Rated PG 13 - breasts and butts involved

Ok, I realize that I will probably get more viewers on this post than any others, but I am desperate for more followers on my blog! Just kidding - well kinda!

Anyhow, I am shocked that the calendar in my study says MARCH. Where did the beginning of the year go? Christmas break was fulfilling, but too short, then school started up again. One set of my parents moved to China in February and I was able to cross one more thing off my bucket list. I loved watching history come alive while trodding on the steps of the Great Wall of China. This is a place where thousands of Chinese men lost their lives building the wall in harsh conditions and under cruel political power! The wall is mammoth and reaches as far as the eye can see (which isn't too far in polluted Beijing). Nonetheless, it was an incredible time with my mom and step-dad as we completed many touristy things and I was able to fit in some professional development on the weekend to boot. Many more China adventures to come.

More recently - today was an unusual Saturday.

I woke up and begrudgingly headed to the doctor. My last visit to the hospital warranted some unfortunate news about finding a lump in my breast. This is the second lump that has been found in a year. Last February I was living in Bolivia and had to navigate through a sea of inefficiency and Spanish medical terms. It was a time of anxiousness and pain with mammograms and other invasive procedures. I was less than thrilled to find out I had to repeat the procedure here in Korea. Let me tell you, there are many things that Koreans do well, but GENTLENESS is not one of them.
All the women out there are shaking their heads as they KNOW where I am headed with this.....gentleness + mammogram = really uncomfortable procedure, but bearable with a glass of wine! Now, think of what it would be like going in sober, getting mangled by Cruella deVille AND having a language barrier added to the mix! Needless to say, there was cursing, stomping of feet, tears and more cursing!

I was fortunate in that after the procedure the results were to be sent down to the doctor within an hour. So I headed to my home away from home (ie. Starbucks) and did some major praying. I wasn't even sure what I was praying for. I have been healthy for most of my life and have had very few medical scares. Then I started to wonder if my clean bill of health is one reason why my faith is shaky at times...did I need to get sick to thoroughly trust God? I began to wonder and panic.

In the doctor's office she told me that I have a category 3 cyst. She saw the clueless look on my face and proceeded to explain. She said that it means that my cyst is 'probably benign.' I leaned in little closer to her and said in all seriousness, "Doctor those are two words that should never be used in the same sentence." She laughed and said, "No it means that there is less than 5% chance that the cyst will be cancerous, but that we should follow up in 6 months. I gulped as I thought about having to endure the booby-metal-vice-grip and then remembered that I had just received good news. "So you are saying that I have nothing to be worried about?" I asked. "Yes, you have nothing to worry about."

Feeling very relieved, I decided to go for a hike on my favorite mountain behind the school. If you have read any of my previous posts, you know that this is quickly becoming my place of solitude, my muse for writing and my anvil for embarrassment! I started my hike and quickly realized how muddy the trail was. I couldn't recall rain any time recently, then I remembered our unexpected snow day earlier in the week. Not paying much attention, and feeling drunk with good news, I quickened my pace. As you can expect, I took one step and then fell flat on my butt! That wouldn't be much of an issue, if that was where it stopped. Because it was muddy and due to the fact that I was hiking a mountain with a slope, I began to SLIDE down the mountain. Not slowly so that I can stop myself, but quick like SNOT so that my arms and legs are flailing!

Again, let me paint a picture for you. I am a WAYGOOK in Korea...similar to GINGRA in Spanish or FOREIGNER in English. I stick out like a sore thumb. I try not to let that stop me living life overseas, but I am a proud person and I can only handle a certain amount of stares! Once I finally stop tumbling, my butt is sore, my breasts are bruised and my ego is terribly wounded. I sit on the muddy ground and I just start whimpering. I am not crying...no, too many tears had already been shed that morning, I whimper! I thought about my day, I began to lick my wounds and feel sorry for myself and then I have that EPIPHANY.....THIS IS LIFE!

Bottom line - Life is hard sometimes! You are going to have those days where you feel confident about climbing the mountain, but an obstacle gets in your way. Those obstacles might be things you can merely jump over and continue along your merry way, but other times those trials are going to get you soiled and you might land on your butt. When that happens we have two choices: stay there and wallow, or get up, dust yourself off and hike up that mountain anyway! So, I did just that....I wallowed for a bit, then I wiped off as much mud as I could and continued to hike....Boy, was I a sight!

On this Saturday night I am reflecting on my day, the previous weeks, the past three months and I can say, sometimes being sore is a good thing!

Get comfortable being uncomfortable!

These are the words that Jillian Michaels is shouting at me as I am in a downward facing dog, abs tight, butt clinched, gasping for my next breath.

Jillian Michaels is most famously known for her 'SUCK IT UP' mentality on The Biggest Loser. She is one of those people who you either love or you hate. I am one that thinks she is somewhat annoying, but I am intrigued by her personality, so I purchased her Yoga Meltdown DVD while I was home for Christmas!

I have been trying this P90X program and one of the sessions calls for yoga. It is 90 full minutes of yoga! I am not one that can do many things for 90 full minutes, unless it is eating ice cream or watching a movie, so I set out to find something more my style. It is not that I am a yoga fanatic, quite the opposite, I am a yoga wanna-be! I have always been jealous of those people who can wrap themselves in a pretzel and still look graceful like they are sitting down for tea! The reason why I like this version of Yoga is that is it only 30 minutes long and quite simply that Jillian motivates me, "Get comfortable being uncomfortable!" I don't care how limber you are, you cannot tell me that those people who are practicing yoga and doing a back bend at 90 degrees are comfortable. You wanna know the difference between them and me? They have more practice at it!

Like anything in life, you are only uncomfortable in life for a season! The more you try that one thing, the more comfortable you become. If you only do it once, then YEAH, you are going to be uncomfortable!

The last four years for me have made me somewhat of a veteran in the area of uncomfortable-ness! I have moved to two new countries not knowing a soul prior to the move, I have jumped out of an airplane ON PURPOSE, I have gotten a cool nose stud to the price of 15 painful minutes, I have navigated my way around cities where I don't know the language and on those days when I just think I can't take any more UNCOMFORTABLE-NESS, I remember, get up and do it again and it will become comfortable!

Before I break my arm by patting myself on the back in this area, I need to be honest and admit that there is one area of my life that I have been comfortable with for way too long - my relationship with God!

I am reading a book by Francis Chan called Crazy Love. I was struck/convicted by this the other day. "Lukewarm people do not live by faith; their lives are structured so they never have to. They don't have to trust God if something unexpected happens - they have their savings account. They don't need God to help them - they have their retirement in place. They don't genuinely seek out what life God would have them live - they have life figured out and mapped out. They don't depend on God on a daily basis - their refrigerators are full and for the most part, they are in good health. The truth is, their lives wouldn't look much different if they suddenly stopped believing in God."

OUCH. This one hit home for me. For as much as I like to profess I am comfortable being UNcomfortable, this is a major flaw of mine. I fear that I live my life as a lukewarm Christian. I blame it on being a control freak and that is why I need to have everything in order, but the truth of the matter is, how much do I really trust God with my life? Do I trust him with my future mate, do I trust him with my future plans?

I am inspired by my yoga DVD and the advice from Jillian, but am I able/willing to apply this to all areas of my life? I want to get comfortable being uncomfortable with my walk with God. I want to welcome challenge and welcome those times where I have no other choice but to trust him.

Breathe deep and bring on more of the discomfort!

Dorothy, you are not in Kansas anymore!

Misty, you are not in Indiana anymore!
Just as Dorothy had to be reminded of the fact that she wasn't HOME, now that I am back in Seoul, South Korea, I too am well aware that I am far away from home!

I had a rich and meaningful time over the holidays! Family bonding over loads of home-cooked meals, sibling rivalry with card games and dominoes, much needed TLC with my nieces and nephew and good ol' fashioned laughter and catching up with some old and new friends!
The time home is never enough, but just like every close to a vacation, I put on my "big girl" panties and head back to the airport - destination - my home away from home!

It was a much needed 'shot in the arm' to be back home for the holidays. For the past two Christmas breaks I have traveled around South America - last year I was in Rio de Janiero, Brazil over the Christmas and New Year and the year before that I was basking in the beauty of Buenos Aires, Argentina - men included! I love to travel, but there is nothing better than coming home! This Christmas was special because my younger brother and sister and I were all together for the first time in three years. My mom made a comment about how she loved having her kids all under the same roof....then I think right after she said that, we started wrestling with each other and arguing over the remote control! :) I was able to enjoy some quality time with my Dad and step-mom and they spoiled me with new luggage and times out in the city of Lafayette to see the rest of my family. I always love being in Cincinnati because I have friends that treat me like a celebrity. There are parties thrown in my honor and it is so good to catch up with those wonderful relationships.

I have been a bit homesick in Korea and I think it is so cool how God works sometimes. For those of you who don't know, my mom and my step-dad will be moving to Beijing, China in February! It is a two year commitment and my step-dad would be the project manager for his job. My step-dad is in his 60's and my mom will forever be 29 years old - her words, not mine! They have 13 grand-kids, family close by, a wonderful church home and they have a great support of friends and family there in Indiana. I am awe of their adventurous spirit. My step-dad was keen to the idea of moving to China since he is an overseas consultant and this move would help him with his Chinese relations and also with his business in general. My mom, on the other hand, was a little apprehensive at first. She didn't want to leave her grand-kids and was worried about life in Asia! She prayed about it for a bit and then told Wayne that she supports him and quote, "I can do ANYTHING for two years."

Sometimes I wonder about my wandering life. I seem to be discontent with staying in one place for too long. I have always had a gypsy lifestyle and have never placed too much importance on roots or settling down. Not that I don't want to settle down, I am just afraid of growing complacent no matter where I am in the world. I look at my friends and family and realize that I am the outcast. I am the only one that is NOT following the 'norm' of getting married, buying a house and having 2.5 kids. I have always wondered why I have this DISEASE.

Having done the overseas thing for a while I have had time to reflect. Now, I don't think that my vagrant lifestyle is a disease, but instead it is a mindset. I hate the fact of waking up one day and realizing that I have nothing else to learn. For as much as I like to think I am never wrong, I know that I can always improve. It isn't so much that I am discontent with my location, but discontent with ever being too content. Now, I know there is a fine line here....we need to be content in all circumstances, it is biblical. But it is also the words of Jesus that tell us to grow up, grow in faith, grow closer to Christ. GROW is the key word here. We are never suppose to get to the point where we say, I am done growing. I enjoy growing, bottom line! This is evidenced in my life in obvious ways like picking up and moving to South America when I didn't know a single soul or then moving from what is familiar in South America to things that are completely foreign in South Korea. My desire to grow in also apparent through obscure actions such as making GRAND New Years Resolutions every year and never keeping them past March. Another way I continue to grow is through my numerous collections of work out DVD's and programs. I attempted Insanity in September and now have moved on to P90X. I am hoping to commit to the 90 days, but we will see how it goes with THIS growth process.

My point in all the rambling is that I now know where I get it - It is in my BLOOD. My dad went back to college in his 40's and worked a full time job and received his degree. My step-mom is now doing the same thing - working full time and taking college classes for her degree. My sister has decided on a career change later in life and is working and going to school full time WHILE raising three kids. My mom and step-dad are picking up and moving from everything they hold dear and are entering a VERY foreign territory. They are willing to be submersed in the culture, the language and the rhythm of Beijing, China - WHY? Because they don't want to ever grow complacent. They know they will grow from this experience. They will grow closer in their marriage, they will grow more aware of other cultures and people and they will grow on a personal level that maybe only those two will ever talk about. I LOVE the fact that my mom and my step-dad are only going to be a two hour flight away, but more importantly, I am thankful that I am not the only one that chooses to BLOOM or (GROW) WHERE I AM PLANTED!

Teaching and tears

I am a sap. I like to say I am emotional, but others might refer to me as a crybaby. My mom has some funny parenting stories about my sister and me. My sister is a solid rock when it comes to emotion and I can count on one hand the amount of times I have seen her cry. When we would get in trouble and we were spanked, she would grit her teeth, but she would never shed a tear. When my mom was angry at me, all she had to do was tell me she was disappointed and I was a ball of gooey mess whimpering at her feet. I cry at everything - really. I have seen the movie Steel Magnolias at least 20 times and I swear I cry like a baby every time the graveyard scene happens. I know Julia Roberts is going to die, I expect it and I know what is about to happen when Sally Fields is walking by the gravesite. Yet, there is something about pure emotion that gets to me every time. Talk about war, or someone's loss, the love of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, or fighting for one's honor - just get out the Kleenex box because I am a blubbering mess.

The tears come from emotion. I can't stand to see someone crying alone because I know they are hurting. There is raw emotion taking place and it just triggers my sympathetic tear ducts. Another way to trigger my emotions is to mention teaching. My job is important to me and yes, I am one of those teachers that owns the inspirational calendar that talks about the impact a teacher has. I have an apple on my desk and I love it that my Mom thought of me when she saw printed on the apple, "Teachers make a difference." Why the water works you ask? Because teaching is my JOB, teaching is my PURPOSE and as my Daddy always said, "there is no use doing something if you are only going to do it half ass!" My dad was never one to mix his words! :)

In order for a teacher to do their job well they MUST establish some type of student rapport. If the students trust you, then you can teach. If you can teach knowing they trust you, then they can learn. If they learn, you feel valued. If you feel valued, you work harder at becoming a better teacher....and the cycle continues.

Coming here to Korea, I have been a novice at pretty much everything. How does the subway system work? How can I get access to the school gym, how do I fill out a copy request form, and most importantly, how can I begin to get to know these 45 students that will be like my children over the next ten months? Not only am I sappy, but I am also impatient. When I want something to happen, I want it to occur YESTERDAY. Moving to Korea, I just wanted something to be familiar and I desperately wanted my students and I to have this outstanding connection right from the start. I wanted the student rapport to happen on day ONE.

Building rapport with students takes time. It takes time, energy, countless hours and attention to small details - details of a hormonal teenager.
So, over the past three months I have begun the task of diving into the world of a teenager. I have joked with them about their nicknames. I have celebrated successes in their writing and I have made them OWN their high test scores by strutting around the room like a peacock. I have congratulated them when they are running cross country. I have bandaged them when they cut their finger. I have asked them about their favorite instrument, their pet hedgehog and where they were born. I have given them animal crackers before or after a hard test. I have talked about their siblings and the new I Phone. We have swaped silly bands and I have consoled them when they are dealing with middle school drama. Slowly, but surely I have developed a connection with them.

Even though I have been teaching for six short years, I still get teary when it comes to students. Just the other day a student says to me, "Miss Skidmore, can I stay in your room for a bit?" I respond, "Sure, but why?" They say, "Because your room is warm and cozy and I like being here." Sniff, sniff. I let them in and smile to myself and then get out the Kleenex box. "Miss Skidmore, are you OK?" the student asked. "Yes," I replied, "just allergies."

I hope I NEVER outgrow my tear ducts!

Lost in translation

While living in Korea I have had a hard time with the language. I do not speak Korean other than the simple phrases like "Hi" or "thank you". When you are living in a big city and wanting to be independent, those two words don't get you very far. I have had some funny situations lately where either me or the person I was talking to left speechless or laughing hysterically.

Down on the farm -

One weekend some of my girlfriends and I decided to hit up the Drum Festival here in Seoul. It was a huge success complete with drum groups from Mexico, England and Korea showing off their thumping rhythm and loud costumes. We took the subway to the park, but it was late when the festival ended so we decided to take a taxi back to the school. This can be a bit troublesome if the taxi driver does not understand the accent of the WAY GOOKS (Korean for foreigners). When we all piled into the taxi we told him where we wanted to go. He looked at us and repeated the same thing we said. We respond with NEH (Yes, in Korean) and he starts laughing uncontrollably. This is not so unusual for me....I have been laughed at many times for my attempts speaking a foreign language. We look at each other and decide to try again. He repeats what we just said for the second time and starts driving. We assume he knows where he is going so we relax. Then he begins speaking in Korean and laughing out loud - cackling as a matter of fact. We start laughing as well and soon we are talking to him in English telling him we don't know why he is laughing. THEN, he starts clucking like a chicken! No lie, people! Believe me, this would be a hard story to fabricate! As he is making his clucking sound I say "CHICKEN" in English. He laughs again and then he starts to MEOW! At this point all of us girls are just howling with laughter because we think our taxi driver has gone mad! We then repeat in English the word "CAT" and we start meowing with more intensity. It went on like this a couple more times with him making a "MOO" sound and us supplying the appropriate label of a farm animal. He was so happy and just enjoying himself and I guess I got a little carried away. I decided to switch it up a bit and I made an animal noise and barked. I was in the back seat and I said, "WOOF!" All of the sudden complete silence. I looked at the taxi driver and said it again, "Woof." He looked back at me and looked straight ahead in complete silence. The girls in the taxi were loving this and were laughing so hard they almost wet themselves. I am intrigued as to why the animal loving taxi driver is not responding to my dog calls. I try again for the third time and I bark in the back seat. The taxi driver then turns and gives me a dirty look! We drive with him not saying anything until he dropped us off at our destination. We pile out of the car and he said goodbye with a sheep salutation, "Baaaaaaah" - we rolled out of the taxi with our sides in stitches! Best taxi ride to date!

Blonde Ding Dong -

Since I have Korean on the mind and I am consciously trying to remember how to say things in Korean rather than letting my Spanish take over, I often times get confused and switch back and forth from English/Spanish and the occasional Korean. At church, I am talking to some girls in my small group. We are discussing what it is like being new to Korea and they were asking me where I live. I told them I live on campus at Seoul Foreign School and I said I live in Yonhi Dong. For those of you non-native Koreans "dong" means neighborhood. I had a good time with this when I first arrived because I live in D buidling on campus and it is commonly known as D dong. So, my friends at home have affectionately called me a Ding Dong! Not nice, but somewhat humorous.

Anyhow, we are talking at church and this guy comes up and joins our conversation. We start talking about where we live and he turns to me and asks my location. I tell him about my neighborhood and then without thinking I say, "Where is your dong?"

There was silence for about 10 full seconds and I contemplated running away to the nearest exit.....then all of us burst out laughing - including the guy whom I asked about his dong.

I think I will still show up to church next Sunday, but I plan on sitting in a different place, maybe I won't see him again EVER!

Moon cakes and Hong Kong

It has been a while since my last blog entry and my only excuse is that life happens. We get busy and we find other things to fill our time. For me, it has been vacation time followed by "catch up" time followed by more "catch up" time.

When I arrived at SFS I knew there was a one week holiday that would be quickly approaching in September. The holiday is called Chuseok and it is Korean for "great middle". It is a three day holiday that occured (this year) on a Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. It is held during autumn and is a celebration of the good harvest. Traditionally, Koreans visit their homeland, pay respect to the spirit of their ancestors and partake in traditional Korean food. I was excited to learn about this holiday, but a little bummed when I found out I would not be celebrating Chuseok in Korea. Instead my school decided to send me to a professional development conference in southern China. The conference was taking place over the weekend and then we had the rest of the week free; so my friend and I decided to take advantage of this travel opportunity and head to Hong Kong.

In China they have a very similar holiday called the Harvest moon and in short, it is similar to a Western Thanksgiving, but with MOON CAKES. When I think of Thanksgiving there is the sweet aroma of freshly carved turkey, my mouth is watering from the smell of apple pie and my ears tingle when I hear the mixer battering the potatoes to make the fluffy, heavenly goodness called MOM'S MASHED POTATOES. There are freshly baked rolls, honey-glazed ham, sweet potato casserole and there is even a seven layer salad, which in my mind is just silly to serve at Thanksgiving...who has time to waste on lettuce and peas and other things that are good for you? The one thing that does NOT exist at my Thanksgiving celebration is fruit cake. You know what I am talking about, that gift that weighs about 35 pounds and is only given as a Christmas gift to those "friends" that really are not your friends. It tastes dry and has food items in there that should never go together in any normal kitchen. Well, in China for the Harvest moon festival, my friend I found moon cakes. Don't let the outside appearance fool you....Yes, she looks more attractive than a fruit cake, but just take a gander at the ingredients that go into this puppy.

•Filling:
•1 pound red azuki beans
•water
•3/4 cup lard or oil
•1-3/4 cups sugar
•Water-Shortening Dough:
•2 cups flour
•5 tablespoons lard
•10 tablespoons water
•1/4 teaspoon salt
•Flaky Dough:
•1 cup flour
•5 tablespoons lard
•red food coloring for design

Do you notice that the word LARD is used THREE times in this receipe? And the only other substantial ingredient is BEANS. The picture above is a special moon cake and has an EGG YOLK directly in the center. Yummy!

Even though we were not impressed with the moon cakes, the rest of the trip deemed to be a great adventure. Hong Kong is a massive city and is actually located on an island. We were lucky enough to be flying to Hong Kong at the exact same time as a typhoon. Deperate to not let the rain and torrential downpour damper our moods we set out on the Kowloon side and began to make our contribution to the Hong Kong economy. We were pampered with foot massages, we had some traditional Chinese food and we ate in restaurants that seemed, for all other purposes, to be a wedding reception. We visited the dragon festival, we toured the city and checked out the nightlife and we got massages. One one particular rainy day we decided to get a full body massage. We made up our mind where we wanted to go and walked into a cute little building that was hidden on the third floor along the second wall in the fifth cubicle of the 203rd building on that street. Hong Kong is known for its efficiency and the amount of businesses they can fit is one area is impressive. We walk up the skinny stairs and notice a sign that says, "No sex, please." Well, at least they are polite. :)

We are ready for our pampering and are shown our room and we notice a small area that is no bigger than my kitchen in Korea. We exchange glances with each other wondering how we are both going to fit in there along with the women that will be working on us. We decide to give it a shot - it is an adventure after all. Once inside I ask Rebecca if she is going to leave on her skivies or just strip down - it really is different in all countries so I wanted to know what to do. She said she was going to stay in her bare essentials so I decided to do the same. I was changing into my robe and I noticed a tiny piece of cloth with elastic. I looked at it and said, "Look Rebecca, they gave us something to use so we can hold our hair back." I have the cloth thingy over my head with the elastic behind my ears. She turns around and starts laughing histerically. She holds up her version of tiny cloth-elastic thingy and I notice it looks an awful lot like a thong. The lightbulb finally goes off and I quickly rip the thong-headband off my head and away from my face just in time for the ladies to come in and give us our massage. I think they were giggling and I am pretty sure I saw one of them shake their head, but I can't be sure because I tucked my head down on the table and dreamed away all my cultural faux pas. Oh Hong Kong, good memories!

Raisins and Giggles - in memory of my brother Jake

It was Labor Day in Indiana and the entire family was at our house...My grandma and grandpa were in the living room talking about the apples that were growing in their front yard, my aunt and uncle were in the dining room talking to my dad about the latest car he was trying to restore, and I was in the kitchen with my mom because I was starving and the mashed potatoes smelled heavenly. My sister and my brother were out riding their bikes trying to get all their restless energy out before lunch - then the phone rang....

I was the closest one to the phone so I answered instinctively as any teenage girl would do. My sister was on the other end in hysterics. "Jake has been hit by a car.." was all she kept repeating. "What?" My mind was racing, "Tara, calm down," was my response and then I saw my mom drop what she was doing in the kitchen and run out of the house - it was as if there was this maternal instinct and my mom KNEW something was wrong.

Today is September 7th, 2010. Twenty - three years ago today my younger brother Jake was killed in a drunk driving accident. I was 14 years old, my younger sister was 11, Troy was 4 months old and Jake was only 9. He was riding his bike with my sister and two other neighbor kids and he was hit and killed instantly. The driver had a blood alchohol level of twice the legal limit. That day is forever etched into my memory and the memory of my family.

Usually on this day I am surrounded by my family and friends. We sometimes will speak of the incident that changed our lives, but even if we don't, we are there for each other. Today, as I am millions of miles away from my family, at a new school, in a new city, I find myself wanting to reflect and wanting to REMEMBER him.

Jake was a vibrant, blonde-haired, blue eyed boy who would smile by placing his tongue on his upper teeth. Jake loved to eat raisins - they were a part of almost every meal that he had. There was a special drawer at my grandma and granpa's house that was designated just for Jake's raisins - for as far back as I can remember - I never saw that drawer empty. Jake also did not have a laugh, Jake only giggled. It wasn't a girlish giggle, it was this sound that came from pure and unadultered happiness.

Jake was this ray of sunshine that only wanted to fish with my dad, cuddle with my mom and play softball or basketball with his older sisters.

Jake loved to go camping and when we were younger we owned a trailer that we would pack up and haul to the nearest campsite. For an entrie weekend we would hike on trails, make smores by the campfire and sleep under the stars in our sleeping bags. Jake loved it so much that there were times that he wanted to go camping, but it was a Tuesday and my mom would explain that we can't go camping in the middle of the week. One time, on a school night, my mom set up our little pup tent in the back yard and Jake, my sister and I packed some cookies, a flashlight and our pillows and relished our little adventure. We had all of the ambiance of camping, but we also knew that mom and dad were inside the house only four feet away. :)

Many times over the past 23 years I have asked God, "WHY?" WHY was his life cut short, WHY was I not able to have more time with him, WHY did it destroy my family as much as it did, WHY him, not me, WHY does it still hurt? Even after all this time, there is no answer. I can question, I can live in the land of "what if.." and I can be angry at God for this tragedy that happened to my family....OR, I can understand that I DON'T have all the answers NOR do I have to have all the answers. I know that God does not give us more than we can handle and even though there were times that I was convinced that I couldn't handle this loss, God knew better.

People grieve in different ways - Most of my family does not talk about Jake and the life that we had with him for those short years, but I am different...

I love to talk about my younger brother, I love to remember funny times or the nights spent camping in the back yard, I love to write about my brother and talk to my friends about the way he was curious or the way he adored my father and mother. My grief is best spent by remembering my brother through words, thoughts and writing - this will never change. So, the next time you are around me during the month of September, please ask about my brother...and then sit with me and grab a cup of coffee because I can talk about him for hours.