Had a bad day again

Well, maybe not again, but I definitely had a bad day. I knew when I walked in the door that my schedule was maxed out. I was right. Thirteen hours solid - no lunch, no dinner. But that's not why I'm so glad to close the book on February 20, 2007.

Doug's cousin sent me an IM early this morning to let me know that Grandma Lily wasn't doing so hot. That's an understatement. They've called hospice, she's breathing shallow and rapid, and they've got her on Xanax and Morphine. I'd say she's doing pretty terrible.

I called my mom to see if our pups could stay at their house while we're gone to Carlsbad for the funeral. She was acting a little off and I managed to pry out of her that her endocrinologist referred her to an oncologist today. My chest is still tight. I never understood people who had anxiety issues. I do now. Of course I cried, but that wasn't cathartic enough. I felt like I needed to scream, to cry, to completely and totally freak out.

My entire life, well, the last ten years or so, I've worried about dad. Heart surgery, back surgery times 5, issue after issue. I haven't ever stopped to worry about mom. Sure she's been tired for four years, but I chalked that up to a few minor disorders and depression. Never in a million years did I think that something this serious could possibly be wrong.

She'll go for her first appointment tomorrow at 1:30. Needless to say, I've talked to God a lot more than usual today. I would pretty much count on me being pretty worthless tomorrow, which accounts for the 13-hour day today. I know we won't know anything tomorrow, but I still feel like my chest might implode with the tiniest nudge - physical or emotional.

Resolution

This was on my home page, but I liked it enough to keep it:

2007 has arrived and so has the Carey household resolution - to live every day of 2007 taking advantage of the fact that we don't have children. Sleeping in, drinking myself into oblivion, staying up until whenever i feel like, and obsessing over things I don't need are current examples of this mentality. The countdown is on. 2008 is just around the corner. Before too long, Carey party of two will not prompt us to get up and head to the hostess stand. Carey party of two-and-a-half? You've got roughly 359 days plus 40 weeks to wait for that.

I've been doing well so far. I had a little too much to drink twice last week, I slept until almost one last weekend, and I've been working at my kitchen table for the last three hours. Wait. That's not any fun! What have I been doing?? Here it is two weeks into the new year and I'm already blowing my resolution!

I think I have a bottle of tequila in the freezer. I better go check into that...

Actually, the most important part of my resolution is healthy. I have no idea how often I'll be able to take care of me once a bouncing bundle of joy comes along, so I'm taking this opportunity to go to the gym as often as possible. Sure they have a little day care, but who wants to pick their brand new baby up from one day care and drop the poor little thing off at another? I've determined that Doug and I are going to have to get one of those jogging strollers. I'll take the dogs and he can push the baby. I'd push the baby, but Doug is smarter than me and won't run with both puppies. I wonder when I'll catch on to that...

A renewal of faith - read with caution

I was on the way home from the hospital today. I don't know what song was playing on the radio and it's not really important. It occurred to me today what revitalized my faith. When my uncle passed away in May, my cousin Nita and my Aunt Bev were amazingly strong through the whole thing. They relied on their faith 110% to get them through the pain. Of course, I thought to myself, "If only I had faith like that." But that's not what started my personal revival. During the eulogy, the preacher said that when Adrian reached the gates of Heaven, God would smile proudly and say, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

I didn't realize it then, but that's what started working on me. I got to thinking, "What will God have to say to me when I reach the gates of Heaven? Have I done anything for His Kingdom?" Since then, I've realized that if my time had been up instead of Uncle Adrian's, God would not have said those words to me. He may have said, "Thanks for praying in a crunch – you know, in the middle of tests or when you thought the world was coming to an end – but what about all those other times? When did you ever thank Me for a blessing? When did you ever spend time in My Word? When did you ever serve Me?" I could hear Matthew 25:45 ringing in my ears, but I didn't know then that it was Matthew speaking to me. Better yet, it was the Lord.

I know a lot of you who have never known the spiritual side of Sheri are probably thinking, "What on earth happened to our tequila-drinking, uninhibited, fun-loving maniac of a friend?" It's probably scaring the hell out of you to hear (or read) me go on like this. That same old Sheri is still here – she just finally figured out what was missing. She finally woke up and said to herself, "What's the point of all of this?" The answer was simple, and maybe a little scary, but abundantly clear. We were created to worship. We were created only for God Himself. My point on this earth is to love the Lord with all my heart, all my soul, and all my strength.

Again – this "psycho Jesus babble" is probably way too much for a lot of you. And that's ok. I just put two and two together this evening and I needed to get that off my chest. So… a tiny bit of the divine plan was suddenly clear to me. In Adrian's death came life – everlasting life for me and for Doug. It's amazing that it takes something so dramatic to wake us up and something so tiny to change our lives.

I'm ready to hear those words one day. It'll be the sweetest atta girl ever spoken and won't it be sweet to smile and say thanks for that? Yeah – Douglas Adams had it all wrong. 42 ain't got nothing on the meaning of this life.

Gallo of Sonoma

On October 4, 2001, my best friend showed up at my apartment with a bottle of wine, a bouquet of sunflowers, and a funny card about a trailer park to wish me happy 22nd birthday. He scribbled something inside the card that changed my heart, and ultimately, my life. Not in so many words, he reminded me that I should never settle for anything or more important, anybody. He reminded me that I should be treated well – like a blessing instead of a burden. He reminded me of my self-worth. He reminded me that there was someone out there who would care more about me than about himself.

I have carried that bottle of wine around with me for five years now. It's moved a grand total of six times, each move marking a new chapter of my life. I've been saving it for a special occasion. I have had plenty of joyous occasions to celebrate in the last five years, but I wasn't quite ready.

Tonight, I will open that wine. I recognize that I'm at a point in my life where I've reached all of the goals that Robert set forth for me (whether he knew he was setting goals is completely beside the point). I am treated well, I did not settle, I have held on to myself, and I have learned that I care more about Doug that I do about me. Even better than that, I know Doug cares more about me than about himself.

Tonight, we celebrate two years of marriage, but we celebrate more than that. We celebrate happiness, oneness, and life and love and all of the things that we hoped for when we started out down this road. We celebrate the promise that we made to each other on that beach 2,000 miles away and we're glad about it. So, Gallo of Sonoma – tonight we part ways. Thanks for sitting on my shelf and reminding me what love is all about.

The day after

Yesterday was a really good birthday. I ate my way through it – starting with a pumpkin latte and finishing with a 4-pack of Chic-fil-a nuggets. My mother-in-law sent me jade earrings from China, my FOTW small group met me for dinner at Chipotle, and Doug's professor got sick. That may sound strange, but after believing all day that I was going to spend my birthday without seeing my hubby, hearing he had a sick professor was music to my ears.

We didn't do much, really, but it was nice to spend time with him. I still have no idea what he got me, but Saturday will be here soon enough. My work birthday was the best ever, Napoleon Dynamite style (see new pic!). We had Vote-for-Pedro stickers, inflatable frogs, and an ice cream cake from Cold Stone. That was a definite hit and we will do that again some day. In fact, there was a chunk of it left over that I'll be taking home this evening.

Let's see… what else? Mom and Dad gave me new running shoes, Mari bought me breakfast, and Lindsey brought me some chocolate-covered macadamia nuts fresh from Honolulu. I had well wishes from at least a dozen friends and family, and Doug topped off the evening with a foot rub. Twenty-seven welcomed me with open arms.

27

Well, another year older and not feeling much different than I did last night when I went to sleep. Except, of course, that I'm no longer expecting an alien to burst from my stomach and tap dance on my desk. See, I had Thai for lunch yesterday. That's always a mistake. It's SO tasty when I'm eating it but later... well, let's just say I won't be having Thai again any time soon.

Anyway, happy birthday to me. I'll be eating dinner with my Bible study pals and going to church tonight. It's weird to think that not so long ago, an alien did burst forth from my stomach and tap danced on the bar - not because of Thai food, but because of the combination of car bombs, breakfast shots, and four horsemen/three wisemen. Chipotle with a group of God loving adults is a far cry, although an easier cry to stomach, than a raucous group of college kids banging their fists on the bar. Times have changed, but I have not.

Here's to growing up, even if it is only a little bit.

Goin' to New Jersey

Robert Plant didn't write a song about going to New Jersey because it is the armpit of America. I hope I didn't offend anyone with that comment but. . . well, it's true. I hear there are nice places in Jersey. Unfortunately, I've never seen them. I always fly in, take a car to either a pharmaceutical company or to a toilet factory, meet for two days, and fly out. Almost all of my interactions in NJ take place in the dark. Truthfully, I have no idea what New Jersey is like.

I do know, however, that I'm flying into Newark on Tuesday afternoon for a Wednesday morning meeting. I'll be safe and sound, back in Texas, by 10 p.m., less than 36 hours after I leave home.

Positive things about this trip:

1. I'm adding another 2,000+ points to my Continental account. Go me. Maybe next time we take a trip, I'll have enough points to buy our airline tickets. 2. I'll have at least 8 hours in the plane to read. I'm in the middle of a new series that I'm loving. Hopefully, 8 hours in a plane and a night alone in the hotel will be enough time to finish at least 2 of the 3 books. 3. I only have to be in the office two days next week. It's like a 5-day weekend, except that I'm working 2 of those 5 days. Wait - that's not positive...

Note - the toilet factory comment was NOT a joke. Our NJ office is in a renovated toilet factory. Seriously.