10 years ago

It is the tenth anniversary of September the 11^th  and a day to remember the 3,000 innocent Americans who lost their lives on September 11, 2001.  It is the one day a year when the news outlets replay those horrible pictures of airliners crashing into The World Trade Center and buildings collapsing.  On this anniversary there will be many more pictures shown than usual.  They are hard to watch but it is important to remember.  Those pictures are forever seared into our memories along with other horrific national events such as the assassination of President Kennedy and the explosion of the Challenger space shuttle.  After ten years, I am surprised how sad seeing those images again make me.  They bring back the feelings I and many others experienced collectively that day – deep sadness, fear and a sense of loss.

The thing I remember most about the first Patriot’s Day was the crystal blue sky.  That week had been difficult for my family already.  The weekend before my father had suffered a grand mal seizure that had caused his heart to beat irregularly.  My brother had suggested I come home to Nashville to be with my dad so I drove down from East Tennessee alone and planned to stay as long as necessary.  Since my father had a history of heart blockage, the doctor had scheduled him to have an arteriogram on the morning of Tuesday, September 11^th.  As I was driving from my parent’s home to Baptist Hospital that morning, the announcer on the radio was saying a plane had hit a building.  I assumed it was a local accident perhaps involving a private plane.  When I got to my dad’s hospital room, the television news was showing the video of the first airplane hitting the tower.  For the next several hours, I sat on the window seal in his hospital room starring up at the television mounted to the wall as the second plane hit the second tower, the second tower fell and then the first tower fell.  We were horrified.

Then, the fear started to creep in.  In those first few hours, we did not know how widespread the attack would be.  I called my husband at his school.  I checked in with my daughters.  I was in Nashville, the state capital of Tennessee.  It occurred to me that I may be in more danger in downtown Nashville than Jerry was in Greeneville.  Announcements were made over the hospital loudspeaker that the hospital had been secured and that we were in no danger.  I remember seeing a woman in Muslim dress walk past the hospital room door and being afraid of what she might be planning.  We were already anxious about the arteriogram and now we were afraid for our lives and the lives of our families.

The staff finally came and got my father and took him down for his test.  My mother and I went down with him to wait anxiously.  With the test completed, we returned to his room and the television with the horrible images of people running, their bodies covered in dust.  We were now getting reports of the Pentagon attack and the plane crash in Pennsylvania.  The day went from bad to worst when the doctor walked into the room and switched off the TV.  The blockage had gotten worse.  I could see tears pooling in my 79 year old father’s eyes.  The doctor saw them too because he said the next step would be by-pass surgery.  My father asked if they did open heart surgery on almost 80 year old men.  We do, the doctor said.  We had a glimmer of hope which was more than many families had that day.

In the sad days that followed, my dad had his by-pass surgery and survived it.  He was never really well after that but he did live two more years before cancer finally got him.  I went home to Greeneville and my dear husband who had celebrated his 50^th birthday without me.  I remember lying in bed crying uncontrollably as I watched the TV special in which Celine Dion sang the National Anthem.  The stress, sadness and fear had finally been released and I, like so many, began to realize how much our lives had changed as a result of that one day.

We will be celebrating my husband's 60th birthday on Tuesday.  It is a different world than it was ten years ago.  Our grandson is 10 and our granddaughter is almost 7.  They have not known a world without war.  They never knew my dad.  My mom does not know that it is September or that her husband has passed away but she still has her beautiful smile.  The world goes on and there is hope again.  I am hoping for a crystal, clear blue day.  

New friends at the pond

Adding a water feature to our backyard has attracted some interesting new friends.  It seems every morning when I go out to feed the goldfish there is some new friend at the pond.  Last week a whitetail dragonfly lit on the railing beside me as I enjoyed my morning coffee.  I took a chance of getting my camera and it paid off with this spectacular picture. The dragonfly was probably there for mosquitoes that hang out near water.   I appreciate the dragonfly's beauty and eating habits.  A couple of days later an American goldfinch landed on my black-eyed susans to feast on the seeds. I was so excited to see it up close I didn't dare move to try to get my camera.

Monday, I captured this grasshopper resting on the pond treatment bottle.  He loved having his picture taken so much that I had to shake the bottle to get him off it.  Yesterday, when I walked out on the deck, I scared off a blue tailed skink (lizard).  It was about six inches long so I got a good look at it before it slid between the railings.  They are quite common around here.  I hope he didn't have Monday's grasshopper for breakfast.

Today's visitor was perhaps the most disturbing.  As I watered the flowers by the pond, the spray prompted out a southern black widow spider from the rocks.  Holy cow!  I knew what it was immediately because we have seen them before in this yard.  I sprayed the rocks again and got this picture.  Don't worry -- I'm not going to get that close again.  I am going to look for the can of bug killer AND call the Orkin lady!

Now, I know to take my camera out with me every morning when I check on my babies.  I never know what new friends might be hanging out near the pond.

August vacations

With many kids starting school today, I couldn't help but think what August 1st used to mean to me -- first day of vacation!  Back in the old days (before air conditioning), school did not start until after Labor Day here in Nashville.  My dad was a bricklayer so August was unbearably hot for working outside.  His solution was to close down his business for the entire month of August and go on a fantastic adventure!

The adventures started with a trip to Florida in Daddy's work truck during the summer of 1964.  Mom and Dad were in the front and the three kids were in the back in a small camper.  It was actually a truck topper with a bed in back.

That trip prompted my dad to buy a proper camper to take to California to visit his brother's family.  The photo above is a Polaroid snap of me sitting on the hood of my dad’s GMC truck.  On the back it says, “Aug. 11, 1965.  Before we left on vacation to Calif.  Wanda.”  My father’s brother, Herman, was living in Long Beach at the time so it gave my parents the perfect reason to drive across the country to California.  The 1960s were a troubled time and race riots had started in the Watts suburb of Los Angeles on August 11, 1965.  By Sunday night we had driven across county to my uncle’s house and the riots had spread to Long Beach.  From his house we could see fires and hear gunfire.  The adults tried to remain calm but we were all scared.

We saw the wonders of the country on that trip and it is probably the trip that sparked a love of travel in all of us. We visited The Grand Canyon, the Rocky Mountains, Old Faithful, and the Pacific Ocean. We started a ritual of emptying a small jar of Hessey Road well water into any large body of water we visited. Disneyland, which is close to Long Beach, was a highlight of the trip for me.

We continued to vacation during the month of August for several years.  We would pack up the camper and pull out on August 1^st and come back August 31^st just in time to start school after Labor Day.  We saw magnificent places and things as we criss-crossed the United States, Canada and Mexico.  My August vacations ended when I graduated from high school and later got married.  Over those five years, I had visited 47 of the contiguous states.  I realized years later as a parent what a sacrifice those month-long vacations were to our parents financially so I am very thankful to them for creating in me a love for travel and an appreciation of all that God has created. 

My new pets

I will admit that I am not an animal person.  At best, I tolerate them.  It is a condition with which  I was born.  My mother placed a baby, Easter chick in my crib and I screamed, cried and tried to climb out the other side.  We did later have a pet chicken, Penny, who lived in the house for a brief period of time before becoming Sunday dinner for a neighbor's dog.

My family evidently had a pet dog and cat at some point.  There is a photo of my sister and I with a dog and a cat in the foreground.  Since I was not in a tree or standing on furniture, I must have liked them to some degree.  In my teens we had a Dachshund named Tiny whom I loved dearly.  I cried for hours when he was killed by neighboring dogs.

Our last cats -- Earl and Annie

Jerry and I had a couple of Cocker Spaniels who lived outside on our farm when the girls were children.  We also had a horse for awhile.  I helped take care of them but didn't really care that much about them.  We did, however, have lots of cats.  Somehow cats are more to my liking.  Maybe it is because they are independent and don't seem to care whether I pet them or not.  Our cats all lived out of the basement and came and went as they pleased.  Just the way I liked it.

When we moved to Nashville in 2003, we moved Annie, our calico, with us.  We cut her a door in the side garage door and she seemed to be adjusting.  She would sit on the deck railing sunning herself and keeping an eye out for birds.  Then one day I came home to see a neighborhood dog carrying her limp body away.  I jumped out of the car and chased the dog, screaming for it to release my sweet Annie.  It dropped her in order to jump a fence and get away.  A kind neighbor came out and comforted me back to my house.  Her husband, a funeral director, retrieved Annie for Jerry to bury in our backyard.  So much for the leash law.  That is why I don't like dogs.

We have been pet-less ever since and I like it that way.  That is until now.  We are now the proud owners of three goldfish who swim furiously around our new pond in the back yard.  My parents had a pond with goldfish and koi who would come up and eat out of my mom's hand.  I am going to train mine to do that.  I check on my fish numerous times a day.  I think I am getting attached.  See, I like animals.  My brother says a person doesn't really know how to love unless they love a dog.  Hogwash!  I care deeply for my two grand-dogs, Duke and Ace.  I adore my sister's four terriers.  But I reserve my genuine love for human beings, thank you very much.

What's with the plaid?

Sunday is Father's Day so I have been going back through old photo albums looking for pictures of my dad to share on Facebook.  This one of him with a pickle sticking out of his mouth like a tongue is a family favorite.  My dad had a rye sense of humor that I have inherited from him.  One thing I am glad I did not inherit was his love of plaid.  What's up with that?

The plaid made me think about Scottish kilts so I did a little research.  In the mid-19th century Scottish clans or families created a specific plaid or, as they call them, tartan design to identify their family.  Queen Elizabeth’s tartan is Royal Stewart made primarily of red with blue, yellow and black stripes.  Another popular one is Black Watch which is green with black and blue stripes.  New York City also has its own tartan.

We haven't been able to trace the Odum family name back very far so, who knows, maybe it's Scottish?  I do know that Daddy loved the plaid, I mean, tartan.  When he passed away, we saved his plaid shirts and jeans to cut up and make into a quilt and pillows.  There were plenty of them to choose from.  Each one reminded me of him.

When we are part of a family, we want to dress like the family.  The apostle Paul told us our faith in Jesus makes us sons of God and we are to clothe ourselves with Christ.  I may not have my earthly father's passion for plaid but I want to be clothed in Christ like he was.  Now, that I can do!

Thanks, Daddy, for the memories and the example.  You looked good in plaid.

Comforting others

We found out Bill was sick around Easter.  “They don’t know what’s wrong with him.” They said, “They think it’s his heart.” This was the first hint that our long-time friend was sick.  We weren’t worried.  He was strong and young.  Sixty-two is young to us.  Bill went to the best heart hospital in East Tennessee to be checked out.  His heart was fine but he was not.  He was losing the use of his muscles especially his throat and arms.  Around Mother’s Day, he spent a week in the hospital in Knoxville.  Still no diagnosis and the weakness was spreading.  By the time his wife and daughters brought him in desperation to Nashville’s Vanderbilt Medical Center’s emergency room, he could hardly speak or walk.  When we visited him at the ER, he had already lost 25 pounds and was no longer the strong, healthy Bill that we knew.  We went out of town for Memorial Day weekend and were surprised at how much weaker he was when we got back.  He could no longer walk or stand unassisted.  The doctors were closing in on a diagnosis but the prognosis was not good.  By that time, no one needed a doctor’s advice to know that.  The rare protein that was attacking Bill’s muscles was now attacking his heart.  A week later, Bill passed away.  His wife and daughters, who had made every effort to find help for the one they loved, went back to East Tennessee without him.

 

Jerry and I were stunned and saddened by Bill’s death.  We feel fortunate to have been able to spend some time with Bill during his last week.  We feel honored that we were able to share some comfort with his family during that painful time.  We just happened to be in the right place at the right time.  We offered our spare bedroom to Bill’s youngest daughter and her husband and they spent three nights with us.  One morning as her husband was sitting in our kitchen before heading out to the hospital, he noticed the scripture that is hand-painted on the wall.  It reads, “Cheerfully share your home with those who need a meal or a place to stay.”  (1 Peter 4:9)  He said, “Considering I am sleeping in your guest room, I guess you really do that.”  The odd thing was that we had planned to paint over that wall when we had painted the hallway about two months ago.  On two separate painting days we had forgotten to paint that wall and we still plan to paint it when we get around to painting the living room.  I am rethinking that decision.

 
Being able to comfort a friend when someone they love is dying is a powerful thing.  There is probably no other time in a family’s life that is more important than perhaps at the birth of a child.  We know that life brings tragedy and troubles.  The longer I live the more I realize that there is no way to prevent times of pain and hardship; but with age comes wisdom to know how to get through those times with the help of God and good friends.  During a serious illness a few years ago, a friend from church brought me a cup of coffee every day because he knew the hospital coffee was not good.  I did not know the young guy well, but he went out of his way to comfort me with a simple cup of coffee.  Having been comforted by others, I am encouraged to repay the debt by being available when others need me to supply their comfort.  To me, it is more than a scripture painted on the wall, it is a lifestyle.

Our last days in Honduras

Having finished our houses early we had all day Thursday to relax and do some sightseeing.  It was also St. Patrick's Day.  I woke up early and just lay on my bunk listening to the unusual sounds of the Canchias camp.  Since the tire had blown out on our truck the day before, we loaded the bus for the ride to the Heart to Honduras youth camp.  It was a wonderful place with a lot of potential but it was only partically finished because they had cut some trees during construction without permission from the government.  The government has prohibited new construction and the future of the camp is now in litigation.  It is easy to see why the trees need to be protected since they are magnificent and dripping with Spanish moss.  I hope there is someway to resolve this situation.

Linda relaxing in a hammock

We continued on to Lake Yure where Heart to Honduras has gorgeous property overlooking the lake.  They put out several hammocks and opened coconuts for us.  We enjoyed a couple of hours there hanging out in the hammocks, eating P&J sandwiches and just relaxing.

Thursday night we joined with the students at the School of Discipleship for a service at the Canchias camp.  The bug had finally caught up with me and I was not feeling great but it was a wonderful night of music, message and fellowship.  We got a late start since the electricity kept going out.  Our guys got a chance to lead in worship and did a fantastic job.  The students said we were the first group to visit who could play all the instruments and lead them in worship.  It was fun when the students got to lead us in one of their songs and it was the same song we had learned earlier in the week.

We all woke up early on Friday morning and were excited to pack up for our trip home.  We loaded the truck again for our last bumpy ride.  It was a somber trip with not as much laughing or talking as previous rides.  At the office we switched back to the bus for the ride to San Pedro Sula and shopping!  Linda, Jimmy and I were on a mission to get some hammocks.  At the market, the three of us combined our order and felt with Leo's help we negotiated a good deal.

Getting though customs and immigration in Honduras and then the US was a long process but it was so wonderful to finally be in Miami.  The three Odum kids stuck together and enjoyed an American meal of pasta at Pizza Hut along with a Diet Coke and as much ice as we wanted!  It was so meaningful to spend so much quality time with Linda and Jimmy.  I am really an Odum.  Mama always said it was unnatural how Daddy's brothers and sisters loved to be together but I totally understand it.  For so many years, we were not able to be together and now we can and it is great.

After a fast and scary landing in Nashville, I finally got to see my sweet Jerry.  Sharon came with him to pick up Jimmy.  When I got home, Jerry had a card and a rose for me.  Awww, he really missed me.  It was a trip I will never forget.  I can't say I would do it again any time soon but maybe some day.

A Real Roof

We were so excited to present Guadalupe and her family with the her new house and the items we had bought for her.  Heart to Honduras is very careful to select women who are in the greatest need.  The home is then presented to the woman so that she and her children can never be kicked out if the husband decides to take a new wife.  We assembled all the items in the new house and hung the new mirror on the wall where Guadalupe indicated.  Through an interpreter, we took turns telling her how much we had come to love her and her children and of our prayers for their future in the new home.  Then it was Guadalupe's turn to share with us her thoughts about the new house.  She started to speak and was overcome with emotion.  She cried and we all cried.  Through the interpreter she said, "I am so happy to finally have a real roof."  There was no mention of the beautiful mirror we were so proud of.  We repeated the presentation of two more houses with two more women and their families that afternoon.

We are so blessed as Americans.  I have more in one closet than Guadalupe had in her whole house.  It may take me some time to accomplish but I am going to get rid of my excess.  In the future, I am going to be more careful about buying things that I don't really need.

Getting money back

Wednesday morning in Honduras and we were up early again.  Today was going to be a fun day.  Since we had basically finished our houses, all the women got to visit a local school while the men went back to the job sites to put screens on the windows and doors.  One team had been going to different schools all week but this was the first time I got to go along.  The children of Honduras are so beautiful and friendly.  Yes, I am a sucker for kids with brown eyes!  We gave them bubbles, beach balls, toothbrushes, toothpaste and candy.  (I know it seems wrong.)  Most of the children's teeth are full of cavities since the water is not safe and they drink a lot of sugary sodas.  This little boy's front teeth were decayed.  He had a beautiful smile but he would close his mouth when the camera was pointed at him.  I hope somehow something will change for him and his permanent teeth will be saved.

My brother, Jimmy,
enjoying his burger

In the afternoon, we rode into Santa Cruz and went to a fast food restaurant.  It is crazy how good a hamburger and fries can taste.  We also got our first glance at a TV since we left on Saturday.  We were shocked and saddened to learn that over 4,000 had been confirmed dead in Japan from the earthquake and tsunami. 
After lunch, we broke into teams and went shopping for items for our homes.  I was so thrilled to be chosen to manage the money we had to spend on Guadalupe.  The first store was like an old hardware store; it had everthing.  We picked out a teal, plastic table with four adult chairs and two childrens chairs; a folding bed with mattress; a red, plastic storage unit and a beautiful mirror with Psalm 91 at the top.  I was excited to pay AND get money back.  Of course, it was in lempira which are 1/9 of an American dollar.  We crossed the street and spent the rest of our money on two toy cars, a broom, a mop, a bucket, a storage box, lots of food and soap.  All together we spent $133 and got back 61 lempira.  I love this getting money back!

It only took two days

It was Monday and our first work day at Guadalupe's house in San Isidro. After a breakfast of huevos rancheros, red beans, fresh melon and locally-grown coffee, the twenty-seven mission workers climbed into the back of a truck for the thirty minute ride along a rough, curvy, gravel road into San Isidro. San Isidro was not much more than a community of a few houses and a little store along the road. The Heart to Honduras compound was the hub of the community with its office and large, open shed for storing vehicles and supplies. We jumped out of the truck and loaded the bed with all the lumber needed to build two houses and the generator, known as "El Diablo" because of its massive size. Once loaded with materials, two of the four teams climbed up on top of the lumber for the short ride to our building sites. Guadalupe's block foundation and concrete floor were already in place when we arrived. It was situated on a narrow piece of land between a valley and a barbed wire fence along a dirt road. There was about three feet of clearance on each side of the house. A second house was being built down a path behind Guadalupe's house only assessable by squeezing along the barbed wire fence. All the lumber and El Diablo had to be unloaded from the truck. Half of the lumber was stacked for Guadalupe's house and the other half had to be carried down the path to the other location. It is amazing how quickly a simple 18' x 16' house can be constructed. Our team was made up of three men, five women and a Heart to Honduras construction leader. Since Guadalupe did not have electricity, El Diablo was fired up and the building commenced. I found a lightweight hammer and I hammered nails into the two-by-fours and siding. By lunch time, all the stud walls were up and the wood siding had been started. We climbed back into the truck and rode over to the office for a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while resting on the concrete paving of the compound. By the end of the second day, the simple house with two doors and windows was complete. To most Americans, we would consider it a shed or garage but to Guadalupe it was a mansion. Before starting construction, our team was able to visit Guadalupe's house which was down a slight hill from the new house. I could not believe she and her husband along with their twins, Ande and Andre, were living in such conditions. It was basically a shed made of planks with a piece of tin leaning against it to keep out some of the rain. The floor was hard, packed dirt. We had immediately noticed a jagged, broken mirror leaning on the wall and decided to buy her a new one when we went into Santa Cruz on Wednesday to buy items for the house.

Is this really happening?

The mission trip to Honduras is history so I must record my observations so that they are not history as well. I was excited and scared when I arrived at the airport at 4 a.m. on Saturday, March 12th, for our flight to San Pedro Sula, Honduras. My brother, Jimmy, asked me, "Have you ever asked yourself, 'Is this really happening?'" Well, yes, I have!

I had that same feeling Sunday morning when I woke up in Honduras to the sound of strange birds and crowing roosters. After breakfast we hiked up Ambassador Mountain to see the grave of Charlie Smith, the founder of Heart to Honduras.

In the afternoon we visited the home of the women for whom we would be building a house during the week. Her name is Guadalupe and she has twin boys, Ande and Andre. When I wrote my blog about her the week before I left, I could not even imagine that a family could live in such a "house" as the place where Guadalupe and her family were living. It was basically a shed made of wooden slats with spaces between them and a hard, packed dirt floor. One of the things we noticed when we visited on Sunday was a broken piece of mirror propped up on the wall. We decided then we would buy her a new mirror at the end of the week.

On Sunday night we had a wonderful Tilapia dinner at a restaurant before visiting a local church for service. There was much singing and dancing. The children would pull our hands for us to come and dance with them. I am no dancer but they didn't give us an option. I noticed a little girl behind me was not dancing. She seemed shy. I smiled and took a clothes pin on which we had written "Amigo/Friend" off my shirt and clipped it on her shirt. Later, she tapped me and held out a dirty, NASCAR elastic hair band for me to put on my wrist. She was wearing one on her wrist. I felt guilty for taking it from her since they have so little but how could I turn down such a gift. I wore it faithfully for a week. I didn't get the little girl's name but I won't forget her generosity.

A House in a Week

I am leaving for Honduras in a day. The packing is done. The last minute motion sickness medicine has been bought. The "to-do" list is almost done. My sister and I had lunch today and visited with our mom in the nursing home. We told her that her three children were heading out on a missions trip to Honduras on Saturday. She and my dad were there on a missions trip in 1979. We are not sure she understood us but we felt good about telling her.

My sister asked me if I could even know how the woman in Honduras is feeling today knowing that in a week she will have a new home, one with a concrete floor. Honestly, I can't. I lived the first four years of my life without an indoor bathroom but I was too little to really care. I have never lived without electricity. I have certainly never lived on a dirt floor. I cannot even imagine such a thing. By this time next week, I will have a picture of that woman and her new house. I am hoping that by this time next week I will understand just a little bit how she feels.

Countdown to Honduras

I am leaving for Honduras in a week.  I am a little paniced because I have not yet packed.  You see I pride myself in being a last minute packer.  It is a holdover from my trade show days when I could pack for a week an hour before I left for the airport on Sunday.  The hardest decision was deciding between the red/navy or black/grey wardrobes.  Packing for Honduras is not that simple.  As the handbook says, "It is more about what NOT to pack than what to pack."  I should have started packing ten weeks ago like my sister did but I will get it done.  I will be on the plane sans makeup, jewelry and hairdryer.  I will have all my Goodwill clothes washed, ready to wear and leave.  I will have a hat that will stay on my head during a 30 minute ride in the back of a truck.  I will have a borrowed camera not my D40 Minolta.  I will have my bug spray, Cipro, anti-dirrahea medicine, bandaids and Tylenol.  I will have my Bible and my journal.

But the most important thing I will pack is an open heart.  I plan to leave everything behind including a little bit of me.  I want to drink in the experience of helping people who really need the help but never ask for it.  I want the freedom to dance in worship with a bunch of strangers and a few good friends.  I want to feel a cold shower so I can appreciate a hot one.  I want to share an awesome trip with the two people who have known me the longest, my sister and brother.  Who cares if my hair is straight and I forgot the ?????  Seven days and counting.

My Valentine

My husband, Jerry, and I met on September 13, 1969. I remember the date because it was Jerry’s 18th birthday. His family was visiting friends at my church on the weekend they were taking him to start school at Tennessee Tech in Cookeville. You might call it a chance meeting since he lived in Greeneville, which is in upper East Tennessee, and I lived in Nashville. Our mutual friend had told me he was cute and she was right. His sandy brown hair was swept across his forehead and he was wearing a sports coat and tie. I am a sucker for a guy in a suit. He looked like a cross between Justin Bieber and James Bond. We whispered and passed notes during the church service.


From that moment on, there was no one else for me but Jerry. He is my soul mate. The person God intended for me to spend the rest of the life with. He completes me. He is what I am not and I am what he is not. He loves me completely for no reason and for every reason. God sent Jerry in that lovely, royal blue, double-breasted sports coat to me. He is my friend, lover, husband, and companion. He is the father of my children and grandfather of my grandchildren. When I prayed for a husband during youth camp the summer before we met, God smiled and thought of Jerry. Months before our “chance” meeting, God put into motion a plan for getting Jerry from East Tennessee to Nashville so we could meet. I tell Jerry that I was made for him. After all, God gave me to him for his eighteenth birthday.

Reading food labels

Last year I added exercise to my life.  Jerry and I are now exercising several times a week.  This year we are trying to change what we eat.  We are making some small changes but it is not easy!  I now have to read the labels on everything.


Take coffee creamer for instance.  I read the label of our beloved Publix "Rich & Creamy" and found CORN SYRUP.  Okay, so I decided we would switch to a more natural product -- fat-free half and half.  I didn't even take the time to read the label before I bought it.  After all, the carton said "Made with all natural milk and cream."  Well, it is actually made with milk, CORN SYRUP and cream.  Why do I need CORN SYRUP in my half and half?  I know some of you purists are saying, "Just give up the coffee" but remember I said we are making some small changes.  Now, I promise to read the labels of everything.  If there are more than five ingredients or if I can't identify the ingredient, I won't buy it.  Watch out CORN SYRUP!!!  I am wise to you now!

2010 - Best of the Best

As most people do during the New Year, I have reflected on the year just completed.  Two Thousand Nine had not been one of my most favorite years.  It actually was one of my worst; second only to 2003 when my father died.  Two Thousand, the year I almost died, pales in comparison to those two.  So, I am very happy to say 2010 was a pretty good year.  Let's look at the evidence:

Health of our family - Jerry and I both exercised consistently during 2010.  That made a big difference in how we felt generally.  I even walked my first race and lost some weight during the year.  Jerry's brothers and sisters-in-law had some rough patches but have come through them.  My mom had an uneventful, sweet, healthy year.  Considering we didn't think she would be with us into 2011, that is a blessing although coping with her dementia remains extremely hard.

Vacations - The highlight of our year was our helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon while on vacation in Las Vegas in February.  Fantastic!  My sister, Linda, and I took a trip to Alabama in March to visit our maternal grandparents' graves and do some ancestral research.  Linda, we really must do that again.  Over Labor Day our family rented a cabin at Center Hill Lake.  The guys played golf and the rest of us went to Burgess Falls and Cumberland Caverns.  So fun!  In December we got snowed in at a condo in Gatlinburg while celebrating Ron and Shelby's 50th wedding anniversary.  It really doesn't matter where you are or what you do.  Hanging out with the ones you love makes for the best of times.

Time with Family and Friends - Turner and Carson spent some quality time at our house during the summer.  We packed as many activities and memories into those days as possible.  We spent some happy weekends with all of them in Jonesborough.  Having them so far away is sad for me but seeing them so happy in their new home helps.  In December I spent a week with them in the snow and ice just playing Barbies and helping out.  It was wonderful to see Carla and Carson in their church Christmas play.  We have spent many a Friday or Saturday night lingering over a plate of food chatting with good friends.  That's how we spent the last few hours of 2010 -- talking, laughing and eating with old friends.

So, 2010 is history but it was good history filled with many pleasant memories that we will cherish for years to come.  Yes, the economy wasn't great and we wish we had made more money but we are rich in bunches of other things, things that money can't buy.