Trail Running as a corny symbol.

I know things have been a quiet here.

Things have been a little crazy at our house this week.  We had a lot going on last weekend, holiday parties and such, and on Monday morning, we found out that Austin’s grandmother isn’t doing well.  It’s worst for Austin’s mother, and we’re making plans to do some travel between Charlotte, Florence, and here over the next few weeks.

On Sunday, I was in a really weird mood, and after laying on the couch for a while, I decided to take myself for a really really short trail run so I could reset my horrible mood.

11227755_10100681075087043_8309451315502675141_nAs I was running, and picking my feet up over roots and leaping over a teeny stream that ran through the trail, I glanced down at my watch and noted that the first mile had taken me over 11 minutes.

“Why are trail miles so slow,” I thought to myself.

There’s the obvious answer.  Trail miles are more technical.  You’re not running on a treadmill or down a greenway.  There’s deer, tree roots, rocks, and branches.  Falling during a trail run is not at all uncommon.

And then I looked up at the leaves falling from the trees.

Maybe trail running is so slow because you’re supposed to notice the thing around you.

Maybe trail running is this huge symbol for life.

It’s hard.  It’s hard on your body.  It can be hard on your mind.  There is stuff in your way.  Rocks, roots.  A straight-up body of water.  I’ve tripped and fallen down.  Hard.  But maybe that crap is all there to slow you down so that you can remember to look up and around and appreciate the things that don’t suck about the run.

Or maybe I’m a dumb dumb and just feeling really corny since Christmas is this week.

What is your favorite gift you’ll be giving this week?

Simple question.

Today’s post will be short and sweet.

Once again, a friend of mine is experiencing a horrible, horrible loss.  He is a good person.  I don’t understand it.  And I have to wonder…

Why do bad things happen to such good people?

Why?  Why should my friend have his entire universe shift in the matter of one phone call?

That said, if you’re celebrating this week with friends or family, remember that stupid petty stuff is just that, stupid and petty.  There is nothing on earth worth bs, especially when there’s no guarantee that any of us will wake up tomorrow.

What are you thankful for this week? 


Living life to the fullest.

Sometimes, I complain about really stupid things.  Sometimes I am a grump.  Sometimes I take for granted the fact that I have a roof over my head, a warm bed, and more than enough food and resources to make things work.

And then the universe will yank you right back to reality to remind you that all the stupid, petty, ridiculous crap you’ve wasted energy on just isn’t worth it.

There is a tiny adorable elderly woman who has taken my Zumba® classes for over two years.  Two-and-a-half years ago, when she was taking my class, I thought she might be too frail, and am ashamed to say, that sometimes I doubted that she could do it.  But she always powered through, and at the same time, would let me know what she thought about everything.  When I got this position, she could not be happier, and she let me know.  A few weeks ago, when I was subbing a Toning class, she literally squealed when I walked down the hallway to see her.  I would hug her.  And over the last few months and weeks, she’s gotten smaller and smaller, colder and colder, and we realized that something was the matter.

A few months ago, after a bout with bronchitis, my teeny friend went to the doctor and found that she did not have bronchitis, but lung cancer, and that she would be leaving us within months.  Yesterday, when she woke up, she could not breathe well, and we in the community, have been keeping each other on a text thread, hoping that she pulls through, but realizing, that at 86, this may be the end of the road for her.

Simultaneously, one of my best friends suffered a tremendous loss this week.

I hate it, that anyone ever has to suffer, or that me, being a selfish human being, sometimes waits for these moments to remember how grateful I should be for the blessings I have.  But the sadness for my dear friends has reminded me that we, that I, have so much to be grateful for.

This Friday, here’s to being grateful for how beautiful and fragile life can be. 

What are you grateful for today? 

Maya Angelou

I didn’t feel like it was appropriate to post anything but to express my sadness at the news this morning, that 86-year-old Maya Angelou was found unresponsive in her Winston-Salem home.

In a sense, it’s sad, the world has suffered such a huge loss.  However, in another sense, you look at what she’s accomplished over her 86 years, and it’s almost selfish to keep her all for ourselves right?  So, in the words of Franchesca, Rest in Power, Maya Angelou.

Also, Buzzfeed did an awesome job covering this. Check it out here.

My memorial service.

Okay, before we get into this post, can I just tell you how many times I have wanted to punch the router at my parents’ house?  I think I said this yesterday, but it must be federal law that if you are an old person, that that wireless at your house must suck, because trying to blog here?  I have been tempted to tear each and every one of my locs out.

Moving right along.

So the reason I’m here at my parents’ house in the first place is actually kind of somber.  A friend of mine, of ours, mother passed away after a long, long battle with cancer.  Her two daughters are me and Debbie’s age, so the whole family made it out to a beautiful, beautiful service.  Seriously, this church was packed.

As soon as we walked in, displayed was a beautiful picture of Wendy and her two daughters.  As we entered, we entered to beautiful singing, and were handed the most fun program I’ve ever seen.

And the service was great.  Full of friends, the service was more singing than talking (as was Wendy’s wish,) and the talking that was done was reflecting on Wendy’s life, her smile, and most of all, her love for Christ.

The service had me thinking, what would my memorial service be like?  What do I want to be remembered for?

I haven’t gotten as far as thinking of how I want my service to be done, or where, but I do know what I want to be remembered for.

photo (23)When it comes to this, I want to be remembered for:

  • My ability to love.  I’ve always loved love.  I love so much.  I love my family.  My family-to-be.  My home. My animals.  Writing.
  • My love for animals.  I am the proud Mama of two animals, and the stepmama to a third.  That is really more than enough but I love love love them all so much.
  • My love for music.  I was named after a Stevie Wonder song.  There’s no way I wouldn’t love music.  I love it all, I sing it all, and I dance to it all.
  • My love of laughter.  Ladies and gents, I love to laugh.  I love to laugh at myself, and more importantly, I love to make fun of others.  All in good fun, of course, I’m not gonna like, make fun of someone’s cockeye or something, but I love a laugh.
  • The right thing.  I think above all, I want everyone to know that I always tried/will continue to try to do the right thing.  I may not always.  I’m human, and I’m gonna screw up, but I really, truly have always tried to do what I thought was the right thing.

Now I hope all this wasn’t too morbid for you, but you have to understand, my mind has been on this, especially with the passing of my grandmother, and now Wendy.  If you’re comfortable with it, how would you like to be remembered?



That was a hard weekend.

Thus far, 2013 has been one of the best, most beautiful, most accomplished years in my entire life.  And I think with the absolute best years in your life, comes some not-so-fun things as well, just to remind you that although life is absolutely beautiful, that we’re all still human. It can’t all be fun and games.

Mid-week last week, we lost my grandmother.  And thus, started the whirlwind.  I quickly got a flight.  Put my clothing for the services on, as the flight cut super close.  And attended final services for my grandmother.

In absolute short, it sucked.  My family is a fun-loving bunch, and it was so hard, so hard to see everyone in such unusually dark clothing, and to see folks, who’re usually laughing, joking, and dancing, with such somber faces.  But I was impressed on how we were able to so quickly come together to send my grandmother off, and let her know we loved her and that she’d be missed here.

I’ll take today off my usual, and we’ll resume tomorrow.