Nine days in July

Growing up, July 4th was a big holiday. It probably had to do with the sister that was born 15 years before me. She was born on the 4th of July. I remember camping, singing happy birthday to a real live niece of our Uncle Sam and a birthday cake worth $2500 in fines. I'm not sure why I knew that there was a $500 fine for each fire cracker you had possession of, but I did. When we didn't go camping we would sit in our drive way and light off fireworks, the legal kind. It was always a day of family. Sometimes as big as Christmas.

Now, this time of year is all about celebrating my little family.

Each of the first 9 days of July have a memory, a first, a start of something great.

July 1st - We met. It's our "Metcha" day!! We met after work at their foster home. When we pulled up we called their foster mom and she had them walk outside. As I got out of the truck their they stood. We were immediately introduced as "mom" and "dad".

July 2nd - They came to our house. They were terrified of the dogs. We went to eat at La Finca.

July 3rd - They came to stay for a few days. It was the first night we tucked our kids in. We also learned Briana was a night owl. She got up and watched TV with her new dad.

July 4th - We woke up with kids! We ate at the corner doughnut shop. Then we took them to meet Grandma & Grandpa & Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins!! We were excited for them to see what a great big family they belonged to. We had homemade root beer and floats. And while driving home and seeing various firework displays in the distant the kids were in awe and Jake kept saying "look at the fire trucks".

July 5th - We had to take them back to their foster home. They weren't officially ours. We met foster mom and foster grandma at a shopping center and handed them over. Then we just sat there and cried. They had won our hearts. Our lives would never be the same. We couldn't go home to an empty house so we went to the movies. It would never be that easy to go out again.

July 6th - We went to church. Our last quiet Sunday. The last Sunday we would actually be able to pay attention to the speakers. :)

July 7th - Busy day at work. Trying to get everything done so we could take some time off. And telling everyone about our weekend!

July 8th - Visited the kids and packed up the rest of their belonging and said see ya tomorrow.

July 9th - Waited anxiously all morning for the kids and their case worker to arrive. This was our "Gotcha day". Our case worker came too. We signed our "Intent to Adopt".

It was a crazy nine days. I can't imagine meeting someone and moving in with them nine days later. Our kids are strong, sometimes too strong. They have been through more than most of us but have come out on top. Life is not perfect. Life is chaotic. We struggle as a family. We have a long way to go. But we wouldn't trade any of it.

Thinking back 25 years

With the 25th anniversary of the space shuttle Challenger disaster today, I've been thinking of my life as a 17 year old high school senior. I had my first boyfriend, had my first kiss on the beach in the moonlight. I had gotten my driver's license. I was looking forward to graduation. I thought I had all my decisions made. Then my grandpa (dad's dad) was admitted to the hospital, then my grandma mom (mom's grandma). They both passed within weeks of each other. They had both made a huge impact in short 17 years. I've lived more years without them then I did with them, yet there is still a void left by their death. I know death is part of the plan. I know that there is a life after this one. I know this earthly life is just a short span of our eternal life. But still 25 years later there are times that I really miss them both.

My great grandma was born in Glory, Texas. Strange to now live just a few hours from where her life began. She moved to Oklahoma before relocating with her husband and family to Long Beach California. Five and a half years ago I relocated back to Texas with my husband. I feel like I've come full circle. My Grandma Mom (My mom called her mom) always asked me when I was gonna quit getting so beautiful. Back then it embarrassed me. But it gave me something to hold onto as I struggled with my own self confidence. She was a wonderful person. A tom boy who broke the rules. A girl whose brother choped off her finger. I loved listening to her stories. I look at my own daughter now and catch myself asking her when she is going to quit getting so beautiful. I think I'm finally understanding my grandma mom. Oh how I love her and miss her little wrinkly body and strong bold personality. She lived a long 95 years and I love forward to our eternal reunion.

Pancakes, regrets and decisions. Those are the things that grandpa taught me. Pancakes with grandpa make everything perfect. I remember going to his house for made from scratch pancakes. I wish we knew his recipe. But it wasn't the recipe that was important. A new generation has been eating pancakes from the next generation grandpa. Like his dad before him, my dad makes pancakes for his grandkids and great grandkids. They might come from a box, but like I said it wasn't the recipe that was important, it was the man making the pancakes that the overabundant amount of love that he put in them. Regrets, he had none. I don't know anyone who could say that about their life. But when I was 11 years old I overheard him after my Grandma Vada's funeral say to a family member that he had no regrets. Sometimes that revelation will stop me in my tracks. I can't say that I have no regrets but I try harder thinking of grandpa. And 25 years ago, lying in a hospital bed, having pulled his own tube out of his throat twice, he decided his time was done. He wanted to tell all of his grandkids that this was his decision not our parents. I was the first. I went in with my mom. He held my hand and told me that sometimes you have to make decisions in life. Later that evening after seeing all of his grandkids, he left this mortal exsistance and joined his beloved wife in the eternities. There have been some major decisions that I have made in the last 25 years and each time I hear my 90 year old grandpa telling me you have to make decisions. I have prayed to my Heavenly Father and asked his opinion of my decisions and then I always take a moment of silence to ask grandpa.

While we all know death is part of this life I still sit here fighting back the tears thinking of these two very important people in my life and all the wonderful things they taught me in 17 short years. Today I think about the families and friends of those 7 astronauts. I'm sure they were all touched in different ways by those seven. I'm sure the 25 years have not erased their heartache. I hope today as they stopped to reflect back, they had memories as wonderful as mine.