We're Leaving, We're Leaving, Whee!

The Jackson 3 are shipping out tomorrow. Whoo-hoo! So exciting! We leave Memphis at 620 so Daddy and Neall will pick me up at work at 5 and Becca is dropping us off at the airport. I am so excited! We are going to have great fun. Daddy said he felt like you would want us to have some spending money--I feel certain YOU would!!!!!!! You had so much fun in DC when you and Daddy went. Just a few months ago, you sent an email about the tomb of the unknown soldier and how special it was for you to see it. I really hope we get to see it when we are there. Miss you terribly and lots of love,

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Peace in my Little Valley

Today was such a wonderful, absolutely peaceful day. I needed one of those. I got up this morning intent on going to church, Galloway Methodist, and since Tara is looking as well, I convinced her that we should try the church at the end of my street. So, being the dear that she is, she came all the way to my house and off we went. I wasn't sure what to think when we got there and the service was held in a very, very tiny sanctuary. It reminded me of Grandma Jackson's church in Oaklawn, AR since there were only nine rows of pews on each side and maybe thirty people there. I was pretty shocked since this is a huge church if you see it only from the outside and there are always lots of people there when I drive by for one event or another. Some of the things that I am looking for in attending church were there today. There were people on the other side of the room that came over to shake our hands when they did the meet and greet section and they actually SANG songs--not the slow drawn out songs, but actually sang them with excitement. I remember you always loved Revelations and talk of the rapture. And they even sang that last verse of Amazing Grace, which started the tears.

The sermon was about prayer and how important it is for us all. She talked about how some times things happen and no one can explain it and how important it is to go to God in prayer. Some people will tell you that God did this for a reason or what not and the pastor said that no, God does not do this to us for a reason but that does not mean that He doesn't want us to learn something from it. That touched me in a way that I can never explain. It has been so hard since you left us when people say that God has a reason for this. Well, as sacrilegious as it is, it is hard for me not to scream, "I don't care what His reason is, it can't be worth this!" But to think that His heart is sad too that you suffered and that you leaving us has broken us in ways that no one can know, makes it a little more bearable. She told a story of a woman who had been molested as a child and her dilemma in trusting a god that let this happen. God isn't happy to see that happen and he didn't let that happen to her, and sometimes, you want to scream, "God, damn that person for this". I can relate, I often want to scream, "God, damn brain cancer" and I feel okay for feeling that way now. That is good. I was of course sitting there with tears streaming and of course the only thing in my purse (never one known for preparedness!) were the fabric samples of the dining room renovation. So, as I sat with striped upholstery fabric dabbing my eyes, a lady behind got up, went and got me a Kleenex and brought it to me. Wow. Then I looked at Tara, as in "Can you believe this? Why can't I get this steady trickle to end?" to see her tears streaming. How to react to your right hand and rock crying? I know the sermon was touching and all, but I know that her tears are from seeing me hurt. Knowing that a friend is so dear that my pain makes her hurt, is more than I can comprehend and more than I could ever have imagined. Just the beginning of good things that were created from our great tragedy.

I am a different person now. I am a better person now. The "little stuff" just doesn't get to me like it did, I really just don't care. For better or worse, I am not able to waste my time with those that are not being a positive force in my life. I am taking charge of me and facing my fears head on now--let's remember the removal of the dead rat, that's a big one for me! I am finding a creative and artistic side I never knew I had. What is a math nerd like me doing painting and crafting? I have lost 30 pounds and two dress sizes--half way to my goal. I feel stronger--if I can handle this and wake up every morning and be productive, then I am proud of me. Does that mean it was worth it or this was the reason? No, if I thought it would bring you back, I would be down on 3rd Street smoking crack and hooking! But it won't. The only thing I can do to bring you back is to be the best person I can be and make you proud of me and let people see you in me.

As we left today, all I could think is, what in the world do I say on the VERY brief ride home from church to Tara? I settled on, "So obviously, that touched me in some way so I guess I need to go back there, huh?" She agreed.

I then went to Wynne and Daddy cooked out. Then we went to Wal-Mart to get flowers for my beds out front and Pat came over. It's strange to be there, in your garden where Daddy moved your bulbs to where you had the little markers from last year already in place for them, and you not dance out on to the deck, but we do it. And we laugh at how you never really one to be concerned with weeds, just planting flowers, weeds and all. Isn't that kind of how we are now? Flowers with weeds sporadically around us?

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Rudabega

You always would go into a sneezing fit with our poor Rudy, who only wanted to love on you, by the way. Two years ago, on the Saturday before Mother's Day the year that John's mom died, Rudy got sick and when I took him to the vet, they said he had a horrible urinary tract infection. After spending the weekend in the emergency hospital, many dollars and a "talk" from the doctor that he probably wasn't going to make it, the little man came home to torture us and Bill again. Yesterday, I was getting in the shower and saw blood and freaked out and rushed the dude to the doctor to find out he was going through it again. My first thought was, oh my God, Rudy is going to die and torture Momma for eternity. Of course, you won't have allergies where you are, so he would have just sat there and tempted you to pet him only to swipe at you when you did. Thankfully, he is home and fighting everytime we, (who am I kidding, I) have to give him antibiotics. He is a pretty cute kitty though and you don't get to play with him yet. You do have Bo and Sam. I can remember Neall & I sitting on the floor in the kitchen with Daddy trying to name Bo when we were kids. It was definitely between Bo and Luke -- the Dukes Of Hazzard of course.

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The Hunt Goes On

Well, I am not sure that Idlewild is the place for me. I am really asking myself some tough questions and I didn’t think that was what this was about. Getting back in to church was supposed to be something to bring me to a better place so that I could create a new foundation in my life now that every thing seems to have been shaken to the core. It is very awkward walking into a church for the first time alone. And even more awkward going into a Sunday School class alone when you know no one!!! But I did it because I felt it was important and I really am in great need right now. I am used to being the only one I am around with the political beliefs that I have. It has actually become a scar that I carry with pride, almost like my very own, very Red, scarlet letter. While there are some friends that I will disagree with and have discussions with or even, maybe instigate, for the most part, I try to just nod and smile politely when in the middle of a discussion of differing views. But, I did not expect to go to church and be smack in the middle of a political discussion. Almost a political lesson. I had teased about they were going to try and convert me, but I really felt like I could just smile and nod and it all be my little dirty secret, and no one ever be the wiser. When I asked about classes to attend, I got a list of three: the class I attended, a class for young parents (I really wanted to be in that class but thought it a little creepy with no baby) and the current issues class—that someone described as a liberal support group. Knowing that was not the way I wanted to go, I went to the first one which would look at big issues. The first issue was subdue versus dominion.

Originally I was pretty thrown off kilter since I had trouble finding the books of the Bible. Yeah, that can be pretty embarrassing and really show that you have not been in church in a while. I wanted to tell the teacher, “I know I am a little slow today, but I was once a champion in Bible Drill at Union Avenue Baptist Church in Wynne, AR” but I managed to refrain. I was really excited about this class, realizing that this was not your kids’ Sunday School class. It was actually a discussion that prompted thinking and prodding. It was good; I like that. Somehow along the way the class turned into an environmental conservation lesson though. We started out in Genesis 1:26-31 and then went on to read other instances of “subdue” and “dominion” to better determine their meaning. The instances we looked at all had to do with land and this was turned into how God gave us this gift, the Earth, and we were to take care of it. In turn, how could we justify strip mining and oil drilling? With great pride, I sat there nodding and smiling politely, even when others in the class made snide remarks and sarcastic looks whenever the teacher brought up our “current administration”. The teacher commented that now more of the evangelical Christians are becoming interested in environmental issues and of course, the snicker came, “but is that for Christian purposes or for political gain?” At the end, the teacher asked if he had really proved that God wants us to be environmentalists or had he just used smoking guns and mirrors to prove his point, and he said, “well, maybe a little of both”.

Here is where my query comes in… is it really enriching for me to go to a class where everyone believes the same as I do? Isn’t it more of an intellectual and enriching experience to be around others with varying views and be able to see things in another light and either change your mind on issues or be able to better justify those things in which you believe? I think it is better to have differing opinions. If I were around people that always felt the way I do, wouldn’t I just be regurgitating their comments and information?

This was my thinking when I decided I was going to continue to attend the class and see what I can learn. And then I got the email. The one that said our Sunday School class would not be meeting in the same room because we were combining with another class for a guest lecturer: Harold Ford, Jr. The candidate for Senate. The search is on for a new church since I do not feel like I need to be somewhere that substitutes a political rally for a Sunday School class.

I know how much it meant to you for me to be back in church and I promised the day you died to go back. I have missed a few days here and there, but I am trying. It is just so hard to be a grown up. It was much easier when I was a kid and having you stand over my bed making me get up, get dressed and get to church with the family. Ha! I remember the time that we saw someone leaving from church with a reindeer or something on the grill of their car and I was making fun and you, so seriously, asked me if I didn’t see the one on our car. In all of my preteen angst, I was mortified! How could you do this to me? Once, I spent the night with a friend on Saturday and after church we had to stop at IGA. Daddy and I went inside to get whatever we needed and while I was inside, you hung my training bra on the antenna. Again, mortified. What I wouldn’t do for you to mortify me again in front of all my friends. I would give anything to see you do Y-M-C-A at Josie’s with a houseful of my friends just one time.

Fear not, the hunt continues for the church for me and I will find it, I promise. You are going to be proud—I promise.

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Happy Birthday John (it was March 7th)

My gift to myself for letting John turn 30 without strangling him was an iPod. I honestly do not know how I lived before I had this thing. I made fun of people with these things and how STUPID to spend that much money on something like that, but I take it all back and admit that I am wrong. Not only can I put my music on there, and every single person I know, I am asking for their CD collection from their car to put on there too, but my entire life is on this thing! It has enough space that I can backup my laptop on it as an external hard drive and I can add my pictures in it as well to show off all these kids I know and love at any given moment. The clincher is that I can synchronize it with my Outlook contacts and calendar so that I can have those everywhere too. I am so giddy with excitement over all this fun stuff. The only downside is my rhythm. I can’t dance. As I toil down Airways to work, I realize that people are laughing at me because I am really rocking in my car, just singing!!, and there is no rhythm there at all. It’s quite sad. You always knew it and tried to tell me that I didn’t get your dancing genes. Sometimes in church when I was little, we would clap along with the songs, and you would look at me and try to help me get on the beat. The best was the time that you told me a few years ago that you always felt so sorry for me at the JPC dances because I would be out there trying dancing with everyone else and I just couldn’t get it. You were right, I am not getting it but I really don’t care now because I can tell you what time it is in Bangkok as I listen to “Walk Like an Egyptian” and think of Skateland.

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Figures

One of my new volunteer projects is Memphis in May. Tonight was my first meeting and of course, would you believe that the country they are spotlighting this year is Costa Rica and the logo for the year has a huge frog on it. Every time I see anything with Costa Rica it reminds me of you and Daddy. It was the first time you left me!!!! And, maybe where you got Neall... So here I am, to spend from now until the end of May with frogs--that of course remind me of you-- and Costa Rica. Should be fun...

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You must have thought I had run away!

No, no, I am still here. I had a great vision for this email I wanted to write you about my expereince with Idlewild but I am still working on it. It is a biggie, I say. But hopefully I will finish it this weekend as I am going to have lots of time. Grandma fell and broke a vertebra and had another mini-stroke she is in the hosptial. Of course, Daddy is trying to do all he can but it is so hard for him. So, I am planning on going up tomorrow afternoon, spending some time with Grandma, John's band is playing in Little Rock Saturday night, so I will get a hotel room, visit again with Grandma on Sunday morning and then head back. Neall is going up this afternoon after work to meet up with Daddy. I hope this way, Daddy can go once or twice during the week and then next week we can do it again. As selfish as this sounds, I hope our Washington trip isn't affected, since I think it will be so good for daddy.

John got tickets again for the floor of the Grizzlies game and didn't want to go! How crazy is he? So, I took Tara. The girls sitting beside us left at the beginning of the fourth quarter, so I got their tickets and Dan and Natalie, who also were given tickets at work, came and sat on the floor with us during the fourth quarter. It was much fun. Here are the girls:

Everything else is toiling along as usual, I suppose. John is still driving me nuts, Work is always an experience, all the basics. I did see this article in the paper that they are looking for the most inspriational women in Memphis. Can you only guess who I nominated??? In case they don't select you on the technicality that you don't live in Memphis, here is what I sent them. I had to cut so much out since they only allowed it to be so long....

The most inspirational woman in my life never lived in Memphis but her impact has made its way to the Bluff City. Some of my earliest memories are of my mom caring for her mother as she suffered through a debilitating disease for twenty years. Vacations and trips were scheduled around arranging for a temporary caregiver, her best friends usually, and evenings and mornings always involved my brother and me tagging along as momma helped her mom do the most basic of tasks, including getting in and out of bed, into a chair for the day and of course, as every Southern woman knows, putting on lipstick. She would later go on to have a sense of guilt for missing out on a lot of our childhood but I know that through it all she taught us the most precious lesson of all: love. It is not always pretty and it is not always fun, sometimes it is just downright hard, unfair and messy, but through it all, it is precious and an inspiration.

I was a sophomore in college when my grandma left us. I remember hurting so much that I thought if I started to cry, I would never stop. Momma was heartbroken and told me “There is just something about losing your mom that never stops hurting”. But then over time, it was like she became a new person. All the years that she and Daddy stayed close to home to care for grandma, all the years of being there first thing in the morning, at lunchtime, and the last thing in the evening, and all the years of watching your inspiration and mentor suffer were gone. Momma shed some of her inhibitions that next year and just kept on throwing them off for the next ten years. She lost some weight, started buying clothes she liked (instead of my hand-me-downs), went on trips with her friends (forming the Traveling Buddies) and became a dynamic duo with Daddy. You would be hard pressed to find them at home on a weekend, whether it be going to the movies or to see the Hogs play, they were not ones to sit idly by. For years, Momma worked in the Wynne (AR) Public Schools, the majority of which at the high school library. Being around teenagers was good for her—and them—and gave her a chance to have fun everyday at work, something many of us never have the opportunity to do. The students loved her teasing and funny character and she never missed the chance to show out.

When her aunt moved into an assisted living facility, mom was right there in the thick of it all, stopping by to visit and cheer up the residents. She and her Red Hat friends would stop by—bringing hats for all of the ladies!—and sing Christmas carols or drop off candy or just visit. Being retired meant being seen and being exciting! Trips with the Traveling Buddies could be just a shopping visit to Memphis (where once she looked with at a salesperson with horror asking “what is that thing?” and the reply was “Ma’am, that’s a range, would you like me to show you how to use it?”) or the entire month of January spent in a beach house in Gulf Shores. Momma has taught me how to have the best of friends, how to love them and appreciate them for everything they are and everything they want to be, and how important it is that they know you love them. She has taught me how to enjoy friends that you only see occasionally and the friends of those you love, since all of them make a difference in your life.

Momma died at the beginning of 2006, only 41 days after she was diagnosed with a glioblastoma multiforme astrocytoma—a brain tumor. But every day she continues to inspire me and teach me. Her friends have become my friends and my support. My friends have become to see her as example for their lives—and our incredibly close relationship as something they want with their mothers. It’s unreal that the one word “friend” can be a mother, aunt or sister; someone your age, half your age, or twice your age; or it can be the one person who even though you know that there is no blood relation, you are convinced that you both share the same heart. So now, my pretty, fun, hard, unfair and messy love for her is the most precious inspiration of all.

There are stories and words that I could never tell you or anyone to show how inspriring you are to me and so many other people. No matter what, you are always right here,

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