Yuck..........

I've got a cold. I feel yucky. I hate colds. Especially when it's supposed to be spring outside and time to be out enjoying the sun. Oh, and when it's rainy and cold and nasty and you can't get outside in the sun that's supposed to be there but isn't so you can't let the sun bake the bad germs out of your body! It wasted no time. I felt it starting before I went to bed on Tuesday night. I had to get up and go to the hospital at one in the morning (which I'm sure didn't help any with fighting it off) and sneezed for the next three hours. Woke up yesterday with my head stuffed up and by suppertime, it was in my chest and in my bones.

Yeah, yeah! I know, I know. I'm whining! (Daggum right, I'm whining!! I feel like hell!!).

Jacob left on Sunday to start his big adventure. Picked up Jamie in Asheville and headed for Boulder. They made it to Boulder in good time and with no major ordeals along the way. They're heading out today for Mohab, Utah for a couple of days and then on to San Fransisco. They fly out a week from today for New Zealand. $700.oo, a backpack, and a guide book, best friend from high school, and a return plane ticket in three months! What more could a 21-year-old want?!

Oh, to be 21 again and off on an adventure like that. To be able to see the world with eyes like his, instead of eyes a little more clouded with fear. I am not near as fearful as so many people I know, but I am more fearful than I let on most of the time, and definitely more fearful than my children. I think maybe becoming a parent does that to you. That all of a sudden, once you become a parent, the world suddenly becomes this place where danger is everywhere. You know what I mean? It takes awhile to get that stuff reeled in and tamed down - guess it happens gradually as your kids get older and you worry less about EVERYTHING and get into more specific worries. You're hoping all along that your kids have taken over worrying about a lot of that stuff, so you don't have to, but then again, it kind of always stays there in the backround somewhere, ready to leap out when you least expect it!

Daniel was telling me last week about a friend of his in Wilmington who just returned from a long trek around the country by way of train-hopping and hitch-hiking. Daniel said some of his stories were pretty wild, though I didn't hear any of the wild stories so my imagination took over and created them for me. What I imagined is probably not anything like what the young man really experienced! But, after we got off the phone, I was thinking about when I was young and not afraid of such things. I remember hitch-hiking here and there. Sometimes people creeped me out a little but I was never afraid like I would be now. Too many movies and too many news broadcasts, I guess.

I made Jacob promise me that he would not hitch-hike back to Boulder from San Fransisco when he comes back from New Zealand. I'm going to buy him a plane ticket. And his girlfriend, Tasha, is going to fly out to Boulder to meet him and drive back with him, so I don't have to worry about him making that trip from Boulder by himself. Out of all the things that I can get to worrying about, this was one I could do something about so I asked and he said, "Okay."

I'll take that.

I'm going home to nurse my cold. I love Vicks Vapor Rub.

Peace. Stay safe from all the germs!

You alright, Chickabee?

I have learned so much in the past few weeks. I've learned a lot about myself and I've learned a lot about the people that I love the most - my sons, my brothers and sisters, my closest friends, Scott, and my mom and dad. I have learned, more than anything, how incredibly lucky I am.

But I've learned that it's not just luck but a lot of hard work, too. I think about how much time and energy and love and patience and forgiveness my mom and dad invested into my life and the lives of my brothers and sisters. They worked so hard for us........ it humbles me when I think about it. It touches my very center and stirs such feelings of gratitude and tenderness.

Time is so short. Time with each other is so precious.

My brothers and sisters and I stood in a small group, leaning on one another, trembling with grief, and said good-bye to the man who was the center of us, the leader of our tribe, the head of our team. I would have fallen apart without my brothers and sisters. Our lifetime of love and affection was the glue that held us together. The words we shared with one another, the words we shared with the big community of my father's friends and colleagues, the way we were able to speak about him....... I will never forget those days, hours, minutes.

My sons let me hug them a million times. Over and over again, they opened up their arms and let me step inside. Their love for me and their love for their grandfather held me steady, gave me great strength, reminded me of what a gift they are to me and to the world. Reminded me of how the circle comes around and you begin to understand the love your parents have for you when you have children of your own.

My three closest friends drove such a long way for me. To just be there with me, for me. When I stepped up into the pulpit to speak at my father's funeral, my heart was racing and my spirit ached so intensely, I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to go on. There were so many people there. I looked out and saw Bobbi and Steve there, smiling, sending me the courage to continue - and so I did. The time I spent with Cindy the following evening helped me to know that everything was going to be okay - that despite this great big huge hole that's happened in my life, some things will always be the same. That continuing on in life - as we have to do!! - is okay. Thank you, my friends.

Scott never wavered. Never backed away from the sadness. Never questioned. Just loved. Loved me, loved my mom, loved my brothers and sisters, my sister-in-laws. It was amazing to see. He just opened up his heart; offered his shoulder, his smile, his hand. I've never been loved like that before. I watched him give so much, without holding anything back. Even now, I am touched by the very memory of it. I will hold on to that forever.

And my mom....... my mom showed such grace and beauty. There is no way to write it into a blog or anywhere else - but it is forever written on my heart and the hearts of my brothers and sisters, my kids, my nieces and nephews - all of us who were there. When we were overwhelmed by the immensity of our loss, she gave us grace, peace, and direction. I would like to have even a small part of that grace she has.

When I was still living in Morganton, whenever I was sad or blue or sick or struggling, my friend Bobbi would call me up to check on me. She'd always say, "You alright, Chickabee?".

I wanted you to know that I'm alright. Full. Sad. Tender. Happy. Humbled. Grateful. Full of love.

Peace all.

What a smile!!

This is my dad and his beautiful smile.

My dad...........

Romer Stevens, Jr.
May 19, 1928 - February 28, 2009

He loved me all my life. Even when I was a wild, out-of-control teenager, he loved me even then. Even in the midst of my hardest times, there has always been a part of me that knew that I would somehow pull through, that I was going to be alright - that came from my dad. And, even now, when it feels like something is broken inside of me, I know that I'm going to be alright.

When you love someone as much as I love my father, there really never is a good-bye. He is and always will be right here with me, in me, part of me. When I sing, when I listen to a beautiful piece of music, when I look into the eyes of my brothers and sisters and my nieces and nephews - there he is!

Love is a precious thing. I am so very grateful to have been loved so well and to have had the chance to love like that in return.

Go with God, Dad. I love you. I love. Thank you.

Peace all.

Go With God................

Day by day, you slip away
Down a path that I can't follow,
On a journey you alone must make.
And I believe you walk with peace,
But I want to hold you tightly
Letting go makes my spirit ache.

I know that sorrow this deep
Only comes from love deeper still
You have loved me well.

I can't imagine life without you.
I don't know how to let go with grace.
But you walk a path now that's holy
And the light of love is shining on your face
So go with God.

I had a dream, your soul was free
And I could see you flying
With wings that held the colors of the rainbow.
Your voice was strong and raised in song
And it rolled across the valley
And it wrapped itself around me
And soothed my soul.

And when I woke with the sunrise
I could see your colors in the dawn.
I could hear your song.

And I can't imagine life without you.
I don't know how to let go with grace.
But you walk a path now that's holy
And the light of love is shining on your face.
So go with God.
-----Yours truly, Go With God

For my dear, sweet, loving father. February 20, 2009. I love you, Dad.

Peace.

Haunted.........

How do you go about getting someone to leave you alone? It's a hard thing to do when it's a hard person. Particularly if they are determined to NOT leave you alone but to keep poking at you. Not often, but just often enough to keep the sore place from healing over. Little pokes. "Just being nice." But it's not nice - you know what I mean?

I've tried asking....... that obviously didn't work. I put blocks up in my email program. I moved and didn't leave a forwarding address. But mail comes to me anyway. In a small community, it doesn't matter if the address line is empty - the mail will find you.

It's like being haunted. And I want to be free of this ghost. Or at least free enough that I don't feel fear and anxiety every time I open up my mailbox (on line or at the post office). He doesn't understand what happens to me....... or maybe he does. If he really is a nice guy, is it so much to ask to just be left alone? Like really left alone. Like forever leave me alone!! I don't know anymore. I thought about asking. But the reaction of my physical body to even the thought of that is sooo strong. Probably not a good idea. I'd be liable to barf on my shoes. Or pee myself.

It's like being haunted.

If anyone out there knows a good exorcist, send him on down to Willis Wharf.

It's just like being haunted.

Peace.

A Sweet Valentines Story......

My younger brother Eric called my mom yesterday afternoon to tell her he was on the way to her house. He said, "I'm going to call you when I pull in the driveway and you have to go upstairs and wait until I tell you to come back down." And so he did, and she went upstairs as she was asked. A bit later, he called up the stairs and told her she could come down again. My brother had gotten my father up and walked him into the kitchen and had him sitting up at the kitchen table with a dozen red roses and a Valentine's Day card for my mom, from my dad. My mom was very touched. She said she thought my dad was more surprised than she was! My dad had forgotten that it was Valentine's Day. The cancer has taken away much of his memory, especially of recent things. He always got my mom something special, and so, by way of my sweet little brother, he did again.

I come from a lot of love. Happy Valentine's Day!

Peace.