Rachelle D. Alspaugh's Blog, page 17

Things never go as planned, do they?

Starting the week on Valentine's Day should have made for a nice, fun week, right? Especially knowing that I didn't have to cook dinner on Monday night. And so many people came to school that day dressed in pink, my happy color!

But things started to look a little fishy on Tuesday morning. It was pajama day, but despite wearing my pajamas, the atmosphere didn't seem very calm and relaxed. I had a previous student from about ten years ago observing me via Zoom while I tried to keep my class of antsy 7 year olds in their routine despite all wearing pajamas instead of their normal standard uniform. (When you teach at a school with uniforms, any kind of free dress day makes the kids act like it's Halloween, and any teacher can tell you how difficult teaching on Halloween can be.) Anyway, we reviewed our vocabulary, read our story, asked questions and made life applications, then a small group went out with another teacher, I called a single student to work with me at my table, and the rest of the kids went back to work on a computer program at their seats, knowing restroom time would come in about 20 minutes. 

But then the drama began. 

A student had complained of a stomach ache (as second graders do often), and I sent him to the restroom. But then he returned to my table to tell me he felt like he was going to throw up. Why I didn't send him back to the restroom or tell him to keep the trashcan near, I don't know. Probably because the focus has been on COVID for so long that I forgot there are other ailments that kids get. So I told him to wait a second while I wrote him a pass for the nurse. But in the five seconds it took me to grab the pass to write his name, he started to vomit all over the floor in front of the doorway. And I'll just be honest with you, it always takes me a few seconds to process and respond to pretty much anything. By the time I grabbed a trashcan and gave it to him, telling him to walk with the trash can all the way to the nurses office, my entire doorway was a big pool of vomit. And as the door closed behind him, we were trapped inside with that pukey sight and smell until clean up arrived. 

Except that the nurse called for someone to bring the kids' backpack so he could go home, meaning I had to send a student to bravely jump across the vomit pool to take the backpack to the office. Oh, and my small group that worked with the other teacher came back and knocked on the door, meaning I had to find another brave soul to try to open the door for them, and then those three students freaked out and didn't want to come back in the room. 

And don't forget, I had a college student sitting there observing me on the other side of the screen. 

What a mess.

Clean up finally arrived, and we finally got to leave the room for our normal restroom break. Needless to say, not much focus or learning happened during the last half of that Reading time. Took us quite a while to settle back down.

Later that day, another teacher saw me in the hallway and warned me that a stomach bug was going around and was very contagious. I had parent conferences scheduled all week, and I had just confirmed an appointment for Thursday. When she said that, the thought crossed my mind, "I hope I don't have to cancel that Thursday appointment because I'm sick."

Well, thankfully, Wednesday went much smoother. It was cowboy day, so I enjoyed wearing my boots that David got me and the black cowboy hat that David had gotten Mike for Christmas. I got a lot of complements on it all day long. My conferences all went smoothly, even the one I had to do by phone for the kid who had gone home sick the day before. His mom said he threw up all day, ran a fever that night, but that he was much better the second day and would return to school on Thursday. 

I got home, ate a quick dinner of leftovers, and went to ReEngage. I was home and in bed by nine, only to be awakened two hours later with an uneasy stomach. Ugh. Within an hour, I was puking my guts out--all night long. 

So much for parent conferences the rest of the week, because I missed both Thursday and Friday trying to recover. 

Here's to hoping for a better week this week, still filled with college student observations, more parent conferences, and lots of required testing. Never a dull moment, for sure. 

So far it's starting off well, with a morning coffee date with David before he went back to school today (he came home to switch out trucks and finish a project with his dad on his own truck). 

Treasured morning snuggles

 

After hours of searching on foot, calling shelters, driving ever so slowly down nearby streets, praying, crying, and finally knocking on almost every door on my street to show them a picture of my missing kitty, I walked the final stretch of my street toward home with a stiff, terrified kitty in my arms. And so much relief in my heart.
I think I knocked on at least 20 doors, met neighbors I've sadly never met before (very nice people, by the way), and as I stood waiting for someone to answer at one house, I noticed a man arrive home with his children at the next house. I almost decided not to bother them because they'd just gotten home, but then I changed my mind, knowing I had to try every single house. They had a larger porch area than most, uncovered, with absolutely nothing on it, except for an old t-shirt thrown in the corner by the wall.
I knocked and heard one of the kids say, "Who could that be?" The dad answered, "I have no idea."
When the man opened the door, I introduced myself as their neighbor from down the street, and I showed him a picture of my kitty and said, "I lost my cat."
He glanced at the corner of his porch, and said, "That one?"
I said, "What one?" Then I saw where he pointed to the corner by the wall, under a dark t-shirt, two little eyes buried in black fur looked out into space, not even at me. He little body didn't even move. I wondered immediately if he was dead or dying, and if they just laid him in the corner, not knowing what to do with him." 
I knew those little eyes immediately, and as relieved as I was to see him, my heart sank thinking he might not make it. Especially when he didn't respond at all to seeing me or hearing my voice. My little kitty, normally full of boundless energy and personality, sat there in the corner stiffly, completely unresponsive. The man said he'd been sleeping there all afternoon and hadn't moved, so they put a t-shirt over him to keep him warm.
I rushed over to him and asked, "Is he sick?" He said he didn't know, that he tried to feed him some food (some fish), but he wouldn't eat.
I said, "Yes, this is my cat." I had some of his treats in my hand, so I put them down for him, but he didn't budge at all. He just looked at them. So I scooped up his trembling body in my arms, and he remained in a stiff little ball, still completely unresponsive to me. 
The man looked apologetically at me and said, "I'm sorry. If I had known he was yours', I would have given him to you." Super nice people.
I thanked him and walked away with my baby in my arms, just hoping he wasn't terribly sick or hurt. After we passed a house or two, he finally started to loosen up a little and lifted his head as I walked. I was just so thankful to have ended my pursuit having found him, walking back home with my precious little kitty. I wondered if I might need to call a vet as soon as we got home.
As we walked up the path to our house, he didn't feel so stiff anymore, and by the time we reached our door, he immediately started to squirm, so anxious to get inside. I set him down, he sniffed a few things around him, and then he quickly scarfed down the treats I put on the floor for him. I fed him his canned food, and he ate it up right away. I gave him a bath and snuggled with him in front of the heater while his fur dried. 
He jumped up on his favorite spot on the couch, curled up by a blanket, and slept there for the next several hours. He moved about a bit more slowly than normal, but by evening, he was meowing again and purring like crazy, When it was time for bed, he snuggled up in his normal spot on a sleeping bag tucked behind my bed on the windowsill, and we fell asleep together like always. 
This morning when I set down my coffee and he jumped up into my lap, I held him and snuggled with him just a little bit longer, so thankful to have him back home, so thankful for the way God guided me to that house at just the right time. Had I gone there even just a few minutes earlier before they had gotten home, I may not have even noticed little Boots over in the corner under the dark t-shirt. And he was obviously so traumatized by that point that he wouldn't have responded to me. 

I think God might be telling me to stop taking those tender moments (and those that I love) for granted. This comes on the heels of not being able to get in touch with someone I care about very deeply (my son's biological brother) for over two months, and finally hearing from him on Thursday of this week. It also follows after my husband and son being gone for three solid weeks, in an area that had very spotty cell-service, so we had very minimal communication at times over those three weeks. No lie, I really struggled emotionally as each day and week passed. I held my husband's arm a little tighter as he sat beside me in church last night. I communicated with my son through texts a little more purposefully while communicating about my search for the cat. I made sure to take the time to respond with more emotion and detail to my other son's brother, who I'm so thankful to be back in contact with after two months of not knowing anything about him.
I absolutely despised the stress of not being able to reach the ones that I love so dearly, kitty included, but I will admit that I treasure them a bit more now that I had to live without them briefly. 

Lessons from my kitten

 I wrote this back in December for my writer's group, polishing up a poem I wrote many years ago, but I never ended up publishing the blog post. Today I share it with a sad heart, as my little fur baby went missing yesterday. I had to practice the lesson he taught me as I am trusting God to take care of him out in the cold, hoping He will bring him back home to me. Sure did miss his snuggles this morning, but more than my sadness for me, I am very sad for him to be away from home and lost out in the cold. He's serious about getting in his snuggle time, and I can't imagine how he fared last night. I'm headed out to look for him again this morning.

Lessons from my kitten

 Mornings can be rough, even for a morning person. Added stress and hormonal changes can easily turn into restless, sleepless nights more often than I can count. Though I cherish meeting with God in the early morning hours before heading to work, many days I struggle to roll out of bed. After I’ve pressed snooze at least twice, I finally stumble my way out of the bedroom into the hallway.

After that, I follow a consistent routine. Find the canned cat food, open a new can, spoon out a quarter of the can for each supposedly famished cat (or at least that’s what they want me to think). I save the rest of the can, spoon and all, in the refrigerator so it doesn’t spoil before dinner time. Then I make my way toward the coffee maker, where my thyroid medicine and cup of water wait for me. 

I swallow my daily morning pill with the water sitting in a cup on the counter before I grab a mug from the hook, fill it with water to dump into the top of the Keurig coffee machine so I can make myself my first steaming cup of coffee to start my day. Now I’m finally ready to sit down in my prayer corner, pull out my journal and Bible, and spend the first part of my day with God. 

By the time I sit down and barely set my mug down on the shelf beside me, my kitten doesn’t skip a beat before jumping into my lap. If I’m not careful, he will often jump up on me so quickly that he nearly spills my coffee before I have a chance to even set it down. 

At first I’m annoyed as I haven’t even taken a sip of my coffee yet, but how can I resist those little white paws snuggling right up on my chest? Before I reach my hands toward him to pet his soft fur, he’s already purring loudly. So I rub my hands up and down the fur on both sides of his little body, his neck, and his ears. I cup his little face in my hands and eskimo kiss him as we sit eye to eye, nose to nose. Such a precious little fellow, just wanting to start his day out all snuggled in my arms. He knows he is safe and secure with me. 

While I feel his purring against my chest, God speaks to me through my kitten’s simple desire to begin his day in my arms. I whisper sweet nothings to this little ball of fur, and I hear God saying he wants to whisper those sweet nothings in my ear first thing each day. He wants me to crawl up in his lap and just let him hold me close. When I am in his arms, I am safe. I am secure. I am loved and cherished. 

A little kitten teaches me what really matters, showing me the most valuable way to start my day, regardless of how well I did or didn’t sleep the night before. Regardless of the stressful situations already waiting for me at work. The coffee can wait. 

In my Shepherd’s Arms

In the darkness of the morning

While the light has not yet dawned

Life can feel so overwhelming

As I face today and beyond.

Some hopes already shattered

Faith wants to crumble at my feet.

Strength stolen from my body, 

I can barely stand the heat. 

As I release it all to God,

Surrender ushers in rest.

Like a lamb in my Shepherd’s arms,

I lay my head upon His chest. 

He holds me close to His heart,

Lets me cry out every tear.

His presence eases the tension

And slowly calms my fear. 

When I let Him carry me

Down valleys I’ve not been before.

Weaknesses turn into strengths,

And I feel confident to soar.  

I see purpose in the chaos,

I see provision for my needs.

I feel comfort in His embrace

And safely follow where He leads.

Childhood buddies

One of Juan David's childhood friends from his orphanage also came to Texas with Kidsave a year or so after Juan David came here with his sister. He was adopted shortly after and has lived in Austin, TX ever since. 

A year after we finally completed Juan's adoption, he and his buddy reconnected on social media, and we got to visit with him for an afternoon.

They stayed in touch on social media for the last few years, until last summer, Juan decided to take a road trip to go see him. They had such an amazing weekend together reminiscing all of their childhood memories, and they made a pact to get healthier together and to keep each other accountable in many areas of their lives. They bought matching cross rings, and they check in with each other every single day. Juan's entire demeanor changed since that weekend, and I've thanked God many times for that reconnection in his life. 

This weekend his buddy and his adoptive mom (also Colombian) decided to spend the weekend here in Dallas. What a great time we all spent together. They went bowling, went to the aquarium, went out to eat at La Madeleine, and had some long, deep conversations about where they came from, where they are now, and where they're headed. We all went to church together, ate some good Colombian food, and even danced a little to some Colombian music. 

It turned out to be a really nice surprise on this MLK Jr. weekend. Any chance to connect with my son's childhood is priceless to me. And to see him light up when he's with someone who knows his siblings, his story, and where he came from--even better. I even got to give his buddy both of my books. To think that he was there in the orphanage with Juan while the entire first book happened, when the adoption failed, and to know he gets to/wants to read it all now gives me goosebumps. 

I love watching God continue to write my son's story and am still so humbled to be part of it.

Less than 36 hours

Well, Mike and David finally made it home after a long, complicated drive back from Indiana due to snow and ice and a blown tire on the trailer. What normally takes about 13 hours took closer to seventeen. But they thankfully made it here safely by about 2:45 in the morning on Sunday. We gave each other hugs, and then we all went straight to bed.

Sunday consisted of unloading the truck, doing tons of laundry, napping, watching the Cowboys game, and eating chips and queso and pizza. 

This morning, Mike and I sat at the table together with our coffee and read a bunch of old letters he brought back that I'd written to him in high school and college. Man, I sure did add a whole lot of drama to our relationship! LOL I know I saved all of his letters to me in a box somewhere, but I haven't been able to find where I put that box. I may have to go searching for it later today.

As soon as he finished reading them, he got dressed and headed back to work--less than 34 hours after he got home.

David and I went out for a quick cup of coffee and a game of Skipbo at our favorite coffee shop, and then he headed right back to school, less than 36 hours after getting home.

And that pretty much sums up the whirlwind of David's winter break.  I'm sad I missed out on more time with him, but I'm thankful he took the time to go grab coffee and play a game with me today rather than sleeping in later this morning. He worked NON-stop during those three weeks in Indiana, with barely a day or two to sleep in, but he said he enjoyed every bit of his time there. I'm sure it's going to take a few more coffee/skipbo dates to really hear how it all went. I guess I'll just have to drive toward DBU on a weekend here and there to catch up with him. 

A cold, teary day

Today was just a cold, teary kind of day. 

They laid my husband's father to rest today, all the while celebrating his life, his personality, and all he contributed to others in his 70 years of life. 

There is a peace knowing he no longer suffers from the dementia that had progressed so rapidly over the last few months, filling him with extreme anxiety as his memory came and went at any given moment. To see the scared "child" he became while trapped in the body of the confident man we knew was heartbreaking. For that reason, we have peace that God took him sooner rather than later. 

But seeing a final date after the dash really hits you, as does seeing that empty shell of a body in the casket, closing the casket, and carrying it out to his burial plot. His life and his purpose came to an end (except for the things he passed on that will continue to live out in his sons and grandchildren, or the impact he made on those he came into contact with). I wish I could have been there with Mike, his mom, and his brothers as they experienced all those things today. But for some reason, God kept me and Juan back at home, sending David and Mike on to Indiana before COVID hit. 

I suppose I could have gotten a rapid test at the (very) last minute and gone ahead alone, but it would have meant leaving Juan to care for himself, and the mom in me couldn't do that. He lived through too many needy moments in his life without a mom to tend to him. As long as God still has him in my home, I will continue to fill in those gaps and respond to his needs. Plus I never would have forgiven myself if COVID turned on him and got worse like it did me a little over a year ago, and like it has done to so many--or if I had developed symptoms later in Indiana and exposed my mother-in-law. Her recent cancer has left her with a very weakened immune system, and I just couldn't risk that. 

So today I sat alone in tears all morning, shifting between my couch and the kitchen table, praying for peace and comfort over them, exchanging texts and pictures with my son, my sister-in-law, and my mother-in-law before and after the service and the burial. I absolutely hated not being there as a family.  Out of all the funerals to have to miss, your spouse's parent should not be one of them.

However, I do see now that God meant for David to be there more than me, and this event will stay with him for as long as he lives. He and Mike are so close, and so much alike. I'm so proud of David for how he just stepped in and has done whatever has been needed during his break. They're able to do and accomplish so much more with him there. That is the mentality and work ethic his grandfather instilled in his son who then passed it on to his grandson. Plus his grandmother is now able to actually get to know her grandson that grew up so far away from her. 

Mike also commented to me that as much as he wished I were there, he realized that my absence freed him up to be able to take care of his mom's physical and emotional needs. He is the oldest son, and it is obvious that she looks to him for her guidance and protection now--and has done so ever since her husband started going downhill over the last few months. 

Here are a few pics that they shared with me throughout the morning to try to include me, as well as some other memories they have made so far on this trip. 

A little golf course inside the casket. After the service. Pallbearers were Mike, Matt, and Mark, along with David, Uncle Mike (Stan's youngest brother), and Mark (Matt's father-in-law)
First car in the funeral procession

Peggy and her three sons
And her oldest grandson, David
And a few other memories made: Playing cards together on Christmas night, soon after they arrived. 
Watching the Cowboys game together with our new Christmas gift attire (I got her the hat and scarf, Mike got her the blanket--and fuzzy socks you can't see)
(Juan got me the jersey)

All bundled up again to go out in the cold
Chicken n Noodles and biscuits, an Alspaugh specialty that Peggy makes every time her boys come to visit.
They got the crane running, almost ready to sell, and actually figured out how to use it.
David operating the bobcat they borrowed from Mike's friend
Fixing up the dump truck 
A little snow that didn't stick around long
Oldest and youngest Alspaugh cousins (I think), David and Wes
To read more about Stan's life, click on this link below:

https://www.redpathfruthfuneralhome.com/obituary/StanleyStan-Alspaugh?fbclid=IwAR2i3BQrsHgqdlLvQEzz7xyhddwYczk-jFJYznqyqZm-ehrXJO6bOnpvsis

Word for 2022

So, I've been praying about what word God might give me to help me navigate through 2022. It's tempting to look through words and ponder over which one I'd like, but that's not usually how it works. And even if I do pick/get a word that I like, the reality usually doesn't match my first impression of what that word means. 

When 2020 started, I felt God give me the word RELEASE. Little did I know all that God would have me release into His hands throughout that year, including my anger, my expectations of David's senior year, and everything I ever knew about educating children. I had to release my "right" to expecting life to continue as it always had in the past, to teach the way we always did, to celebrate my son's senior year milestones, etc. 

At the end of the year, my pastor preached a sermon about our need to RELEASE our grip in order to RECEIVE what He wants for us. In that moment, I knew I had my answer to my prayer as to what word He chose to give me as I navigated through 2021. I opened my hands wide, positioning myself to receive whatever God wanted to give me. 

Sounds promising and exciting, right?

But four days into the year, I started to receive all kinds of things I didn't want to have anything to do with. Diagnoses with words I'd never heard of before, new daily medications I couldn't pronounce, medical bills that didn't fit into my budget, doctor appointments that didn't coincide well with my schedule, a racing heart, students joining me online for class from anywhere and everywhere (from a shared bedroom with someone snoring beside them, from a noisy kitchen, from a house filled with animals, from a room filled with all sorts of toys to show and play with, even from another country with a beach that seemed much more enticing than my class), and basically just a whole LOT of stress. Suddenly my whole life seemed out of my control. 

Meanwhile several close friends and family received scary and sad diagnoses, as well. A friend started the year a brand new widow, unable to fully grieve her loss while trying to be strong for her son. Others watched their cancer return after just having celebrated finding out they were cancer free. Many marriages and families around me didn't make it, disrupting so many parts of life for their children and extended families. I am a natural empath, so I'm quickly drawn in to other's pain (it's a blessing and a curse).  I grieved for them and with them. 

I spent a lot of time alone on my bike over the summer trying to get myself healthy again, physically, mentally, and spiritually. I found a lot of quiet spots to just sit and talk to God, preparing for the year ahead. Then school started, I felt ready, and...... I fell. Tripped over my own foot and bruised my rib, just in time to start a new school year. So much for all the de-stressing over the summer. I couldn't lay down to sleep or even bend over to help my students with anything for at least two weeks. Nor could I exercise at all, after riding my bike for 10 miles almost every day for six weeks. Never did finish organizing my classroom like I wanted, and I definitely feel it. Definitely made for a stressful-and painful beginning of the year.

Life felt exceptionally heavy. These weren't the blessings I expected to receive. But I knew God gave me the word RECEIVE for the year, so I tried to see and accept things through that lens. 

I didn't receive quick healing and recovery from COVID, but I did gain a very caring cardiologist that supported me and took time to connect with me as a post-COVID patient. With early heart disease in my family, maybe getting connected with a cardiologist and a sleep apnea doctor will help me avoid other heart issues in the future. 

I didn't receive low-cost treatment to find out why my heart was racing, but I did receive my 2020 tax refund check a full year late after several issues, precisely on the day I went in for all the testing on my heart. Peace that I had the money to cover it, even if I did have other plans for that money. I didn't have the money for the doctor bills just a day before I went in, but God did.

I didn't receive an easier year financially, but we did receive two unexpected bonuses precisely in the last month of each of David's semesters at DBU when I didn't know how I was going to pay the last payment. And when certain expenses went up unexpectedly, Mike got a job promotion.  We didn't have the money to cover the last month's tuition bill for both semesters, but God did. 

I didn't receive good news about the health of extended family members, but I did receive unexpected TIME with all of my family members in both Indiana and Pennsylvania. We were able to snap some quick family pictures that hadn't been taken in many years. Pictures that we now are eternally grateful for, especially on the Alspaugh side. I didn't see any way possible to see so much family in one year, but God did. We didn't know how much we needed to take that trip in October to Indiana, but God did.

I didn't receive the support I desperately needed as a teacher last year or the commitment from students that was necessary for them to succeed. But I did learn a lot, develop perseverance, and finally learned how to let certain expectations go in order to put my health, my family, and my sanity first. I didn't have the mental and physical strength to give my class my best teaching, but God did. Those kids may not have excelled academically like I would have liked, but they found a place of safety and belonging in my classroom--which mattered more than anything during a pandemic.

I received a group of prayer warrior friends through a Bible study on my front porch that I have been able to go to for prayer on countless occasions, as well as give them the support that they need, too. I am normally a very private, reserved person who doesn't naturally reach out for help. But God knew I needed prayers from my friends as much as they needed my prayers for them. We check-in periodically and check up on each other often. 

I received a new group of couple friends at church that meet together weekly for the sole purpose of talking about how to strengthen and fight for our marriages. I didn't know how incredibly helpful and inspiring a group like that could be, but God did. A group where you don't have to hide your struggles or pretend that marriage is a walk in the park.

I received a new life group at church on Saturday nights that connected us to people who are absolutely committed to following Christ above all else in life, giving us the opportunity to open our hearts, share our stories, and connect with others. I didn't know I needed those new relationships, but God did.

I received new writing opportunities and a warm welcome back to my beloved writer's group. I didn't  remember how much that writer's group did for my soul, but God did. He showed me a way I could still be part of it and not miss out on our marriage group that meets on the same night. 

2021 didn't bring the blessings I envisioned or hoped for. It brought a lot of hardship, hurt, and grief. But with all of the hardship, hurt, and grief, it taught me that God is right there, giving me everything I need exactly when I need it. The right amount of money, a caring doctor, a supportive and praying friend, or just time with someone that I haven't seen in a long time. When God gave me the word RECEIVE, it really did help me accept the challenges that came by looking at them through that filter. 

So now here I am at the start of 2022, sadly watching from a distance as my husband helps plan for a funeral that we never expected to be planning so quickly after our last trip just as recent as October. Mike and David have already been gone for a week to be there for my mother-in-law, (who just had a mastectomy this week), the funeral is Monday, and they'll still be there for another two weeks to work on the house and help out with another surgery. My oldest son and I were supposed to fly up this weekend for the funeral until sickness derailed that plan, too. 

It's not the restful, peaceful way I would have liked to spend my winter break, preparing for a full semester ahead, still dealing with half a class of kids who came to me far below grade level.  Every day brought new surprises we weren't expecting. It's not the family time at home I hoped to spend with my husband and son over a long three week break. But it wasn't the way my mother-in-law expected or hoped to spend Christmas, either. And this is a chance to love, support, and honor her as she steps into this new season of life without the man she's been married to for the last 48 years. If I thought my year felt hard, it doesn't even begin to compare to her hard over the last twelve months, or even the last ten days.  I am very sad that I can't be there, though. 

I don't normally do well with last minute changes and decisions. I am ending one year and starting the next year feeling quite a bit unsettled, anxious, not knowing what's around the corner. But I feel like God has shown me over the last year that no matter what is coming, He's already ahead of me, setting things up far in advance to provide exactly what I will need. He is Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. A God of infinite resources.

He is also Jehovah Shalom, my Perfect Peace. Just knowing He's there gives me peace. I don't have to fear tomorrow. His mercies are new every morning. Whatever tomorrow brings, the morning will bring me the mercy and grace I will need. I don't have the resources or the strength to handle tomorrow's challenges, but God does. 

So my word to filter and guide me through 2022 is PEACE. It doesn't mean peace from hardship, or a peace that all will feel more settled soon. For some reason, I think this unsettled feeling will be here for awhile as we grieve the loss of Mike's dad. I know my husband is going to be hurting and processing a variety of emotions, including a very deep sadness for some time to come. He's going to need time and space, and I'm sure he will spend a lot of time out in the garage, tinkering in different projects, as a way to physically express and process his grief. Which is why I fully support his need to be there now to do so much work around his mom's house. I wouldn't want him anywhere else. 

But there is a PEACE that comes with just knowing God is ahead of us every step of the way, waiting with new mercy each morning, with strength, comfort, and resources that we can't fabricate on our own.

 

New Year's Eve 2021 Style

 Well, just like the rest of this year, my plans and my reality didn't quite match up. 

As soon as Mike and David decided to go up to Indiana to help his mom out with her mastectomy this week due to her husband being in a nursing home/memory care facility, I asked Juan to not make any overnight plans with friends for the three weeks they'd be gone. He and I would find something fun to do together for New Year's Eve, especially. I had considered flying up to Indiana at least for a week, but then decided against it because I'd be flying there and back alone. Juan's new job does not give him vacation time yet. My mother-in-law has another surgery on the 11th, so Mike and David won't come home until after that. So I agreed to teach Inter-session at school starting on January 3rd and make some extra money doing that instead. 

Then out of the blue we found out that my father-in-law was on 100% oxygen and was not expected to make it through the night. He thankfully did make it through that night to give his wife time to get permission (COVID restrictions) to see him before he passed away the next night. 

Well, Mike and David already had tickets to fly up three days later, so Juan and I got tickets to fly up a week later (tomorrow) for the funeral. Which meant I had to tell my principal I would need a sub for the first two days of inter-session before I would make it back. I felt bad because I had agreed to teach 5th grade bilingual, which isn't easy to find coverage for, especially when everybody is on vacation. They are kids I already taught both in Pre-K and in 2nd grade, so I was really looking forward to it. Then I spent the beginning of this week preparing for a last minute trip up North into the frigid cold. I also had to take a day to go in to the school to leave plans and make copies for a sub to cover those two days of inter-session. Juan gave me a gift card to Chili's for Christmas, so I was going to use it to treat us to a nice dinner together this evening before heading to bed early so we could leave for the airport at 3:30 am. 

Juan told me on Monday night that he had a strange cough, so I sat at the opposite end of the table from him at dinner just in case it might be something contagious. He came home Tuesday night and texted me, saying, "Mom, I think we might have a problem." He was running a fever, had a headache, body aches, and felt really weak.

He got tested the next morning, and they said he'd get results sent in 24-36 hours. We hoped for the 24. He quarantined in his room since he came home from work on Tuesday, and I just deliver his meals and meds to his door and text him to tell him they're there. He sadly did test positive, so we had to cancel our flights and will not be able to attend the funeral. Nor will we even get to celebrate New Year's together this evening. I'm out in the living room, and he's in his bedroom. 

So guess what? I ordered Chili's to go and delivered it to his door, along with a New Year's hat. And I just made a cheesecake to have something to celebrate with at 12:00. No twelve grapes (a Colombian tradition), no card games, and no special drink. Me in the living room. Him in his bedroom. And Mike and David in Indiana an hour ahead of us. 

I couldn't have made this year up if I even tried. From start to finish. Oh, my. 2021--you have definitely been a memorable year.

Thankfully, Juan is feeling much better today than earlier in the week. He's staying plenty hydrated and checking his oxygen faithfully every few hours. Holding steady. 
Since I'm spending New Year's Eve alone with peaceful music in the background, I can't think of a better time to enjoy my new book that I ordered myself with my Christmas money. :) 

                                                                    See you next year!

21 Blessings from 2021

Well, I tried to put these in the opposite order, but this is the order the pics keep showing up. So here are my twenty-one blessings from 2021, in no particular order of importance.


Getting to see both of my brothers at the same time. First family pic in a long, long, long time.

2. Celebrating both of my parents' 75th birthdays. 


3. My beautiful handcrafted fake fireplace/cat cage/coffee table  that Mike made for me (aka--piece of furniture that brings me peace)--I had it outside and just recently brought it inside. I let the fireplace run all day, and it brings me such peace to just sit and watch it "burn".

4. Two Colombian friends that surprised me with a bag of treats straight from Colombia, within about a week of each other!
From a coworker who had family visiting from Colombia.
From a friend visiting from Colombia in another state
5. Family dinners for birthdays. With four very busy adults, it sure was hard to find time for us all to have coordinating schedules this last year. 

6. Boots and Spazzie. Gotta love them. 


7. Priceless pictures of Mike's family. A trip that almost didn't happen. No one had any idea how little time remained.  So incredibly thankful we made it in time.




8. Time with the Alspaugh cousins.

9. Watching my mother-in-law just radiate as she walked through breast cancer, chemo, and also cared for and honored her husband at the same time as his dementia progressed so rapidly. 


She taught me the value of being comfortable in your own skin. Even with all the pretty hats and head coverings, she was just fine without them or her hair. 



10. Summer morning bike rides. They helped me get healthy after a very difficult semester post-COVID. Literally just what the doctor ordered. 

11. Church with both my boys. Doesn't happen much anymore with all of our different schedules, but I cherish it when it does. I love that they both love going to church. 

12. A church that focuses SO much on fighting for a godly marriage. This picture was from a church-wide marriage night. 

13. An in-depth study of Psalm 23 that really deepened my relationship and trust in God. It stuck with me all year and is my go-to passage for prayer now. 

14. The opportunity for both my boys to study at DBU. 

David lives in a section of a house on campus that he shares with six other guys. He absolutely loves the community in his house. 


15. Sweet notes from previous students that survived and actually thrived during the 2020/21 school year nightmare.

16. My walking shoes. They've walked a lot of miles with me this year. Whenever weather or daylight permit, I walk a mile before work every morning and sometimes another mile when I get home. Perfect way to collect my thoughts and talk to God--and keep my blood pressure down and gain the energy I need for the day. I can tell a big difference on the days I don't walk or ride my bike.





17. Front Porch Bible Study. Those five ladies (three not pictured) have become my strongest prayer warriors, as we all continue to rally around each other in prayer in each of our times of need. 

18. LOTS of fun crafts to do with my mom. Our personalities can be quite different at times, so having something to do and create has given us a happy medium to connect in an authentic and memorable way.  


19. Summer dates. It was a short, packed summer, but we found time to enjoy a few extra daytime dates. 


20. Hanging out with my boys.




21. Great friends who send you just what you need when you need it. Little did she know how bummed I was driving home in the pouring down rain on my birthday, knowing I'd be eating dinner all alone because everyone was working. 



I have been lost in thought quite a bit in the last 9 days of this year, still in shock that my husband and son are in Indiana preparing for my father-in-law's funeral on Monday. 2021 started unexpectedly hard and ended just as unexpectedly hard. But seeing someone's life come to an end so quickly really makes you think about our purpose in this world and how we spend the days given to us. Hard or not, every day is a day to be thankful to be alive. Every day holds blessing if we're willing to look for it. Every day holds purpose.

 

The years I became a Mom

I've been thinking a lot about my boys' particular ages right now. It's definitely an awkward stage of parenting, fully realizing that they are both adults now, wanting to make their own decisions. I did a little too much for Juan as he entered his twenties, which kinda backfired on me because he didn't then take responsibility for the choices I helped him make. This last year he's really taken the initiative to make his own decisions, many of which I never would have guided him to do, but I've noticed a much, much happier and fulfilled young man.

David has always been pretty independent, so he keeps me and my advice at an arm's length most of the time. I'll admit, though he's made his fair share of mistakes, he's learning from them, and he's a much more well-rounded person than I was at his age.  So I back off and just have to trust that he's figuring out his own way and style. Sometimes he opens up and talks about life, but sometimes he just doesn't. I miss the deep conversations we used to have when he lived at home, but I also respect his need to learn on his own because I'm exactly the same. 

David is 20 years old now. When I was his age, I embarked on the most life-changing adventure of my life to study abroad in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Though I didn't even know it (and wouldn't know it for another ten years), my motherhood journey began during that adventure. Juan was born in Colombia a month before I came back home. God used that whole experience to prepare me to meet him ten years later and then become his second mom five years after that. 

Juan is 24 years old now. When I was his age, I carried and gave birth to David. Truly the most life-changing moment of my life. I can't look at either of them as children in any way. They both are going through so much life change right now figuring out who they are,  and they obviously need my encouragement and respect more than my guidance.  

Both my children were born at the current age of their brother, and that's just mind-boggling to realize the young men they have become. No wonder I feel a bit lost these days. We've entered the pre-empty nest season and really don't have much longer for both of them to still call our home their home.