To Run Again

I want to run again.

I want to gasp for air and feel sweat trailing down my back. I want to appreciate the support in my shoes and the length of my legs. I want my calves to build back up to form again…to have people know I run, just by looking at my legs. I want to wear my Under Armor and Nike shirts, all with witty sayings and bright colors. I want to feel my second wind kick in, and take me farther than I thought I could go. But to feel all this…I have to run again.

Injuries…they suck, especially for someone like me…someone who discovered that one and only enjoyable exercise. The exercise they can no longer do. The memory of being strong and ready, and the reality of being weak and afraid. I’m afraid of it all.

I’m afraid of the time it will take me to run a mile now. I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it. I’m afraid I’ll give up running because the pain is too great and the benefits can’t keep me going. I’m afraid I can’t do it…but just like last time, I’m going to do it anyway.

I run. I can be strong because I run. I can be healthy because I run. I can be proud again…because I run.

I want to run again.

Where Are You Christmas?

When I was a little girl, our family had our traditions like most families we knew. We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day going from place to place, celebrating with our grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. We had too much food, even more sweets and more presents than we really needed.

The month of December was a special time at our house. The tree was up and decorated and all the knick-knacks we owned that had a remote connection to Christmas covered every surface. The cabinet stereo played continuously: Lynn Anderson, Jim Reeves, Burl Ives, Bing Crosby, The Chipmunks and (may we NEVER forget) the Royal Guardsmen's Snoopy's Christmas. My Mama and Grandmommy baked the entire month, and my Pop made homemade candy better than anything Hershey ever produced. We watched all the Christmas specials (mostly cartoons), which was a big deal because Christmas movies didn't show on every channel 24/7. I prayed for snow every night, and every Christmas morning I woke up too early, woke my brother and parents, and headed straight for the tree.

Christmas was my favorite time of year, until 1991. On December 23rd that year (my senior year in high school), I lost my Grandma. She was the first "close" relative I'd ever lost. As I said earlier, she was one of those places we'd travel to every Christmas Eve. Her house on Christmas Eve afternoon was something our entire family looked forward to...and mine is a BIG family. All 8 children and their spouses, 25+ grandchildren (and eventually their spouses and children) crammed into her 2 bedroom house and celebrated the season. It was a good time for all of us, and then she was gone.

That year, since the viewing ended up being on Christmas night, we didn't really have a normal Christmas. We woke up at home, just like normal, but the joy was gone. There had been a Christmas Eve gathering the day before, but this time it was a family huddled together in loss and sadness. I never got over that Christmas, and since then I just can't seem to find the joy it used to bring.

Some say Christmas looses it's sparkle as you get older. Some say it becomes more of a hassle than a happy time. But for me, someone who has held onto family traditions close my entire life, I don't think that's it. I think when I lost my Grandma 20 Christmases ago, I lost the Spirit of Christmas.

So how can I get it back? It's not like I haven't tried. I've decorated, sang songs and baked until I can't move. I've gone to countless school pageants, church plays, and light shows - still nothing like it used to be. I've watched more Christmas movies in the past 5 years than I care to remember, still the Spirit of Christmas eluded me. Until this year...

This year is different. It's not because of the decorations, the cookies, or even the music. It's not because of the church play, a gift I received, or even how much I'm looking forward to spending time with my family. This year it's about finding something new to fill a void I've felt for so long. This year it's about making new traditions for my family and spending time with them. It's about loving my Husband, and letting him know that everyday with him is like Christmas day. It's about being thankful for everything I've been blessed with. And last, but certainly not least, it's about Jesus...the reason for this season.

I know my Grandma would be happy about my new found love of the season, and I know she would have never wanted me to lose the Spirit of Christmas. So, this month while I enjoy the decorations, movies, and food that's become such a part of my life this time of year, I'll remember the REAL Spirit of Christmas...and my Grandma, who always made it so special.

My Girls

When my Grandpa passed away, I was given a notebook he left for me. Inside the notebook were several stories he'd recounted about his childhood. That notebook is something I cherish...something that's very special to me. That notebook means my "Pa" understood how important writing was to me, and he (although he wasn't the type to keep a journal) sat down and wrote about his past so I could remember him. I don't think I have ever been given a more special gift.

It's been a while since I've written here. I've been working on writing in a handwritten journal...kind of like the notebook, but more about things that happen in my everyday life. I want something in my handwriting that I can leave behind when I go. Since I don't have any children of my own, I've written the journal for my nieces - Megan and Taylor. I want them to always remember me, and know I loved them very much.

Megan is my mini-me. When I put pictures of us on FaceBook, people ask me if I'm sure she isn't my child instead of my brother's. She's a tender-hearted, outspoken, typical teenager. She likes music and loves to sing. She dances around her living room like I used to when I was her age. She's sweet and kind, and doesn't understand when others are mean and hurtful. She gives people the benefit of the doubt, and sees the best in everyone - until the prove otherwise. She's like me in that it's easy to make her cry...and when she does, it breaks my heart. She wears her heart on her sleeve (just like me) and is very sensitive to her feelings, as well as those of others.

Taylor doesn't look like me exactly, but she sure does act like me. She's "Little Miss Bossy" to my "Miss Bossy". She likes to control the situation, just like her Aunt Mitz - the difference is if she doesn't get her way, she just does what she does what she wants to do by herself. She like to play video games, and from what I've seen, she's pretty good at it. She's a free spirit and likes to do her own thing. She's got some characteristics I wish I had. She doesn't care what others think, she just does what makes her happy. She goes her own way, and if others follow, that's OK...if they don't, that's OK too. She makes her own fun and can be content by herself. She doesn't get very bothered by things and is generally easy going. She's usually content in any situation, and I think she'll grow into a strong, independent woman some day.

I miss them a lot. I live 2 hours from them, so I don't see them often - except around holidays. I've watched both of them grow. I've seen both of them laugh and cry. I've told each of them how beautiful the really are. And now, I want to make sure I have something to give them that will remind them of how much "Aunt Mitz" loved them. This journal I'm writing may be about everyday, ordinary things...but someday, to them, it will be a lot more.

The Move Back "Home"

We had the best intentions...moving back to our hometown. Thinking about all the friends we left behind 7 years ago, and all the family we could see on a regular basis, it seemed like the right time to make the move. I was stoked, and David...well, he just kind of went along with my plan.

We never made it to the 12 month mark, even though the lease said we had to. I must say making it 9 months was hard enough, so we did what we had to do and got back to the city ASAP. There are a few things I miss (a spontaneous lunch/dinner with my parents, home football games with my high school BFF, family dinners in the middle of the week) but all the aside, I'm glad to be back home. If home is where the heart is, I'm in the right place.

We've been her a little over 2 weeks, and I wake up every morning knowing I'm in the right place. It makes life easier when you love where you are. 8 years ago, when I moved here my plan was to stay a year or two and head back home. It lasted 7 years...and then we took something I like to refer to as an "extended vacation" back to the old stomping ground. Now that I'm back, I'm soaking it up.

I know people may not understand the choice. to be away from family and friend; to leave what you grew up knowing. But we belong here. Some people know...there are just places they are drawn to...places that make them feel "right". Cary is that place for us right now.

I must say, there are some things I didn't miss: traffic jams on I-40, stoplights every few blocks, crowded stores and sidewalks...but I guess those things, along with all the good things make me feel alive and like I have a purpose. I'm part of something bigger...something different than what I knew before I came here.

We're thriving already. We're settling in nicely, and we've been talking about resuming our daytrips to the beach (only 2 hours away now). And what a perfect time to come back. We just had Lazy Daze, we still have a little bit of warm weather left to enjoy the sidewalk cafes, and the holidays are right around the corner (which means a full social calendar to take full advantage of). We've resumed our weekly dinners with Nancy, and the impromptu coffee dates with Marcy, so all is getting back to normal.

I missed our town...it's good to be home.

Up Late

When we stay up late, I blame it on our DVR. By the time we get home from work and have dinner, we only have a few hours to relax...and usually that involves watching shows we've taped during the day. It's one of those things we feel is worth the $7.00 a month if only because we hate commercials.

At around 10:30 PM we start promising each other that this is the last show...and then we're going to bed. Usually by 11:30 PM we give up, tell the other we aren't really sleepy, and start another show. Some nights David sits up with me the entire time...and sometimes I end up putting him in the bed, shutting the bedroom door and finishing a few more episodes alone.

We somehow get stuck on one show or the other. Right now, we watch Law & Order reruns or The First 48. Every Friday night we wait until 10 PM to watch Grimm (it comes on at 9 PM, but we wait so we can skip the commercials). Other than these recordings, we have the DVR set for The Closer and The Mentalist (which are currently not showing new episodes). By now we've exhausted NCIS and House and have watched almost every episode...recording either one of those forces us to watch 5 minutes and delete a show we've already seen.

The invention of the DVR is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because we can skip the commercials...a curse because we must drag ourselves out of bed the next morning. But with so many shows to watch...what are a couple of "night owls" like us to do?

He's Kind of a Big Deal...

I always stay up later than David. He has to work (like a normal person...he has to actually GO to work). I, on the other hand, can sleep a little later, roll out of the bed, and sign on to my VPN...instantly I'm "at the office". He tries his very best to stay up with me, but it never works. His eyes start to close and he yawns several times...and finally I tell him to go on to bed. He fakes reluctance and then I "tuck him in" and say goodnight.

While he sleeps I catch up on some "me time". I read my mystery novels, or review new Facebook posts...or write. And the entire time I think of my wonderful, sweet husband sleeping in the next room. He's dreaming of the things he needs to do or things he's done. He only stirs a little when I climb into bed next to him. And then I listen...listen to him breathe (and sometimes snore). And then I smile, thank the good Lord he gave him to me, and then I sleep...peacefully beside him.

He doesn't think he does enough for me. He tells me often that he wishes he could do more. He wishes he could make me smile with gifts of flowers and jewelry. He tells me he loves me and he hopes I know it. He sends me texts telling me how much I mean to him...but he always wants to follow it up with a loving gesture.

What he doesn't know is that he's my gift. Having him next to me on the couch watching Law & Order on the DVR is like Heaven to me. Having him beside me in the car makes me smile. Holding his hand in the grocery store is better than any flowers or jewelry he will ever give me.

His words calm me. His touch brings me peace. His smile melts my heart. His kiss makes me feel alive. He is just a man to everyone else...but to me...well...he's kind of a big deal. :)

Spring Break 2012

This week was spring break for Alan and Vickie. They flew down to spend the week with us and will go home tomorrow. We've had a great time and have been busy doing "fun" things all week.

On Sunday, Allison & Jody & all the kids came over for a cook out. The kids were glad to see their cousins and spent time catching up. Vickie, Megan & Taylor played on the swing in the front yard while the rest of us sat around laughing and talking. David & Alan grilled hamburgers and hotdogs and we all ate as much as possible.

On Monday, David went to work and I hung out with the kids watching movies and eating junk food. When David was off work, I picked up Megan & Taylor and brought them back here for a slumber party with Vickie. They played on the swing, explored the barns and watched movies until they fell asleep. Taylor ended up falling asleep first and Vickie used eyeliner to draw a cat face on her. No one knew until the next morning when we woke up.

Tuesday I took the girls shopping and to get their nails painted while David took Alan fishing for some father/son time. In the evening, I took Megan & Taylor home and took Alan to spend the night with Brian. That night, Vickie, Dave and I watched Storage Wars until we couldn't stay awake any longer.

Wednesday we picked up Nanny and then Alan and all went to the movies. Me, Alan and David saw 21 Jump Street. Vickie & Nanny saw Mirror, Mirror. Then we all came home and cooked a big dinner and talked and laughed until it was time for Nanny to go home.

Thursday was cold and rainy. We decided to stay in for the day and veg out in front of the TV. Nanny came over and stayed with us all day. That evening, we had another cookout with Michelle, Stevie, Brittni, Nick, Mitchell and my parents. We all had to stay inside, but it was a fun time getting to see everyone together.

On Friday, Alan & David went to the movies again to see American Reunion. Vickie & I went shopping again and found some cool shirts for her. After the movie and shopping, we met Allison, Jody & the kids for ice cream at ColdStone. Everyone had ice cream and said their goodbyes. On the way home we stopped and rented some movies and went home to start packing for the kid's trip home.

Tomorrow morning we will head to Raleigh so the kids can fly back home. We are excited about June 8th when we will go to PA to see Alan graduate from high school. Spring break didn't last long enough, but we will see the kids again soon.