Home of My Heart

When I was born, I was my mother's first child. My mom was sixteen when she got pregnant with me, and she and my dad married when she was about 5 months along. My mother was the youngest of nine children, in a family with six boys and three girls. She was definitely the baby of the family. We lived in my grandparents' house because my mom was so young, and so, the first child of a new mother became, in essence, the tenth child of a very experienced one.

It's Christmas Eve, and my grandma has been gone four days shy of seven months. Grandpa brought her ashes to my house tonight, so she can be here to celebrate with us. When he leaves, he tells me she can stay the night here, and I can bring her to the big family Christmas celebration tomorrow. I'm so touched, I can barely choke out that I'll take care of her. She spent her whole life taking care of me and everyone else in this family. And as frequently as she started sentences with, "When I'm gone...", you would think that I actually would've realized that someday, she really wouldn't be there, still taking care of everyone. But despite that, here she sits, on my desk, watching over me--just like I know she always, always will. 

When I was two years old, we moved out of my grandparents' house--to a trailer in their yard, 30 yards away from their front door. When I was six, we moved--my mom, dad, and then two-year-old brother, three houses down from my grandparents. Three houses down, and you would've thought they were trying to move me to another continent. I hated it. I referred to it at Jerry and Peggy's house (the former owners) for the first several months, until I got in trouble. I didn't want to leave my home. I didn't want to leave my grandma and grandpa.

 I won't be able to tell everything tonight, because I'm not ready for that yet--but I can start. 


When I was fourteen years old, we were tasked with writing an essay for English class, about a place that was special to us. There wasn't a doubt in my mind of where that was for me. This is what I wrote:

     My grandparents have a large house full of dusty old cardboard boxes--many of them forgotten in the attic or out of sight and out of mind in the basement. The rest of the house is full of parrots: Indian Ringnecks, macaws, African Greys, and other exotic birds. My grandma is always baking cookies and cakes. My grandpa always has a funny joke or story to tell. The house is pulsating with life and full of love. 
     The house has meant so much to me in so many ways throughout my whole life. There I learned to ride a bicycle, to cross-stitch, to bake. There I gather with my family to celebrate holidays. There I fostered my love of reading. My grandparents constantly bought me books. I learned of nature in my grandma's flower gardens. Much of who I am has come from my experiences in that house. 
     Responsibility was just one of the virtues my grandparents instilled in me. I learned to feed and water the birds, and to keep their cages clean. All living things need love to prosper, and in that house, they do. I grew knowledgeable about exotic birds and was introduced to my favorite bird, the Scarlet macaw, in that house. I can feed and handle small baby birds because of the patience my grandparents taught me. 
     One of my absolute favorite things about the house, however, is the history it contains. Those old cardboard boxes are full of photo albums, report cards, diaries, and other interesting items. My grandfather also collects antiques, so it's like stepping into the past whenever I look through the boxes. I've learned of my family's past, my heritage, my ancestors, and my roots from the contents of those boxes. I've played with toys that belonged to my mother and her eight brothers and sisters. I've read old books, and played dress up with old clothes. 
     The house is not special because of its location or architectural structure. It's special because it's a home away from home. It always smells like something sweet and warm. It can make me happy no matter what kind of miserable day I've had. It's a safe haven...like no other place I've ever been. It holds two of the most important people in my life--my grandparents. 
     All of my friends love my grandparents' house, too. Those who don't have grandparents refer to mine as theirs, also. Anyone who enters the house instantly feels relaxed, comfortable, and at home. My grandparents and the house itself have that effect on people. This is a place to grow and learn--to leave the outside world behind. My fears and anxiety melt away when I'm in that house, surrounded by love, peace, and happiness. The house is like therapy within itself--a utopia. 
     Who I am and what I am are composed of many different things, but that house is a part of me. All the things I've learned, all the books I've read, all the photographs I've looked at, and the stories I've heard make me a better, more caring person. The significance that old house has had has been to make me the best that I can be--pushing me out into the world, while always remaining constant and true for me to come back to. 


**Grandpa encouraged me to enter my essay in a Grandparents' Day contest that the local newspaper was having. I won. This is me, age 14, reading my essay to my grandparents at the award luncheon.**

This, this place, this old farmhouse in all of its chipped-paint glory, is the home of my heart. I wouldn't have it any other way. But I've come to realize over the years, and especially in the months since my grandmother's death, that so very, very much of the magic of that house came from her. Even the jokes and funny stories that I wrote about in my essay are few and far between from Grandpa these days. Who can blame him? Sixty years is a lifetime. Nine children, over forty grandchildren, and I don't even know how many great grandchildren. A lifetime. And as a woman who now has three children of of my own, and a husband who I'll have my own sixty years with if I'm half as lucky as my grandparents were, I know that as sure as that old house still stands--the one that my mother, myself, and my two oldest babies were born in--that it's my grandma who will always be the true home of my heart.

Taking a Moment...

I haven't written in a long time again. Things are about to change, in ways I don't want to think about, but have to face. I have to prepare myself for the worst, and hope for the best. I just wanted to get through the holidays without worrying about this mess, but unfortunately, it reared it's ugly head. Oh, well. I knew it was coming...but just for a few minutes, before I bury myself in more studying and projects for finals, I will breathe. I will think about the good things in my life, and I will be grateful for the way things are, right now, in this moment...

My Eye Exam

Optometrist: Is this clearer, or blurrier?

Me: It's still blurry.

Optometrist: What about this?

Me: It's blurry. Maybe there's some condensation on the lens?

Optometrist: Oh, let me wipe it off. Here you go. Now, how's this?

Me, laughing nervously: Well, that's blurry too.

Optometrist. Okay...one, or two?

Me, pulling back to blink a few times: They're both fuzzy.

Optometrist: Let's wipe that off again. Okay, let's try this again. One, or two?

Me, wiping my eyes: I can't focus. I don't...I don't know. They both still look fuzzy to me. I've never had this happen before.

Optometrist: Okay, come on out here.

I blindly follow. I have always had terrible nearsightedness. I have an astigmatism in my right eye. I found out during a retinal scan at another eye exam two years ago that I had undiagnosed, and therefore untreated, amblyopia as a child. It wasn't apparent, since I didn't have the characteristic "lazy eye" look, but it's made my vision much worse. 

Optometrist: We're going to take a picture of your eye. Have a seat here.

Optician: Ok, just look at the blinking light. You'll see the flash when I take the picture.

I'm blinded even further by the dazzling flash aimed at my eyes. I get pictures of both eyes taken, then sit back, rubbing my eyes again. I put my glasses back on, and blink at the image of my eye, blown up to show the detail. I stare at it on the screen, about 20 inches tall, and even though my vision is still blurred, somehow I know something is wrong. 

Optician, pointing with her pen to the area around the image of my macula on the screen: Dr., is this...

Optometrist: Well, let me take a closer look.

He looks at the screen, then turns to me slowly. My heart starts beating a little faster. 

Optometrist: Does anyone in your family have macular degeneration?

Me: Yes, my grandma had it.

My heart is in my throat as he points to the area on the screen that the optician had indicated. 

Optometrist: Well, this is drusen. They're deposits around the retina. It's early stage macular degeneration.

Me: I...what?

Optometrist: You're much too young for this to be happening.

Me: What am I supposed to do?

I'm in a half-state of shock. One of my greatest fears is going blind. I once accidentally put in my husband's contacts (he has much better vision than me, so everything appeared very blurry) and I called him, my mom, and my best friend crying, thinking that I was going blind. It was funny at the time, but now...

Optometrist: It can't be reversed. You need to take daily vitamins, fish oil supplements, and eat a diet low in bad fats and high in good ones. Frequent cardiovascular exercise and staying in good shape are imperative.

I tell him I eat pretty well and exercise already, but he tells me I have to do more. He starts discussing atherosclerosis and the evils of the American diet, but I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around this. All I can think of is what a hard time Grandma had with her macular degeneration...and how she didn't develop it until later in life...so what the hell was going on with me? 

Optometrist: We need to continue to take pictures to track what's going on. You're just really, really too young for this.

He looks at me sympathetically. He tells me if there's anything they can do for me, to let them know. I just look at him. What am I supposed to say? How the hell do I know what I need? He picks up my chart and makes a notation on it.

Optometrist, looking at my chart: Well, this certainly changes things.

I look at the optician. She's silent. I think she suspected some issues when she did the initial examination. I can tell she feels bad for me. The atmosphere has changed. There's a heaviness in the silence. I manage make my follow up appointment and make it out to the car before I start to cry. I call my mom, and drive the couple of minutes home to my husband. I cry to both of them. I tell my husband that thing that scares me most is not being able to see my children's faces, or someday, my grandkids'. He holds me and lets me get the tears out. We look up more information, including the foods I need to eat for optimal eye health. I tell him I'm afraid of the heredity factor, because I don't want any of our kids to have it. There's obviously nothing I can do, but I feel terrible. 

How someone with advanced macular degeneration sees: 

As macular degeneration develops, clear, normal vision (shown. left) becomes impaired by a general haziness. With advanced macular degeneration, a blind spot forms at the center of your visual field (shown right)

The main things affected by macular degeneration are reading (horrible, I love to read), driving (self-explanatory), and my biggest fear: recognition of faces. While I'm not going to go blind next week, we really don't know what the outcome is going to be. I have such bad vision and so many other issues already. To top it off, my nearsightedness has drastically changed for the worse since my last exam. Even though it can't be reversed, I'm hoping I can improve my odds of diminished central visual acuity for as long as possible by doing all the "right" things. It's scary, though. I'm only 27 years old. I really am way too young for this.

When Things Come Together...

...it's easier to not fall apart. I feel compelled to share my experience with Postpartum depression. PPD affects a lot of women--probably more than even realize what they're experiencing. The CDC reports up to 20%, but those are just the ones who've sought help. It could be much higher. I experienced a horrible bout of PPD after my twins, but it took me almost six months to get diagnosed. Everyone experiences it in different ways. Mine was intense anger. Intense. I didn't think about hurting my babies, although that can be common in PPD. My anger was directed at everyone else around me. Nobody seemed to understand, nobody seemed willing to help, and severe lack of sleep and support took their toll. I had trouble breastfeeding, so I suffered feelings of inadequacy, and was really angry at myself too. Looking back, I could've had more help, especially from my grandparents, if I wouldn't have had such an overwhelming fear of letting go of some of the control. I felt that something would happen to my babies if I let them out of my sight for too long. My parents helped some in the first weeks, but right around that time, they got divorced. I was in isolation from friends, partially from having just moved back to my hometown before getting pregnant, partially from being on bedrest literally the entire second half of the pregnancy, and partially because of my age--the early 20s can be an awkward time to have children.

This time, things have been different. I still experienced PPD with my six month-old, but I'm positive that a LARGE part of that was because my grandmother was sick in the hospital from the time he was a few weeks old. She passed away when he was just five weeks old. My grandma helped raise me, she was a huge part of my life. I still can't believe she's gone most days, and I'm still grieving. The point is, I got treatment much sooner this time, at about four weeks from delivery. I still had trouble breastfeeding, but I tried, and was able to deal with it better when I realized I just wasn't providing enough nutrition. I still have my bad days, but there's a world of difference from last time. I'm older. I have experience (and yes, one is SO much easier than two!). I have a mellow baby who was born about a month further along in development than his siblings. I have my husband, who is the best father I could possibly hope for for my children. I have experienced so much more, and have learned there's always a light at the other end of the tunnel. This time, I can breathe. I can laugh. I can let things go.

If you think you might be experiencing PPD, please, please get checked out. Too many families have suffered. Too many mothers have lost out on valuable bonding time with their babies. Too many children have gotten seriously injured, or worse. It's not a shameful thing, it happens. With treatment and time, it does get better--but without them, it could result in tragedy. Talk about it, get support, and get help.

Avoidance

I've been avoiding you.

Well, not you. I think about you everyday, often many times throughout the day.

I think about you when things are going well, and I think about you when they're not.

I remember. And I'm doing you a disservice by not putting it all down, here, where I write about the things that are important to me.

I can't yet.

I can't face the emotions that will come with writing it all down. I can't dredge it all up yet, or I might crumble. I mean, just writing this, the tears are streaming down my cheeks and my heart is in my throat.

And so, I avoid, avoid, avoid.

I hope you understand. When the time comes that I can handle it, I promise, I'll let it out. I'll put it all down. I'll share the story of the strongest, most beautiful soul I've ever known. The story of my angel.

I miss you so very, very much, Grandma. I love you.

Love and Marriage Go Together Like a Horse and Carriage

I've been so busy moving, I've neglected my blog. I have a lot to do today, but I decided to jot down a thought quickly. 

Many people say that marriage just doesn't mean as much anymore as it used to. 

I disagree.

I think that it means much, much more than it used to. Think about it--for centuries, marriage was just expected. It's what you did, no questions asked. It provided stability, increased familial wealth, united territories, prevented (and sometimes started) wars, was the only socially acceptable way to conceive children, and on and on and on. 

These days, you don't have to get married. Women, while still behind in the workplace, can make their own way in the world through education and/or careers. It's no longer absolutely taboo to have children out of wedlock. Land, property, family farms, estates, male heirs, etc. don't play into our lives the way they used to. The divorce rate being so high would seem to contradict my point, but it strengthens it. 

In the face of all these things, choosing to marry someone these days really is a commitment, a promise, and a bond that speaks volumes of your love and dedication to your spouse. It means you're in it for the long haul, come hell or high water. Do people still get married for stupid reasons? Of course. But if you willingly wait until the right person comes into your life, and you know that you will always love them no matter what, and they you--consider yourself lucky. 

I do. 

Environmental Conservation #1

I have a deep passion for the protection of our natural resources. I've taken Environmental Sociology, Environmental Conservation, and have done research and presentations for some of my other classes regarding various environmental topics. I'm going to share a tip here and there regarding things we can all do to help the cause. Some of this will be old news to some, but there may be novel concepts as well here and there.

Let's start with the basics. The energy it takes to produce one aluminum can is equal to the amount it takes to power a TV for three hours. Many states, including Iowa, give a redemption refund. Instead of throwing cans away, turn them in, give them to the neighbor kid, donate them to a school, etc. Simple step, comes with a personal reward, and saves landfill space while conserving energy. As Michael Scott would say, "win, win, win."

Please feel free to share this link and pass this information along. It is the responsibility of every human being that breathes the air, drinks the water, eats the food grown in the ground, enjoys the shade, appreciates the flowers, and so on and on and on, to do their part to protect Mother Earth.

                                                                       

Inspiration

I mentioned in my first entry (here) that some blogs inspire me. One of the main ones is written by my mother-in-law, Deb. It's called Coffee With Chloe, and it's fantastic. Before my husband and I started dating, when we were still just friends, I found out his mom was an English teacher. I thought that was great, and then when we started getting serious and I knew I was going to meet his parents, I started feeling a little intimidated. One of the MANY careers I've been interested in during my life has been being an English teacher. One of the most influential people in my young life was my AP English teacher, Mary Taylor. I honed my love of words, reading, writing, and looking beyond what was on the page to the subtext, the imagery, the symbolism, the raw emotion, and the sheer capacity for change that the written word possesses in her class. I knew without meeting Deb that this woman would be amazing, so needless to say, I wanted to make a good impression--and I was so nervous! I made my then boyfriend stop at a local bar when we got close to the lake (a four hour drive from us) where my in-laws stay during the summer, so I could take a  tequila shot before I met his family (shhh, don't tell them!).

Well, I was right about her being amazing. She, my father-in-law, my husband's grandmother, and his aunt all made me feel right at home. The nervousness dissipated quickly, and while I was still a little shy, I knew then that someday this would be my family. I felt so lucky. No one could ask for more caring, down to earth people to have as in-laws. As for Deb, if you read her blog, you'll know that she's so much more than an English teacher. Speech, debate, and drama are all part of her repertoire, but that's not all I mean. She truly cares. Her students mean so much to her. You see it all the time--teachers get burnt out, and they stop caring after a certain number of years. Not Deb. She is passionate, and she's exactly what our children need and deserve in a teacher.

Sometimes, I think we're a lot alike. We're strong women. We have aspirations that go beyond what seems possible. Family is so important to us. We love to read, to laugh, to share, to inspire. We love a good glass of wine, a good book, musicals, old movies, and a good cry. We can be a little too tough sometimes, maybe a little too smart for our own good, and perhaps a little too insightful too--which can lead to trouble once in awhile! We realize we are works in progress. We know through persistence, the world can change. We are idealistic some days, and cynical others. We care too much about other people some days. Other days, we're afraid we don't care enough. We can express ourselves well out loud, but even better in written words. I see this woman in myself all of the time, and I'm not surprised that my husband and I ended up together. He is attracted to a strong, caring, passionate, intelligent kind of woman, because that is who raised him to be the man that he is. And that's exactly how I want my boys to be.

While I will never change who I fundamentally am to please others, I strive to emulate characteristics that I admire in others--ones that are already within me, but when consciously acted upon, make me a better person. Well, Deb is one of those people for me. No one has it all figured out in this crazy life, but I think she's doing a pretty good job of raising the curve. I love you, Deb. Thank you for being an inspiration to me.

Possibilities

I'm having one of those days. Usually when I say that, it doesn't really have a positive connotation. Today is different. Today is one of those days that seems like life is filled with endless possibilities, and I need only affirm my resolve, do a little proverbial buckling down, and dive in. Leap, and the net shall appear, right? I have the potential to do great things in my life, I just need to see it through. It means a lot of hard work, but we all make the choice to succeed or to fail on a daily basis. Today, I choose to fly.

                                                                       

How Do You Define Yourself?

I remember reading and discussing in a Women's Studies class I took many moons ago (around 2001, so forgive me that I don't remember specifics) that women, when asked, tend to define themselves with their relationships to other people--daughter, sister, wife, mother, etc. Men, however, define themselves by what they do--engineer, mechanic, writer, etc. I've consciously thought about that when asked about myself for the last ten years, whether I've been working, staying home with my kids, going to school, or any combination of the three. Let me set the record straight--the most important thing in the world to me is my family. Period. However, there are so many more things about me than just being my kids' mom, or my husband's wife, or my parents' child. I have so many interests, passions, and skills--which I'm cultivating every day, whether I'm covered in spit up, debating a point in class, hanging out with friends, or writing this blog while I make dinner, tell the twins a story, bounce the baby on my knee, and mentally review material for an upcoming test. "Who are you" can be a loaded question, if you let it be. As for me, I think I'll just let you get to know me...and then you can answer that question for yourself.

Pink Ribbons Abound

I've been sick, my husband had oral surgery today, and I've been very busy with my classes and the kids (side note: I SWEAR we didn't have this much stuff going on with school when I was young!) so, I've neglected my blog for a few days. Just a quick update then off to cross things off my to-do list.

I've been working on things I can do to be kinder (see here) and small things to make the world a better place. I just ordered half a dozen things from the Greater Good site to help fund mammograms for women who are uninsured or underinsured. You can do it too--click here!

As for kindness, I bought a fundraiser coupon book from a kid who was selling them to raise money for his hockey team. Not many people had purchased them and he was genuinely grateful. It made a not so big gesture feel pretty good. Nothing earth shattering here, but again--small things really can make a big difference. I'll continue working on it, and I hope you do too.

Hello, Dalai!

"My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness." --The Dalai Lama

This isn't really a theological debate...although I may venture into that territory someday if I'm feeling squirrely. 

This is simply a one human being beseeching other human beings to be gentle with one another. You never know what people are going through. We all know someone who may come off as grouchy, hard to get along with, or just plain irritable. The thing is, we have no way of knowing if they're trying to be difficult, or if there's an actual reason (or several) for their behavior. If you show others kindness and consideration, and they still snap at you, at least you know you're being the best person you can be. And isn't that worth something?

So, I'm giving myself a challenge, and I propose that you try it as well. This week, extend compassion to at least one other person every day. There are countless ways to accomplish this: holding a door for someone who has their hands full, letting someone who seems to be in a hurry take your place in line at the store, calling someone you haven't spoken to in awhile and checking in, visiting a lonely neighbor, and so on. I try to be kind most of the time, but the point is to be more aware of it for awhile, so that it becomes more of a second nature. I am a true believer in karma, and I believe you get back what you put out there in the universe. However, if you do so with selfish intentions--karma knows. Practice being kind for the sake of kindness, and see how it enriches your life. I'll report back with some reflections on my quest to be a kinder, more compassionate human being. I hope you'll do the same.

Things to Come

I've got buckets of reading/studying to do for the two tests and quiz that I have coming up this week (ah, the week a new semester starts getting serious--never fails to roll around when you have a hundred "other" things going on) so I just wanted to post today to keep myself accountable. Nothing too specific, but I want to list a few subjects that I'd like to visit in coming posts:

1) Book discussions
2) More about "what I want to be when I grow up"
3) Things that I most likely won't study/obtain a degree in (or might, who knows what the future holds!), but that I am interested in and/or passionate about
4) Environmental conservation
5) Pushing the boundaries of my comfort zone to make myself a better, more well-rounded individual
6) Places I'd like to go, and why I want to go there
7) What I can do to make the world a better place
8) Accountability for #7--choose some things, do them, and write about the experience
9) Leaving an indelible legacy

And much, much more. These are not in any particular order, nor am I choosing to put a time limit on anything. I'm hoping to use this blog for self-reflection, as a learning tool (and hopefully a teaching one, in some respects),  and a way to help get me to some of the places I wish to eventually be, both literally and figuratively.

"Eye" Wonder...

"If everyone took an eye for an eye, the whole world would be blind"

While stopped at a red light the other day, I saw that on a bumper sticker on the car ahead of me. Now that's something to think about. Sometimes, I know I can get a little caught up in my desire for vindication when it comes to certain situations. But I've been reminded lately that you really do have to choose your battles. If you don't, you'll go crazy. It's not worth the stress. I have more important things to do--we all do. I should mention, however, that this theory does not apply to college football. Now, it's been nice writing this quick little snippet of a thought, dear reader, but I have to go watch the Iowa game. GO HAWKS!!!

So, I've Been Thinking...

I've got to get back into writing. I've had this blog for a year, and this will be my first post. I've started a few blogs here and there before and let them go by the wayside. I read and like plenty of blogs, and have been inspired by some (more about that in another post).

Anyway, for my first post in this blog, I think I want to list some things that I find to be positive in my life, things that I'm thankful for, regardless of the fact that Thanksgiving is a few months away (is that all? Already??).

1) My kids and my husband
I have a lot to be grateful for here. There's nothing better than seeing your children smile, hearing them laugh, kicking their butts because they're fighting/screaming/crying/biting/drawing on the walls/spitting up on you right after a shower/eating an entire bottle of gummy vitamins and prompting a call to the poison control center at 6 am and loving them unconditionally anyway. It's good stuff. They never fail to make me smile. And the husband? Last week, he washed a load of dishes (never mind that his idea of a "load" of dishes is a plate, two cups, and a fork), and then went to the store to get dog food. Two minutes after he left I hear his key in the door, and while I'm looking on in surprise to see him and wondering what he forgot, he marches over to the top of the fridge, grabs his wedding ring that he put there while washing the dishes, puts it on, gives me a kiss, points at the ring on his finger, and walks out the door without a word. Come on now, I don't care who you are, that's sweet. He may be a pain in the rear sometimes (like when he threw an entire toddler bed across the room a few years ago when he was having trouble building it, or when he broke our daughter's window while helping her "clean her room" right before my dad showed up for a visit), but he's my pain in the rear, and I wouldn't change it for the world.

2) Health 
Pretty self explanatory. Mine is improving as I pay more attention to it, and that's always a good thing. Losing my grandma this year made me think a lot more about what I put into my body and how I want to take care of it so I can be healthy and accomplish all I want to do in this life. As far as family, most of mine is doing pretty well, with a few exceptions, so positive thoughts and love to them.

3) Things are difficult, but (almost) always end up working out in the end...
This is something I'm learning more and more each year. It's funny how priorities shift with the passage of time, and what once seemed important doesn't matter at all. I like to think of my life with a few different mantras--'Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best,' and my life, as well as myself as a person--'It takes both sunshine and rain to make a Rainbow.' I'm liking my late 20s. I'm learning a lot more about human nature. I'm growing as a human being, a student, a wife, and a mom. My thought process is evolving, and I'm learning to take some things in stride, to fight more passionately for others, and to stay true to myself.

4) I'm a life long learner, and I love it
When I was in ELP (many school districts refer to it as TAG), we studied the model of the life long learner. It was something we were taught to aspire to. I always wondered how I would accomplish this, because it seemed so straightforward: I would graduate high school, go to college, get a job, and the ways of the world would automatically bestow themselves upon my brain by the time I was an adult. (Go ahead, you can laugh at me--but I'll bet at least a few of you thought this way too). The things I mentioned in #3 are things that I'm still learning, but I do mean that in the classroom sense, too. I've gone back to school so many times that I should hold a Ph.D. Oh well. I've learned a lot in these many years, and one of them is that I have a TON of interests. I think (and I hope) that I'm going to have at least a few careers in my lifetime. And that excites me, and makes me look forward to the future.

There are a lot more things for me to be grateful about, and I'm sure I'll write about those in coming posts, as well as discover new ones along the way. I'll tell you one more thing I'm grateful for before I go:

5) Each new Day, even the Rainy ones...