I was reading an article today about a politician whose decision to run for office was, in some ways, a result of the death of his teenage son.  (I won’t mention the politician because I honestly don’t know if I do/do not support him.) This event made him decide to really do something with his life while he had time.

 Then, when I got home, I was thinking that I really ought to write something tonight, only I didn’t have any ideas. But I had already decided that when I am stuck for ideas I would go to my quote journals. (Short explanation: I was an English major who felt she ought to be able to spout quotes, but couldn’t memorize them, so I journaled them.) Well, the first quote in the first journal fit right in with the article mentioned above:

If I had only a short time to live, I would immediately contact all the people I had ever really loved and make sure they knew I had really loved them. Then I would play all the records that meant most to me,and I would sing all my favorite songs. And, oh! I would dance. I would dance all night.

I would look at my blue skies and feel my warm sunshine. I would tell the moon and stars how lovely and beautiful they are. I would say “Goodbye” to all the little things I own, my clothes, my books, and my “stuff”. then I would thank God for the great gift of life, and die in His arms.
- from a college girl’s journal

I remember when I copied this, about the time I graduated high school, I thought it was absolutely perfect and exactly what I would do. I still love it, but if I knew I wouldn’t be around long, there are so many things I would take care of! I feel like I already listen to my music and appreciate nature, and that the people I love know that I love them. But what I’d need to do is make sure everyone would be able to get along without me. (Wasn’t there a movie with Julia Roberts about a dying woman replacing herself? Anyway…) So, can I write a revised version? Something a little more practical?

If I had only a short time to live, I would immediately balance my checkbook and show my husband our bill-paying plan and where the insurance papers are and how to keep everything organized for tax time. I would teach my youngest son to do laundry, and my oldest son to take care of the cat litter and bathrooms. I would show them all my master grocery list, and my Christmas card and gift lists, and make them promise to keep up with things.  I would tell my boys what they really need to look for in a future wife, and to find a job they really love even if it doesn’t pay well because they’ll be happier - as long as they live within their means.

Then I would read them all my favorite books and Bible verses and songs and tell them what they meant to me. I would throw away all the clothes I didn’t really like and wear t-shirts and jeans and Keds all the time, even if I still had to go to work, because I know they wouldn’t fire me if they knew I was dying. And if I didn’t have to go to work, I hope I would have enough money to go see places I’d never seen before, like the Grand Canyon, (and if I had lots of money, I’d go to the space station.)

Then I would spend my last night on the beach in my husbands arms looking up at the stars and holding my children’s hands. Looking at those stars and the sea, I would tell them all that God’s creation is so vast and complex that we can’t hope to understand it all, but that the one thing I know is that God has promised we’ll be together again. I would tell them to stick together, because whatever happens family has each other, and to do something nice every day, and to always be thankful for everything. I would kiss them and hug them alot, and I bet they wouldn’t even complain even though they are boys. … Then I would ask them to leave so that they wouldn’t have to be there when the hearse I ordered came to collect me.

I haven’t been too good about writing the last few days, so instead I direct you to the latest pictures in the family section of this site…Snow Geese!

Oh, and Happy Birthday Mom!

Leiham has been on a paper folding kick, ever since December when he sold paper airplanes on Ebay for charity. 



We were looking for something to do “special” before bed tonight, and I found this site:
http://www.tammyyee.com/origami.html
 I like the Hawaiian Shirt. What’s your favorite?

Not that interested in Origami? Take a look at this blend of engineering science and paper.
http://www.langorigami.com/
Even if you never try it, you should look at the “Crease Patterns” and see the complex “DNA” for each of these creations.

You: Is that the toy that you brought with you?

< Snickering and giggling ensues. >

You: What?

Boy1:  It sounded like you said: Is that the toilet   you brought with you?!

< Both boys burst out laughing. >

In a post called “How to Perform at Your Peak“, website Trizle.com suggests asking yourself “If I had 5 years to live, what would I do?”

(It is worth noting that we’re talking about career/business/work here, not housework/hobbies/family life. Although I guess it would apply there, too, but that’s not what I need.)I love the concept, but the strategy doesn’t work for me.I have a family to support, and would have to keep doing what I am doing, because that’s what pays the bills and puts a little aside for when I am gone. Aggh! I even tried changing it to “if you had unlimited funds, what would you be doing?” Well, I got a lot more ideas that way, but I couldn’t figure out how to implement them, since I do not have unlimited funds.

For what it’s worth, Nathan, I think I agree with you.

Here’s something I’ve been wanting to write about for a while. Now before you think I’m going all goody-two-shoes on this one, I’ll point out that I actually have a little bit of a lead foot. I’m not going 200 mph down the interstate, but I tend to drive by “feel”, and sometimes it just doesn’t feel as fast as it is. Add to that the fact that the school bus picks up the kiddos between 7:40 and 7:55, but it takes me at least 15 minutes to get to work. You think some days I am tempted to speed a little? So, I did a little math to convince myself not to speed. To make the math easier, I’ll adjust the starting distance and speed, but you’ll get the idea.

Alan Lepfosky challenges us:

This entry at Shiny, Shiny reminded me of something I’ve been chewing on for a while now. Susi writes:

It was the end of the day. My boys had their newest attraction - a box turtle. We had safely tucked it into a lidded plastic storage bin with enough dirt, twigs, and rocks to make any landscaper proud. We even had a plastic sandwich box full of water, big enough for the turtle to take a dip. What we didn’t have, apparently, was turtle food. It wasn’t eating leaves. It wasn’t eating banana pieces. It wasn’t eating lettuce. As the boys headed up for their showers, I vaguely remembered that we once had a pet turtle, and we fed it live grasshoppers. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try. I stepped out the front door into the wooded night, but surprisingly didn’t see any bugs. The only thing buzzing around our front door light was a dragonfly, and he was way too big. “Any other day, I’d be swatting moths away from my face right now,” I thought. In desperation, I turned to the plastic pool we had set up for the summer. There were always wasps, bees, and other assorted bugs floating in it.  

That’s when I saw the largest swallowtail butterfly I’ve ever seen…floating outspread in the pool. My heart sank. Poor thing. Her wings were bedraggled. She wasn’t moving. But she was still beautiful. (She was most definitely NOT turtle food. The turtle would just have to learn to like banana.) My mother’s most recent decorating fetish is butterflies, so I thought perhaps I could figure out a way to frame this butterfly. I got a piece of computer paper and carefully slid it under the butterfly. Bingo! I was able to lift her out, wings outstretched, and perfectly flat. I brought her inside and laid the paper on top of a cardboard box in the kitchen to dry. 

I showed my prize to my husband and the boys. Hubby headed over to chat with a neighbor. I tucked the boys in and set to work cleaning up the kitchen. When I next checked on her, she looked to be drying well. Her antennae and legs weren’t stuck down anymore, and she seemed to have more colors than before. Her body was still plump, so it was easy to imagine what she might have looked like as a caterpiller. She looked so lifelike, I knew she’d be beautiful framed. 

I watched TV for a few hours. My husband came home. We started turning off lights and heading up to bed. I checked on my butterfly. “She’s gone,” I yelled to my husband. “One of the cats ate her,” he replied. I couldn’t imagine…not that I’d put it past them, but I would have heard them getting on the box. There would be paper and…little butterfly parts…around. This was no crime scene. And then I saw her - perched on a pair of jeans hung over the stair railing beside the box! “Honey! She’s alive!” He came in to look in wonder, and then carefully lifted the jeans and carried her to the back deck. He deposited her on an aloe plant I had out there. She took a few steps and wiggled a little. She seemed content to perch for now, wings still outspread (and probably still drying). 

I told my husband I was glad I saved her, even though it meant I couldn’t frame her. He told me that to frame her, we’d have had to dry her in the oven a few hours. I was glad he hadn’t told me that a few hours before! 

The next morning I looked out onto the deck. She was gone. I turned back to the kitchen and saw the piece of computer paper still sitting on the box. On that paper was a perfect outline of her wings. I knew my mother would rather frame this outline than the butterfly’s body. Butterflies are often used as a symbol of the resurrection. But this…this was an extra-special resurrection symbol.