Spreading my Wings

I captured this picture earlier this week near Arlington National Cemetery.



"Just when the caterpillar thought her world was ending, she became a butterfly."

Pray Day

I wasn't living in the United States on September 11, 2001. J was stationed overseas and we were all enjoying the first of what would be two, 3-year assignments in Germany.

But I was fewer than 13 miles away from the Pentagon on that crisp, bright, not-quite-autumn morning.

At the end of August 2001, the girls and I had flown into Maryland. The plan was to stay with my mom through the beginning of October so I could attend the wedding of a good friend. Little did I know it would be closer to Thanksgiving before I would ever make it back to Europe.

On That Morning, I had awakened before the girls. My mother and brother had already left for work and I took advantage of the quiet to catch up on my e-mails. The phone rang. It was my grandmother. She asked if I had the TV on, which I didn't. As I was fumbling around to find the remote, I thought I heard her say "They blew up the World Trade Center." - which made no sense to me. But right there on Channel 7 was the unbelievable. Both towers billowing smoke. Holding the phone and unable to speak, I stayed on the phone until the South Tower collapsed. Then I sank to my knees and began to weep. The last word I heard my Grandmother say before we hung up: "Pray."

A lot can happen in 10 years. I have moved back to The States ~ twice. Lost several Loved Ones (including my beloved Grandnannie). Had a son. Run the course of my marriage. Started over. And still I pray.

Because I remember That Day. When we all stood as one. United in fear. In shock. In awe. When all we could do was pray.

Remembering the heroes and victims of September 11, 2001 and their families. Remembering the service members who gave the Ultimate Sacrifice and their families. Remembering those who continue to serve and the families who continue to sacrifice.

Hand Wash Only

They say things happen in threes. Apparently, I am well on my way.

The a/c fan in my van quit last week. Mercifully, the worst of the summer heat seems to be over. This week, the latch on my washing machine busted. It fills with no problem, but won't agitate or drain without assistance. I have to stick my hand up under the lid and connect the circuit. So safe around sloshing water. Not to mention I almost lost a finger in the Spin Cycle.

Channeling my inner "Mama"-Gyver, I was able to manufacture a temporary fix with a Tide bottle cap. Then it was time to break out the big guns - Play-Doh and a sponge hair roller. There was no way I was going to let that machine beat me. Although, I felt like I was doing all the work. Kind of gives a whole new meaning to the term "wash by hand".

Guess I'd be an awful pioneer, too.

Face. Time.

Savannah

This is the face that welcomed me into The Motherhood 14 years ago. A face that has been inspiring me ever since. I thank God for blessing me with such an inspirational soul. I love you, Birthday Girl.

Queue the Locust

If they sold "I Survived Acts of God Week" T-shirts, I'd probably buy one. No sooner had Mechagodzilla stopped bobbling from the Earthquake - it was time to batten down the hatches for Hurricane Irene. We lost power overnight, but the kids and I channeled our inner pioneers and stuck it out (but Mariah would have been an awful pioneer). The basement didn't flood, thank God, and we only lost a few tree limbs and branches.

My mom maintained power throughout, so we were able to go over and juice up the electronics. There is just something about being back home with your Mama that brings a sense of security like none other - no matter how old you are. Just ask the kids how much I seemed to enjoy my 2-hour nap. Ooh and the home cooked meal. Almost makes me wish for an Act of God every week.