She

She is a beautiful, brave, and strong woman. She works hard, she loves her husband and kids, and she thinks her grandsons hung the moon.

She sacrifices her own dreams and wishes over and over again to make sure the ones she loves are getting what they need.

She's stubborn and opinionated sometimes and is known for telling it like it is, whether others like it or not, but she will do anything for anyone. She's got a big heart

She and I didn't see eye to eye about fifteen years ago, because I, too, am a little stubborn, but now she is like my best friend. She's one of my biggest cheerleaders.

She selflessly keeps my son while I work and refuses to let me pay her for it, even though I know her part time job on the weekends doesn't bring in a lot of money.

She laughs with me, cries with me, and teaches me.

She prays for me.

She is a blessing in my life, and I am so thankful for her. 

I am becoming more and more like her everyday. Fifteen years ago I would have denied it and even been offended by it, but today I am proud to call her my mother.

Looking Back on 9/11

My sister and I (ages 18 and 20 at the time), had the privilege of visiting New York City for a couple of days approximately five weeks before the tragedy of September 11, 2001. She had just graduated high school a few weeks before, and I was about to enter my junior year of college.

The music person that she is, it had been her dream for a long time to visit a Broadway show. This didn't interest either of my parents in the least, but because it was something she really wanted, they paid for half of her expenses as a graduation gift. As the older sister, and the only one of the family who had ever been on a plane at that time, as well as the only one who was remotely interested, I was elected to join her on the trip. (No one had to twist my arm on that one, though!)

It was a pretty big adventure for two young ladies from the country to board a plane, plan out our own trip without anyone's help, and navigate the big city on our own, but we did it, and we had a fabulous time in the two-and-a-half days we were there.

We saw Phantom of the Opera live on the Broadway stage, rode the ferry out to the Statue of Liberty, risked our lives twice by riding in a NYC taxi to and from the airport, visited an authentic NYC coffee shop and the Hard Rock Cafe, walked around a small portion of Central Park and Times Square, toured Radio City Music Hall, 5th Avenue (including Tiffany's!), and St. Patrick's Cathedral, and we even saw the famous "naked cowboy" on the street corner. We opted to ride the red double-decker bus to China Town, the Empire State Building, Wall Street, and of course the Twin Towers, because those were some of the main things we wanted to see, even though we didn't have the time or money to actually tour them.

It was the trip of a lifetime, and so, when I came out of history class just a few weeks later and heard all the buzz on campus as I made my way to the post office for my shift, it all became so surreal.

I think I grew up a lot that day. I remember praying like I had never prayed before. I remember attending a candlelight memorial service on the drill field that night- so many emotions swimming around me. Because we were a military college, we knew it meant that a lot of our young men and women would probably be leaving in the coming weeks.  I remember thanking God that my sister and I weren't there when all these events unfolded. I remember praying for the families of those who lost loved ones, as well as those who were brave enough to risk their lives to save the lives of others.

It's a day I will never forget, just as many across our nation will never forget, and that is why today, even though it has been 12 years, I wore my red, white, and blue proudly. God Bless America!

Five Minute Friday: Red

Our bedroom sports a red tray ceiling. There's a story behind it all.

Brent and I were getting married and we finally found the house that we wanted to make a home. It was in good condition, but we wanted to do some minor renovations to make it our own. Thankfully, my parents offered to help us out. Because of their work schedules, they could sometimes work during the day at the house, so we gave them the extra keys. Honestly, I don't know how we would have gotten it all done in time without their help.

One day upon arriving at the house after work, my mom greeted me at the door saying, "If you don't like it, we will repaint it." I had no idea what she was talking about, but after living with her for 24 years, I knew she had something up her sleeve.  She led me down the hallway to our future master bedroom where my Daddy was painting the ceiling red.

I LOVED IT!

I couldn't believe it.

It's not something I would have thought of on my own, and Brent certainly didn't understand why anyone would want a red ceiling at first,  but over 8 years later, I am so glad my Mama stepped out on a limb and went for it. They say red is the color of passion. Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't, but I love my red ceiling, and red comforter, and red sheets....