess for my Sister-in-law, since nearly every night someone is coming in between the hours of 11 and 3, and leaving again between the hours of 4-6 to catch these darn flights ferrying orphans and supplies. Mostly out of Ft. Lauderdale, Vero, and Melbourne. Kyle came home for two days to have some meetings and hammer some details with heavy equipment they’re trying to move in, and to spend a few minutes with the ones who miss him most. Poor kid picked up that stupid parasite that everybody seems to get when they go to Haiti…so he ate alot but regretted it later.
My family has been posting this interview from Kyle all day yesterday and so forth so the chances are good that you’ve already heard it, but I put it together with some pictures he gave me to make sense of what he’s talking about. It’s a bangup job, sorry.
Today has been exceptional.
By that, I don’t mean “amazing” or “super great” I mean…it has been the exception. To pretty much all other days in my recent past.
lets work our way backwards here.
I may possibly never get invited to a “Princess House” party ever again. Or any kind of home selling party, for that matter. And if I do, I will have to wear a name tag that says “not allowed to ask questions.”
I’m just saying, if you’re trying to sell me hundreds of dollars worth of kitchen items, I am perfectly justified in asking a few detailed questions. Right? Am I the only person in the history of princess house shows who gets the contact info for the supervisor so I can ask her how long the company projects a profit from the current business model in a recession?
Yeah, I probably am. Poor lady, doesn’t know what’s about to hit her. I have so many questions. What IS the process for making the glassware non-stick? (Google failed me.)
Before that, we had dinner at my folks, and before that I walked past my brother-in-law at walmart, (we exchanged a surprised “hi!” but in spite of the fact that we haven’t seen each other since I moved here, we both kept on walking. Hmm.)
Here comes the exceptional part.
I worked today. Like, did stuff that helped someone and perhaps others, and so forth.
Every time I answered the phone, I had to pause because the FIRST words in my mouth were “Shoreline Church” and I haven’t worked there in two YEARS!!!! So I paused and then answered some garbled form of “air mobile ministries.” And half the calls I got were “what the soup of the day was.” If that boggles your mind, yeah, mine too.
So there have been earthquakes in Haiti. Like, a lot of them. And here’s the thing…my brother Kyle is there. He flew down on a NASCAR plane (what does that mean? I don’t know. I thought NASCAR meant cars.) a few days after the first one, and has been…doing a lot. I don’t know what exactly, I think it can be summed up in “anything and everything.” with an orphanage there. There is a lot of damage, a lot of need, a lot of hurt people, and it sickens me to say it but a LOT of dead people. A lot of everything every family and individual hopes to never have to experience or deal with.
Kyle’s wife Cherie is 6 months preganant, and if it weren’t for that and his stern “you’re not coming” she would be there too. So instead, she is here. Manning 4 seperate phone lines from early in the morning til late at night. Her priority is 1. Kyle is still alive, 2. Supplies and DOCTORS and hopefully 1 engineer are being flown on private planes into Haiti, 3. children that have visas and are in the adoption process are being flown OUT on the same private planes, 4. a million other things that are imporatant and pressings and everything all at once because DISASTER is a big word and is spelled with two S’s.
So I handled at least one of her phones today. And I emailed for her. And had others do things. And it was good to feel useful on a not-domestic level.
And I prayed for people. And people responded. And I called people. And people responded. And I got some weird calls. And some annoying calls. And some GREAT calls. And some “this isn’t going anywhere” calls. That’s what answering a phone IS, right? “Weird, annoying, great, or dead-end.”
And before that, I dropped my daughter off at my parents house for the day. And I really did miss her. I didn’t miss her, but I missed her.
I’m probably going to have to do penance or something for the princess house thing.
A few days after Christmas, Shannon and I packed up the van and headed north. With us we brought Kelly, Peter, Ruth Ann, Elin, Myja and friend Robin.
Sunday night we arrived, and I made spaghetti for dinner. Apprently it was good because we had no leftovers. Oh. And everyone effusively said so.
Monday night I made roast beef, and apparently it was good, because…lack of leftovers. Oh, and they effusively said so.
Tonight, we had a baked potato bar. There are a few potatos left, but the toppings are all gone. And Ruth told me “you were right…broccoli does taste good on baked potatos.”
Let’s see if I can keep the running streak. Good to know my cooking tasty food in large quantities skill hasn’t diminished.
Twice now, I’ve had the great pleasure of having my sister in law Lily visit me. (and Ella, and Shannon. But really it’s me.)
I always wondered what kind of life my brother TJ would carve for himself, and after meeting Lily and seeing them married and now expecting their first child, it’s really a clearer and very neat picture. By the way, as his big sister, I’m totally allowed to make these off the cuff observations.
Anyway, to the point of my post. In the past two weeks, I’ve had two dreams that have made me wonder a little.
The first one involved Lily’s parents flying in from California and telling her that the seperation from her was too hard, and they wanted her to move back home with them and to divorce TJ. And in the dream, TJ and Lily agreed to it saying “it was for the best” and “we can always get back together later.”
My second dream I had last night involved our whole family vacationing somewhere, and Lily emerged from their room one morning with her face covered in black eyes, bruises and cuts. I’m talkin full on “a car accident just happened on my face” bad. And we all stared in horror and asked what happened and she said she didn’t know, she just woke up that way. And of course everyone assumed TJ had been beating his wife or something.
I can’t claim to have ever experienced a dream that “meant something.” I don’t have those sorts of revelations, or moments of realization via dream form. And I certainly don’t think that has changed in the past two weeks.
However, what the heck is going on in my subconscious dreaming mind that is repeatedly making bad things happen to my brothers wife?!?!?
I’m so sorry Lily. I really am, and I’ll try to stop the bad made-for-tv-movie sequence of dreams before something truly devastating happens to you, like a shark eating your head, or an alien life form bursting from your appendix.
This is a two parter. The first part, I will give you a little history. The second part, I will tie it in with the events of today.
Part 1.
Several years ago, (ok…more like 8-9 years ago) my sister Harmony took part in a little impromptu Q&A on stage at church. Think “Bill Cosby and kids say the you get the picture.” I’m going to guess she was 5. When asked to spell Jesus, she (ironically) blurted out “J-E-L-L-O!!!” And in the next round, was asked to tell a story. Her version of “The Three Bears” went like this:
“Momma bear was outside in the garden, and baby bear came out and asked her ‘what are you doing?’ and mama bear said ‘something else’ and baby bear was like ‘ok’….” story continues in a similar nonsensical fashion.
The fact that Harmony thought “Something Else” was an acceptable answer to the question “what are you doing” was beyond hysterical to me. It made me ponder the phrase at great length.
Shortly thereafter, I received as a gift my first and only pet. A frog. I named him “Something Else.” Something Else had a full life that ended abruptly after a freak “broken arm” incident that may or may not have been my fault and which no vet or pet shop seemed interested in helping with.
In the following years, I used the “Something Else” name as a screenname online. Turned out there weren’t too many online sites where that “name” wasn’t already used, so I morphed it into “othersomethings” and thus…we arrive where we are today.
Part 2.
Today, as a surprise, Shannon took me out to lunch to the new(ish) place on the Corner, T.R. Frogs. We’d gotten a pizza from there before, and decided it was OK enough to try their $5 lunch special. Having a toddler, we received the kids menu with crayons for coloring and what not.
Towards the end of coloring in the frog on the front, I flipped the menu over to see that the back had a list of “Frog Facts.” I was curious. (You’re thinking…”I see what you did there. you were coloring instead of Ella. nice.” I’m thinking back “heck yes.”)
Reading down the facts, I got to this one. I’ve highlighted it in red, you can’t miss it.
WOW.
Just…WOW WOW WOW. How close CAN you be to Cuba without actually BEING in Cuba? Are we talking the line between international waters? Are we talking floating on the tide and just BARELY not touching the sand? Are we talking…HOVERING?!
I need to meet this frog. And is it literally THE smallest frog? Like the 1 individual smallest ever measured? Or is it the entire species of smallest frogs? And if they’re the smallest, how small are they? AND WHERE THE HECK ARE THEY ON THE COAST OF CUBA?!? This would have been on national geographic by now FOR SURE.
This gets better. I continue reading the “fact sheet” and notice that one fact states that the largest frog in the world can be up to 10 pounds. Then the very last fact, on the bottom of the page, says the largest frog in North America can be up 12 pounds. Hmmmmm…
So I made the necessary notes and dropped it off with the blond hostess at the front desk. As I pointed out the whole “distance from Cuba” problem she started laughing. So I hope things get righted. And I hope the print run on those kids menus wasn’t too extravagant.
And so, I have finally talked about frogs on my blog that was in a round-about way named after a beloved frog.
The End.
While Lily was here we went to the beach. It was hot. Sandy. Sweaty. And I was concerned that the water would be yucky from the storm that week, but it was it’s usual gorgeous self.
I’m such a beachgoing pessimist. The beach may as well as be nazareth to me…”nothing good can come from there!” it’s a pity I live by one of the most beautiful beaches in the world, and it’s charms are lost on me.
But we stayed for a bit. Lily loved the white sand, warm water, etc. She’s a central Cali girl. She said the water is always cold, in her experiance.
I had more pictures of Ella and I by the water, but I realized they were highly NSFW thanks to Ella clinging to my shirt neckline. Yikes.
My sister-in-law Lily came to town. Spent a few days with us. Cuddling with Ella, seeing a sight or two, and of course the main purpose of all human get-togethers…eating. We made some food. Some stellar, some ‘meh. But mostly stellar.
Case in point, she was telling me about an eclair recipe she’d made. I said “oh, we should make those!” thinking yes, throw that out there and see what comes back. It took her about 10 seconds to realize she really did want to make them. And so we did.
The puff pastry itself was surprisingly easy. Just a few ingredients.
Filling them with a vanilla pudding/whipped cream(the real stuff) mixture.
a chocolate frosting/glaze that will probably get added to the top of my food chain. It was epic.
Well hello there my friends, I can’t wait to get to know you better!
And get to know them we did. Over coffee, for breakfast, for lunch, for dessert, and just for the heck of it cause there were two left.
I’m thinking about when I should make these again. Because my instinct says “now.” But my common sense says “Maybe wait til you burn off a few more calories.”
Family with good recipes is the best kind of family.
I’m starting to write this post several weeks before I will post it. Partly because I’m already thinking about it before it gets here. And partly because…I really have to think. Hard. About what needs to be said on this day.
6 years ago today, my brother died. For those who don’t know, he was 12. It was horrific. For those who do know, thank you for reading this anyway and allowing me to continue the intricate process of healing.
I wrote about it with more detail than I can now recall here…(that entry is NOT for the faint of heart) and filled a few entries with the The things I wrote then… shortly after the event. I knew the memories would fade, and I knew I needed to remember long after I was able. And recording things was…so important. I’m glad I did. And then there are tidbits like this:
“Better”
The funeral was last night.
I made it without crying until my mom made the kids put roses in the casket and say our own goodbyes.
The service itself was amazing.
Everyone actually feels better. It’s weird, but it contained all the closure that funerals are supposed to have. Probably because it’s all over now, and we can get on with learning how to live again. But seriously…I think everyone feels better on some level.
The funeral home did a terrible job with his face…the make up was unbearable. I thought about complaining, but then I realized…it was actually better that way because it just drove home the point that THAT wasn’t Alan. Just his body. Alan would never look like that, and it helped especially with all the kids.
I’ve never seen so many kids at a funeral. It seems like the whole neighborhood came. All the kids alan played with. And all the family, of course. Kids from church and from school groups….They had a chance to say something during the service too, and that was really neat. To hear what the other kids thought of Alan.Yeah. I feel better. The hurt and confusion is still there, of course. But I feel free to move on and learn how to deal with it. I don’t have to keep hugging people and pretending I care about their sympathy. I don’t have to feel on edge, or like I have to meet people’s expectations.
There is healing. Now it can come.
There are two kinds of deaths, I’ve discovered. One is slower, a process, almost a natural course of events. Even if it’s only weeks, when you have warning, it feels different. The other is the sudden death. The only way I can describe an unexpected death is “traumatic.”
When my grandfather died, 4 years ago, we knew it was coming. It was relatively fast, but we had a few months warning. Time to put things in perspective, and process ahead of time the ramifications of a world without him.
With my brother…one moment the world was normal. The next moment, the ground was gone.
It has taken years, and is still being processed…what it means that he isn’t here anymore.
I never cried before that day. In my teen and adult years, tears just weren’t a part of my repertoire, and I could probably count on my hands the time I’d cried. I was stoic. Not given to emotion. Not interested in displays or drama.
That changed in seconds though.
If I ever took up acting, I would be able to do crying scenes like nobodies business. You know how they say “Think of your childhood pet, when you’re dog died” etc or something sad and you can cry? Really, all I have to think about is one moment, one aspect of that day, one little emotion I felt then or since, and I can command a waterworks. I feel it in my chest, the heaviness, the suffocation, and tears well up instantly.
I hate that.
“There is healing. Now it can come.”
I wrote that six years ago. At the time, the concept of being a whole person again seemed impossible, but I knew people did it.
I think I understand now, a little better…the healing does come. But it isn’t complete, and likely won’t be until…well…heaven.
A few times a year…today, his birthday, christmas, etc. these thoughts surface from the deep of my consciousness and the light shines brighter on these things I really don’t want to think about and emotions I want to forget, and feelings I would prefer not to feel.
And I think about the other people thinking the exact same things, like my mom, or my brothers, or my dad…and I know they’re dealing with it the best way they can too.
I have 5 brothers. The youngest was born just a few weeks before I got married.
Hard to tell from the small photo, but he’s drooling like mad. Dad knows how to have fun.
This was 2005, in Indiana – attending our cousin Cassie’s wedding.
I had a hard time when Graham was born. I was in my 20′s, had been away from home and was about to leave for good. And while in hindsight I know he was born at the right time, back then it felt like the timing could have been better. The reasons for my mania were a few. A big one being grand selfishness on my part – I felt upstaged by his birth while I was trying to plan my wedding. I felt like my parent’s attention was so divided that I was robbed of the glory that is one’s wedding experience. My mom was either pregnant or seriously postpartum. I cannot imagine being in her shoes that year.
I realized at some point that I just felt this horrid bitterness about Graham. I don’t think I touched or held him for at least a week after he was born. I cannot believe how selfishly I acted – I’m amazed at my own capacity for such bitterness and resentment.
There were some other reasons behind my attitude. On some level, I felt like he was supposed to be a replacement brother. And on some level, I felt like “geeze, how much do I, as the oldest of all these kids, have to bear? When does the train of giving and sacrifice pull into the station so I can get off?”
Unbelievable, right?
At some point, I got a reality check – God know’s how to kick you where you need it. I had a heart to heart with my mom and apologized to a tiny 2 week old Graham. And I finally held him. I think there was a lot of healing in my heart. God didn’t send him as a replacement. But as a gift of another kind, to fill a void we didn’t know was there. Our family was incomplete until he got there. It took 22 years, but he finally got there and you could (and still can) feel the whole-ness.
He’s almost five now, and I think he changed the Shropshire family in a drastic but good way. He’s a comic and a hero at the same time. And being stapled to the bottom of the totem pole with 4 bossy girls directly above him, he’s grown a massive personality that refuses to be sissified or ignored.
Case in point:
If you tilt your head upside down, you can tell he’s grinning from ear to ear. I guess having older brothers who can chuck you over their shoulder (or over the edge of a cliff) helps keep the “tea party machine” at bay. This was 2008, attending our brother TJ’s wedding. Both men pictured put on the ol’ tux pants for that one.
Graham is one cool guy, and I’m so glad he’s my lil’ brudder. I’m glad I get to watch what happens in his life. How tall is he going to get? How old will he be when God smashes into his life? Is he going to be a fixer? A fighter? Will he have the same air of authority that seems to come with all Shropshire men?
I really want to find out.
I’m glad that I get to.
