When the Words Won't Come.....

I sit here this morning,
a day before the two-year Joplin tornado anniversary,
and my heart is completely broken for the town of Moore, Oklahoma.

We rushed to the basement last night when the sirens blared here.
We hunkered down and watched the radar
and checked facebook
and poured over our phones
and flipped through news channels on the tv
and listened to the sirens go off two more times.

Then, when we had an "all-clear",
We calmly
safely
easily
dry-ly
cleanly
walked out of the basement.

Everything was fine here.

Completely fine.

But as I stood outside later that evening...
and looked at the super pink sky reflecting off the strangely patterned clouds....

It was very hard to feel any relief.

All I could feel was a sick sick wrenching in my stomach.

I remember when the skies had lightened May 22, 2011.
I remember looking around and thinking.....
well.....
maybe I wasn't really even capable of thought at that point.

But I remember a feeling of incredulity
mixed with fear
mixed with gratitude
mixed with nausea
mixed with relief
mixed with desperation
mixed with sadness
mixed with panic
mixed with confusion
mixed with exhaustion.

I think I know how the people in Moore were feeling right then.
I remember....and I find no relief in my safety.

Right now they are running on pure adrenaline.
They are frantically trying to find some way....
however small....
to uncover some kind of piece of "normal".

Something that can serve as a type of cornerstone to attach their spinning-out-of-control lives to RIGHT NOW.

It might be an intact dinner plate.
Or a neighbor.
Or a pet.
Or a picture in a cracked frame.

Something that can serve as an anchor....
irregardless of how small...
to a sense of what WAS just 12 hours ago.

What I can NOT imagine is this.
Learning that the child you have so frantically searched for....
is now on the other side of heaven.

I know how it feels to be scared that you child (and nephew) could be gone.
I know how it feels to have people searching for them.
I even know how it feels to loose the ability to pray actual words....and just cry out from the most hollow empty scary place deep inside, "GOD....GOD" because all you can say is His name.

But my arms were eventually filled with the precious living squirming crying beautiful filthy bodies of two 7 year olds.

Oh my heart.

Father,
God,
I know that You are with your children in Oklahoma.
I know You have stayed by their sides and are there now...even if it is hard for them to feel You.
Please, Lord...help them feel Your presence.
And for those who can't find the strength or words to pray right now....
I thank You that You hear the cries of their hearts.  
For them I pray....
Heal the hurt.
Keep the rescuers safe.
Strengthen the parents and families searching and mourning.
You make beautiful things out of the ashes....
and even thought they can't see that right now...
Help them feel the strength that comes from the hope of that.
In Christ's name....
Amen.

This Day...

Two years ago on this day I was sitting on a beyond beautiful tropical beach.
It was the first more-than-three-nights vacation that RH and I had taken since the whole "we had three kids what in the heck happened to our lives?!?!?!" episode had occurred.

I am sure we had a really amazing time....
But truthfully?

Neither of us can really remember it at all.

You see...
We came in a day late (and several dollars short) due to a delay caused by some nasty storms in the area.

We didn't arrive home until the evening of May 21st.
The next day as we tried to celebrate our eldest son's birthday we had yet another event.
This one pretty much wiped every relaxing memory out of our heads.


Two years ago.

Wow.

I guess I can comprehend that.
I mean....so so so so much has happened since then.

We demo'd a house/bought a house/sold a lot/sold a house/bought a house.
My youngest started kindergarten.
We moved several times in search of home.
We got a new dog.
My eldest started (ahhhh!) middle school.
We had many birthdays.
RH turned....well....older.
I had heart surgery.
My dad had back surgery.
I consumed 2,318 concretes from Shakes.

Time must have passed to pack so much in!

But on the other hand....
It's hard to believe that it's been two whole years.

Some of the memories are still so very very vivid in my mind.
Some of the emotions are still much closer to the surface than I suspected they would be at this point.

Yesterday I ran in the Joplin Memorial Run.
It was really a super event and there were TONS of people participating....so cool to see!

Last year I was worried that I would be so emotional it might be hard for me to run.
It was hard....but pretty much just because of the horrible blistering straight from the depths of down below heat and sun.
There were a few "oh wow" moments....but mostly it was just trying to get through the 13 miles of asphalt from hades running.

This year I went into the race pretty much just concerned with how un-properly-trained I was for this.
I hoped I wouldn't let my running partner down by crawling the last few miles.

However.
However.

As we jostled about in the starting corral they released 161 balloons and called for 161 seconds of silence to honor the 161 people who had died from that storm.

(And I thought about how very easily two 7 year olds and my aunt and uncle could have made 4 more balloons.)

Then they told the story about the young lady who sang the national anthem; how she had been working in the pharmacy that was completely leveled and how frantically her parents had been searching for her.

(And I remembered seeing the pharmacy after the storm and the sick feeling of not knowing where my child was .)

Then they introduced the woman who officially "started the race" and she told the story of how she had rushed her mother (who didn't make it) to the hospital and her mother said, "Don't worry about me....whatever happened God has it under control."

(And I remembered telling God that I knew he loved my son and nephew even more than me and that He knew what was best for them and I handed them over to His big 'ol hands.)

Then we started.
And we ran.
And we looked at the names on the banners.
And I said to my running partner, "Hey...remember that name?  That's the baby who...."
And she said, "Stop.  I can't."

And we ran.
And we came to the part of the town where the trees disappear.
And we didn't say anything.

And we ran.
Then we walked because it was hot.
And we finished.

And I ran into my friend Tiffany, who told me how emotional it had been for she and her husband....and we both teared up.

And I went home to my intact amazing family in my whole safe house.

Wednesday is the official two year anniversary of the tornado.

Today is the "same day" in the fact that it's Sunday and Joplin High School is having its graduation ceremony.

Today we have horrible storms predicted for our area after five o'clock.
Hail, thunderstorms, tornadoes and such.

Today everyone is posting deja vu's all over facebook.

Today I checked my emergency kit in the basement to make sure it was stocked.

Today one of my good friends and her hubby are coming to stay the night because they don't have a basement and they got totally blown away two years ago.

Today.

Two years ago.

A lifetime.

A moment.

Truth?

God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.
He has His plans....and I am grateful.
So so so so so grateful.

Am I nervous?
Well....yeah.
A little.
I thought I wasn't....but a rumble of thunder made my stomach twist so I guess I must be.

Am I freaking out?
Not yet.

Just being prepared. 
Thanking God for warnings and perspective and a basement.

So I will try and ignore the fact that my usually calm and somewhat lazy dog is nervously pacing around me in circles.

I will sit down with my family and friends and have dinner.

I will tuck my kids into bed and crack my window so I can hear the sirens if need be.

And I will continue to praise God.

I may be praising Him as I run to the basement....but I will praise Him!

Que Tiempo Hace?

Bennett has a Spanish test today and is "quizzing" the younger two on his vocabulary words.

(Don't know that they're learning a heck of a lot....but all is peaceful so I'm staying away!)

As they munch their cereal Bennett is giving LOTS of hints because his siblings truly have no clue what the answers might be.

"Hace viento" (translates as "It's windy") asks the teacher.

(silence)

"Hmmm..... "Hace Viento" after the tornado," tries the teacher again.

"DESTROYED!  It means destroyed!"  shouts the teacher's brother.

"No, Ethan....it means windy....but you're right anyway."

And the quizzing continues.
And I am the only one who pauses.
And life goes on.

Goin' Back to Normal...

Last week I sent in my final batch of receipts to the insurance company.
22 months.
Twenty. Two.
It has been almost two years since I began thislife force draining long process.

I have confirmation that they received it....and all that needs to happen now is for them to realize that they can NOT depreciate my already depreciated items again.

I wish I didn't have to fight this battle....I'm tired.
But...I'll fight it if I gotta.

The worst that will happen is that we'll be out a bunch of money....money that we've paid this company in on-time premiums faithfully over the last umpteen years....but hey.

It's not salvational.

There seems to be a very fine line between trying to be a good steward and getting criminally charged with harassment of an insurance agent.

Ah well.

Gotta tell you that when I got the "We got them and you're done" email from my agency I truly felt like I could stand up straight for the first time in....well.....possibly 22 months??

All of my storm related responsibilities (other then the harassment) are done.

We've been in our new place for 6 months and it's starting to feel "homey":
I know what some many most of the light switches do....
I can pull into the garage without whacking my side mirrors....
My kids can walk to the bathroom in the middle of the night (usually) without slamming into door frames....
The first "round" of light bulbs has burnt out and I now know how to undo each fixture and replace them...
The kids have memorized our new address...

More than anything else though....we've begun to have "gatherings" here again.
Filling our house with people makes it homefaster than anything else.

We've had parties and dinners and Young Life and meetings and birthdays and Wyldlife and holidays....and each time I have to tell someone where the forks are located or find (or buy) extra towels  or figure out where to set up the dinner buffet...

I get more comfortable.
This house becomes more mine.

So---the question.

Are we "over it"?
Has that bizarre little incident from almost two years ago melted down into a vague experience that I can look back on as nothing but a blessing for the new perspectives it has give us?

Yes.
And no.

Yes....because when I speak about it (as it still seems I'm asked to do at LEAST once a week by random people) I always conclude by expressing my EXTREME gratefulness that God gave us a beautiful perspective change without letting anything really bad happen.

And when a well-wisher expresses sympathy about our old house....I tell them very sincerely that the house was NOTHING without the people in it....and those we have.


And I mean that!

These are truly the things I have taken out of this experience and hold close to my heart.

But then "Tornado Awareness Week" comes on TWC and simulated tree trunks pierce through the exterior wall of a computer home....
and I get shaky for a minute.

Or my eldest chooses his experience with the tornado as the topic for his essay on "When God Became Really Real to Me" and I proof read it for him.  And have to pretend I'm coughing so he won't see me crying.

Or I drive down a street still devoid of living trees and the kids point out a bumper wrapped around a lifeless tree trunk and my stomach lurches.

Or my dentist asks me when I chipped my tooth and I tell him May 22 two years ago and he smiles sadly and pats my arm and I irritatingly have to fight back tears in the dumb dentist chair.

Or RH has to ask me for the 739th time to PLEASE get the rest of the stuff out of the warehouse where it's been stored for TWENTY TWO months.  And I realize that I'm putting it off not because "I haven't' used the stuff in two years so I probably don't need it" (like I tell everyone) but because I HATE HATE HATE HATE smelling the old insulation and seeing such a huge messed-up-garage-sale-reject-looking-pile of my "old" life smashed together into a dark corner of a dark building.

So...yes and no, right?

Is it in the top 14 things on my mind every day?

No.

Does it still rise to #4 or #6 a few times each week?

Yes.

And again....I know it's not just me.

Bennett's teacher talked to me today about how hard it is for her to drive through "tornado alley"...which is the path the storm took through the city.

Several friends have spoken to me about how nervous they are with spring coming....and the storms that usually accompany it.

They hygienist cleaning my teeth proceeds to tell me her "story" while I'm stuck with my mouth wide open sitting in the chair and she gets teary.

Healing.
We're healing healing healing as a city....but we're not HEALED.

Or maybe we're as healed as we're gonna be...and all these things are just part of the new normal.
The normal that's now not so new....or something.

Here's (I think) a good summer-upper.

That "Where should you go in a tornado" segment came on a-flippin-gain last night.

RH asked Ethan, "Where's the safest place in a tornado?"
Ethan said he didn't know.
"In God's arms."
"Yeah....not in a brown truck in the back seat," said my sagacious 9-year old.

Then RH told his son that if a tornado came he should pray....but he should pray as he was running like a bat out of hades to the basement.

A little common sense, a lot of prayer, some humor and a ton sprinkle of Shake's... and we should make it through.

Happy June!

It may be impossible for me to explain how very happy I am that it is now June.

Seriously.

I can't tell you (but I'm gonna try) how thrilled I am that May is OVER.

While I don't want to wish time away....
or hurry through the moments that God has blessed me with....
In all honesty???
May 2011-May 2012 was not exactly my favorite period of time.

I'm kinda ready for a "re-do".

I'm looking forward to a summer that IS SUMMER....
not one that was....well....this post may best explain what last summer was/wasn't/was/wasn't.

I'm looking forward to catching fireflies with my kids...
to staying up super late and missing much needed sleep because I choose to....
to remembering which days are for tennis and which are for swim team....
to not showing up at the wrong venue 2-3 times a week....
to remembering all the ingredients (at once) for homemade ice cream....
to checking some things off our "what we WANT to do" list....
to being excited to come home at the end of a weekend getaway.

And speaking of "home".....

We're making some serious progress on our "forever place".
There is paint on the walls and tile going down on the floor.
It actually looks more like a house than a disastrous tangled wire pit of total chaotic dust-ridden despair construction zone right now.

And that's good.
Real good.

Our official move date is (hopefully) set for September 1st....but everyone is telling me that it could me much sooner than that.

All of the wonderful kind people in my life are so thrilled for us....and they keep asking me if I'm so excited to be at this point of "transition".

(Now here comes the point of my post where I am afraid I sound like a spoiled rotten ungrateful horrible brat....when I am actually incredibly grateful and know my blessings are obvious but am simply being honest because SO MANY of my "displaced" friends have admitted feeling the exact same way to me and I hope to perhaps normalize this feeling a bit by publicly admitting it and confronting the emotional contradictions.....make sense? )

I don't think "excitement" is the best word to describe my feelings.

I've been racking my computer's thesaurus brain for a good word and here's the best I can come up with:

Anticipatory Relief.

(Yes...it's two words....a "term" really but let's not get technical....please.)

I am really looking forward to being DONE.
I am really looking forward to being SETTLED.

To be specific.....
...to unpacking that last room in the warehouse and seeing once and for all if certain things are actually gone or have been waiting patiently for me in insulation filled cardboard boxes.
... to my kids having a place to unpack their "treasures" and see that some of their old life is still around.
...to framing some photos (that had been lost and I have re-ordered) and putting them out where I can see them.
...to buying bathroom towels that match and are in a color I like.
...to changing the address on my driver's license and sending out "change of address" cards.
...to putting things where I want them instead of just using them from where they landed when they came out of a big black garbage bag last June.
....to being DONE and SETTLED.

Now believe you me....I KNOW that "things" (or even walls and a roof) don't make a home.
I know very well that anything tangible (and I mean anything) can be taken away from you in 72 seconds flat.
I know that the only dependable constant in my family's life is God....and that if we aren't centered around Him we're simply stumbling along on sinking sand.

I promise.
I know this.
I know know know know this.
I knew this last year....and I know it now.

But here's a truth I have learned about myself this year...
I want a home base.
Not a temporary one....but a permanent one.

Maybe it's because I'm a stay at home mom.
Because I'm a homemaker.
Because I'm a girl.
I know it's not because I like picking wall colors and flippin' fixture shapes....because those decisions are driving me freakin' batty.

Whatever the reason....God wired me to feel and work best from a "homey home"....and that's just how it is.

Small disclaimer:
((On the flip side.....
If I felt like God was calling us to make a move....
To become more transitory as a family....
To uproot and travel around doing His work until He told us (if ever) to stop and rest....
I think I could totally do that.
Because the difference would be this:
First of all I would have had the opportunity to CHOOSE to make that lifestyle change.
Secondly....it would be our new life....not some temporary "on hold" business until things became settled again.
But I certainly don't feel like God's nudging me toward a gypsy style missionary life.
If I'm wrong...I will gracefully certainly accept correction.))

Sure....I know this has been an awesome refining experience for me.
That being said....I really hope I've learned what I should and it's almost over.

So let's stop the rambling.

Let me quote a friend of mine in a great articlerecently written about Joplin:

"This is an opportunity we never asked for....but can't afford to waste."

I get to essentially create a home that will be custom-ly perfect for my family of five.
What an opportunity!
I can put outlets in places that I've only DREAMED of!
I can add insulation between my kids' rooms so they don't wake each other!
I can have a fireplace that turns on with a light switch!

And YES I am so happy about the house that we are creating!

But.....
I didn't want to move.
I liked my house.
I loved my neighborhood.
I really miss my neighbors and my "old" life.

I have an opportunity to create a home that my family will enjoy for the rest of our.....forever.
I thought we would have enjoyed our old home forever.

So I look at the dusty newly textured walls in our new house.
I picture where the Christmas tree will go.
I imagine the kids sitting at the soon-to-be installed breakfast bar watching TV.
I try to find the right furniture for the room---and isn't it cool to be able to purchase furniture that actually fits a room instead of trying to fit your old stuff into a different space?--and try not to wince when I think of how our old couch/rug/table/lamp/whatever would have looked in a certain spot.

I want to live in this house.
I like this house.
I know we will be so comfortable there.
I realize how incredibly unbelievable blessed I am to have this opportunity.

I don't think I've explained this very well.
Let me try one more time.

When I am picking out a design for a bookshelf at the house....
I am not "excited" about changing a wall into something different....
But I am hopefully and gratefully anticipating howgood it will feel to see my things settled on those shelves.

When I am walking out a potential fence line in the backyard....
I am not "excited" about creating a fenced space for our dogs.....
But I am happily anticipating how good it will be to not have to worry about that anymore.

When we are moved and settled.....
I will feel relief.
This chapter will close....and the next will begin.

Chapters...and season....must be experienced.
Thank God they have endings.

And we're close to the next chapter....
And when we get there....
Come on over.

I am going to be on the back porch enjoying a big mug of tea.

Or a wedding cake concrete from Shake's.

The Longest Year...

It's been a year.

How can that be?

I'm sure it's only been a week or two.....or maybe it's been 8 or 9 years.

It's so raw....but such another-lifetime-ago.

The week after the tornado I was on extreme autopilot.
I honestly remember maybe about 20% of that time period.
One thing I do recall is lying in my mom's guest bed on one of those endless sleepless nights and realizing that I HAD to somehow process what had happened to me.

I seem to do this best by writing things.

But...
I didn't have a computer,
Or a phone,
Or enough brain cells to spell my name.

Then at some point my mom found her old laptop and I rigged up some weird shouldn't-have-worked connection to the Internet...

...and I wrote.

Over the past year I have looked at my "story" every now and then.....
But haven't been able to read more than a few lines at once.

Today I decided it was time.

And I read it.

And I started shaking.
And crying.
And remembering so so vividly.

I will heal....
I am really almost there.
This city will heal...
It's come so far.

But here's the thing....

Even when healing has occurred.....a scar remains.

And anyone who has ever had a significant scar knows that....
They are sore at first.
Tender.
They hurt when we touch them.
Yet we occasionally feel the need to probe them to "test" the healing process....
and we feel the pain again.
Yes...it's less than the original injury....
but it still hurts.
But with each day/week/month/anniversary that passes....the tenderness lessens....
Until eventually only a memory of the pain surfaces.

Joplin has scars.

Some are visible....like the monstrous hulk of St John's hospital.

Others are prettily bandaged....like the Extreme Home Makeover houses standing along an otherwise empty street.

But many are hidden....like the debris that's been covered with a foot of new topsoil. 
And these remain out of sight until someone decides to dig a hole for a new tree or foundation....and then makes the realization that the "fresh new ground" is just a big facade.

Moving on?
Nah.
Moving forward, I think.
But not forgetting.
Instead...remembering.

Remembering how we were....
What we liked about our PT lives....
What we lost...
What we gained....
And ultimately realizing that God truly truly truly does work all things toward His good.

So here's the link to my post on May 22nd 2011.

And a link to my sister-in-law's story, which easily brings tears to my eyes too.

If you have a moment....read them.
And remember.
Remember not what abject fear feels like....but what abject gratefulness feels like.

God heard my prayers....
And to borrow the words from a beautiful song....

(On May 22nd I saw:)

Love that doesn't ever end...
Even when the sky is falling...
I've seen miracles just happen...
Silent prayers get answered...
Broken hearts become brand new....
That's what faith can do.

I am truly blessed beyond measure.
Truly.

Here it Comes...

I don't believe much in anniversaries.

Not that I don't believe they exist....that would be a little silly.
It's just that I've never put much stock in the self-made importance that people pour into a certain amount of time passing after an event.

(Now I DO love birthdays....which I realize are an "anniversary" of the day of birth and all...but I look at those more as an excuse to celebrate a person.  Am I talking out of two sides of my mouth?  Possibly.  But it's my mouth.)

Ask RH. 
We're married.
We were married last year.
We'll be married next year.
We'll be married forever....and the "year amount" might be a good excuse for an adult-only vacation....but the amount of years doesn't truly matter unless it's the diamond anniversary and then RH better flippin' remember.

Anyway.
The point I am trying to come to in my rambling is that while I have never been much of an "anniversary gal"....
I simply can't avoid this particular anniversary.
This particular "memorial".

May 22nd is right around the corner.
Even if you didn't have a calender or an iphone or an ipad or a clue you couldn't claim "ignorance" on the date.
There are ads and information and counseling offers and tributes in all of the newspapers and tv stations and billboards and signs stuck on pickets in yards.

And then there was the Joplin Memorial Run yesterday.

While it was a good race....well organized, well attended and well supported....it wasn't what I had personally expected. 
I had thought that I would have a good ol' cathartic cry at the beginning when they released the 161 balloons and called for 161 seconds of silence.....but unfortunately I was too busy totally panicking trying to find my running partner to give into any emotions.
I had thought that I would have a hard time not crying when we ran past my old neighborhood and the other tornado devastated areas....but I was too busy avoiding various splots of road kill and trying to keep up with my psychotic we can make it in under two hours running partner while going up the longest hill ever.
I had thought that after the run I would (literally and metaphorically) wipe off the reside from the tornado, close the steel reinforced door on the past year and move into the next year as a gi-normous "redo" with fresh expectations and views.

Then I saw my mom after we finished and she told me she cried when the men carrying flags ran by.

And I teared up.

Then I saw a picture of a friend of mine's cat on someone's shirt.  My friend found her cat after it had been buried in the debris of her house, and the shirt said: "I survived being buried under the rubble for 16 days....you can run 13.1 miles!"

And I teared up.

Then this morning as I was getting dressed for church I picked out a white skirt.
Then I realized I wore that same white skirt the first (and second and third) time we went to church after the tornado because it had been in my "lost" luggage and was the only skirt I had left.

And I wore a new sundress instead.

And I went out to lunch with my mom and step-mom and they began talking about where they were when they heard about the tornado and what went through their minds.....and for the first time in months (and I meant MONTHS) I started shaking.

That same all-over-body-shaking I experienced the first few months after the tornado.
My mom thought I was chilly.
I let her think that.

Then someone pointed out that my dad and step mom were leaving to go back to Atlanta on May 22nd....just like last year.

Geesh.
Who cares?
It's just another day?
Right?

Yes.
And no.

Then I got on facebook.
It may not be May 22nd...but it is the "same Sunday" (thank you leap year!) that it was last year...and
People are remembering.
People are emotional.
People are re-creating in their minds exactly what was happening one year ago.

Most of the posts are full of gratefulness.
Many are full of memories.
Some speak of the fear that still lingers.
Quite a few of them address the changes that are still hard to adapt to.
Many mention the difficulties that still exist in dealing with the event.

Yeah....I get all of those emotions.

I finished my "additional living expenses" report for insurance today.
Basically it's a compilation of expenses incurred during our "homeless period" directly after the tornado.
Part of it included itemizing receipts (which I somehow miraculously had) of food, supplies, and meals eaten out of the house during that time.
As I copied a receipt from Johnny Carino's on May 28th I had a total memory flashback of that afternoon with my brother and my parents.

We left my house because I just couldn't take it anymore....and went to see what had happened to the rest of the town.
We drove past the high school to see it for ourselves for the first time.
I remember how raw and horrible and sick I felt.
I remember when we reached the other end of town and my brother and father said they were starving and pulled into the restaurant and I thought I was going to throw up.
I remember pretending to eat a wedge salad (and there it was on the receipt) so my dad wouldn't yell at me....while sitting in the restaurant in my sister-in--law's dirty workout shorts drinking wine (because there was still a boil order on water and I couldn't get diet coke)....and Barrett meeting us to tell us that our insurance company had officially "totaled"our house.
I remember RH and my parents and brother being happy about that because it was "better" for us insurance-wise....and having to go to the bathroom because I was crying so hard.
I remember my dad telling the waiter to just ignore me as I continued to cry all the way through lunch....

This vivid memory came back from a receipt.
A stupid little piece of crumpled paper.
A piece of paper with the ability to make my stomach churn and my eyes well up.

What's going to happen on Tuesday?
What's going to happen at 5:40 when I remember how scarily empty my arms felt when I couldn't put them around my son and nephew as trees began flying?
What's going to happen at 5:41 when I remember how loudly my ears popped?
What's going to happen at 5:42 when I remember holding my arms over my son and godson and his sister in my basement and hearing the world rip apart around me?

Well...there are two possibilities.

One:  I lose it.
Just lose it.

Two:  I am overcome with pure and extreme thankfulness.  Complete gratefulness to God for hearing and answering prayers that day....for my family and for so so so so many others.

I suspect it will be more of the latter....with a healthy dose of the former thrown in.

It will be a day of many tissues.
A day of holding my family close.
A day of reading Psalm 116 over and over again.

Truth?
I'm looking forward to May 23rd.
I want to "close the door".....and keep moving forward.
I don't want to "re-live" and "re-remember" all of this....because it is still so very raw.

Other truth?
I want to remember.
I don't want to forget.
This event has changed me, shaped me, helped refine me... and I want to hold it close enough that I can reach out and grab a memory that helps me keep my priorities where God wants them to be.

So I'm a little mixed up on this.
That's par for the course.

But listening to the people around me....I'd say I'm not the only person who is (eagerly or dreadfully) anticipating this anniversary.

We're all experiencing something new..... this whole year has been a year of "firsts" after the storm.
And this is the "first" memorial.

We'll see how it goes.

If you catch me crying....just pass the tissues please.
But I'd prefer to avoid the wedge salad.