Memories #3
It's been a month since I felt like writing. I suppose some of it is just trying to tread water, to keep on keeping on and to practice what I preach. It has been a busy summer so far. I am thankful for that. The kids and I have gotten to travel and see new things. Seeing new things was what Ricky loved to do. He would often just drive to see where he could go, super-adventurous style. I recently tried that and it landed us at the entrance of the Georgia port authority in Savannah. I really just wanted to swing by this awesome state park on our way to Florida, but the detour and GPS didn't work together and had other plans for me and my clan. So Ricky-style we admired more truck containers than I have ever seen in my life. Stacks upon stacks of them. While it's nice to say I've been there, I wouldn't recommend checking it out.
I asked the kids what they remember about taking trips with dad, here is what they said:
- He would always put the destination into our GPS and try to beat it by an hour.
- He would go on back roads and beep at everyone, frantically waving just so they would wave back. (Gray made the observation that in the South that is no big deal they love to be friendly, in the North people give you a blank stare or worse)
-He would take us to the hotel pool and order pizza and we would eat it by the pool.
-At the roundabout by our house he would drive round and round like 10 times as fast as he could to celebrate that we made it home safely. (Tony still giggles uncontrollably thinking about this one)
-He would buy like 3 pounds of salt water taffy, he would say it was for family back home but then eat all of it on the way home.
One of my favorite trip memories of Ricky was from 12 years ago. We had just started throwing around the idea of being more than friends. We took a road-trip to Toronto to see some friends. He and I decided to just go somewhere, anywhere, we found an island off the coast of Toronto. The ferry was just getting ready to leave, we hopped on just for the heck of it. We had no idea what was on the island. It was the most peaceful quaint little place, it had a bed and breakfast, a sweet little artsy dinner place and some shops, but most of what I remember was the beach and just sitting with him in peace, having the best afternoon ever. We finished the day at the one place on the island that you could eat dinner, we watched the sunset and rode the ferry back to Toronto. It was one of those days that you know is just magical and you should just soak it in. It's safe to say after that day we both decided being more than friends might be an outstanding idea ;) To this day I'm not sure what the island is called. We often talked about trying to go back and recreate that fun day. For now I will hold onto that memory with such sweetness.
Another not so sweet but hilarious trip memory from several years later, the kids were 4,5, and 6. We were in a hotel in Tennessee. Kids of any age can make a giant mess in a hotel . Even with limited things to destroy in a room they know just how to make the most of it. We spent a few nights there, it was a bit of a fiasco to pack up. We were getting ready to check out and anxious to get on the road. After spending what felt like the better part of an hour sifting through the mess to make sure we hadn't left anything behind Ricky declared us ready to go. He bent down to hoist a giant bag over his shoulder. He didn't realize how close he was to the very pointy edge of the armoire. As he popped up his head collided with the oh-so-pointy tip. He screamed the F-bomb so loud. The kids and I just stood there with our mouths open in horror, it did look pretty painful. Ricky didn't swear often, he wanted to be a good example and didn't think it was all that biblical. But he could do it fluently. I hated swearing but had no problem saying things like son of a biscuit, what the heck, darn, tarnation, fudge-nuggets..you get the picture. SO there we all stood feeling awful for poor miserable dad. Tony walked over to him and in the sweetest most empathetic voice said "oh fuck nuggets oh oh fuck nuggets my poor poor dad." We took a moment to digest what we just heard, Ricky was mortified and still wincing from pain. He sort of chuckled and said something about how we don't say things like that. I'm pretty sure he had a mean migraine the rest of the day. Unfortunately collectively we had taught our 5 year old his first swear word. We were not proud of it, but laughed about it every time we went to hotels with "pointy edges" after that.
I wasn't sure how our first rode-trip without Ricky would go, he did so much for our family. It really went well. I drove, literally drove all the way to Florida, easy-peasy, like I could do it everyday, maybe I should rethink my career and take up truck-driving. But for real, the kids were great and we had a good time adventuring together. We missed him a lot. We missed him every time we saw salt water taffy (it felt wrong to bring it home, like we should have inhaled it on the car ride home). We thought of him when we snorkeled with sting rays and giant fish, he was always up for an adventure. We thought of him at the gas stations that sold old Larry the Cable guy cd's, he would buy them on every trip and almost pee his pants laughing at them. We thought of him when it was 101 degrees because we all knew he would have NOT been ok with that heat. We thought of him when we rode rollercoasters and he wasn't there to yell and coerce the boys into going "just one more time". Grayson said "I just don't feel safe going on a coaster without dad". That was hard to hear, sometimes I try to convince myself that I can be Ricky for the kids, that I can pick up the pieces and do what Ricky did. But the simple truth is that I cannot. God is their ultimate Father, I can remind them of that and help them to see Him that way. But in reality no matter what I do there will always be a hole that I can't replace. We find ourselves in Jesus hands which is beautiful but we will always just miss our favorite person our Superman.
Several weeks ago our worship pastor made a statement after a difficult message as we were transitioning into a time of worship. The message was full of a hard truth but full of God's grace in the midst of it. He said "You know, we all walked in here with our own stories." It's simplistic, I know, but it's true. So often we (I) get caught up with whats going on in our on life and view other people through that lens. But we all have stories, very different from each other. Tonight in my grief support group that statement rang oh so true. When people began to tell their stories they were full of devastating, tragic loss. I'm sure many people they interact with have no idea the pain they carry with them everyday. Some of them don't know Jesus. I can't imagine.
How magical or wonderful would it be if we could simply make the world a better place in our common day-to-day interactions? Could we use patience with those we feel aren't doing "what is right" or what we think they should do? Maybe they really are doing the best that they can do. Their best might look different than our own. So often I can begin to think, wow I have it pretty bad I mean how many of these people lost a spouse and have 4 monkeys left to raise? Pretty sure I'm the youngest in this grief group with the most chaos in my life. And then we start talking and I realize the error of my ways. It's humbling. We all have our own stories, our own journey that we walk. Wouldn't it be superb if we could do it well without judgement, to live honestly in a vulnerable way? How many people would be touched if we chose to look someone in the eye and were honest and kind? I'm not the most tactful person, especially right now, being kind AND honest is not my forte'. I want to be, I'm asking Jesus to help me do this for others. Recently in one of my quiet times I went to go pray (whine) about the current situation and a difficulty in my life. Jesus came back in a hard-core way with the simple reminder that he loves me and asks that I extend that same love and forgiveness to others. Not just once, but always. Good stuff.
Here are a few pictures from vacation:
I asked the kids what they remember about taking trips with dad, here is what they said:
- He would always put the destination into our GPS and try to beat it by an hour.
- He would go on back roads and beep at everyone, frantically waving just so they would wave back. (Gray made the observation that in the South that is no big deal they love to be friendly, in the North people give you a blank stare or worse)
-He would take us to the hotel pool and order pizza and we would eat it by the pool.
-At the roundabout by our house he would drive round and round like 10 times as fast as he could to celebrate that we made it home safely. (Tony still giggles uncontrollably thinking about this one)
-He would buy like 3 pounds of salt water taffy, he would say it was for family back home but then eat all of it on the way home.
One of my favorite trip memories of Ricky was from 12 years ago. We had just started throwing around the idea of being more than friends. We took a road-trip to Toronto to see some friends. He and I decided to just go somewhere, anywhere, we found an island off the coast of Toronto. The ferry was just getting ready to leave, we hopped on just for the heck of it. We had no idea what was on the island. It was the most peaceful quaint little place, it had a bed and breakfast, a sweet little artsy dinner place and some shops, but most of what I remember was the beach and just sitting with him in peace, having the best afternoon ever. We finished the day at the one place on the island that you could eat dinner, we watched the sunset and rode the ferry back to Toronto. It was one of those days that you know is just magical and you should just soak it in. It's safe to say after that day we both decided being more than friends might be an outstanding idea ;) To this day I'm not sure what the island is called. We often talked about trying to go back and recreate that fun day. For now I will hold onto that memory with such sweetness.
Another not so sweet but hilarious trip memory from several years later, the kids were 4,5, and 6. We were in a hotel in Tennessee. Kids of any age can make a giant mess in a hotel . Even with limited things to destroy in a room they know just how to make the most of it. We spent a few nights there, it was a bit of a fiasco to pack up. We were getting ready to check out and anxious to get on the road. After spending what felt like the better part of an hour sifting through the mess to make sure we hadn't left anything behind Ricky declared us ready to go. He bent down to hoist a giant bag over his shoulder. He didn't realize how close he was to the very pointy edge of the armoire. As he popped up his head collided with the oh-so-pointy tip. He screamed the F-bomb so loud. The kids and I just stood there with our mouths open in horror, it did look pretty painful. Ricky didn't swear often, he wanted to be a good example and didn't think it was all that biblical. But he could do it fluently. I hated swearing but had no problem saying things like son of a biscuit, what the heck, darn, tarnation, fudge-nuggets..you get the picture. SO there we all stood feeling awful for poor miserable dad. Tony walked over to him and in the sweetest most empathetic voice said "oh fuck nuggets oh oh fuck nuggets my poor poor dad." We took a moment to digest what we just heard, Ricky was mortified and still wincing from pain. He sort of chuckled and said something about how we don't say things like that. I'm pretty sure he had a mean migraine the rest of the day. Unfortunately collectively we had taught our 5 year old his first swear word. We were not proud of it, but laughed about it every time we went to hotels with "pointy edges" after that.
I wasn't sure how our first rode-trip without Ricky would go, he did so much for our family. It really went well. I drove, literally drove all the way to Florida, easy-peasy, like I could do it everyday, maybe I should rethink my career and take up truck-driving. But for real, the kids were great and we had a good time adventuring together. We missed him a lot. We missed him every time we saw salt water taffy (it felt wrong to bring it home, like we should have inhaled it on the car ride home). We thought of him when we snorkeled with sting rays and giant fish, he was always up for an adventure. We thought of him at the gas stations that sold old Larry the Cable guy cd's, he would buy them on every trip and almost pee his pants laughing at them. We thought of him when it was 101 degrees because we all knew he would have NOT been ok with that heat. We thought of him when we rode rollercoasters and he wasn't there to yell and coerce the boys into going "just one more time". Grayson said "I just don't feel safe going on a coaster without dad". That was hard to hear, sometimes I try to convince myself that I can be Ricky for the kids, that I can pick up the pieces and do what Ricky did. But the simple truth is that I cannot. God is their ultimate Father, I can remind them of that and help them to see Him that way. But in reality no matter what I do there will always be a hole that I can't replace. We find ourselves in Jesus hands which is beautiful but we will always just miss our favorite person our Superman.
Several weeks ago our worship pastor made a statement after a difficult message as we were transitioning into a time of worship. The message was full of a hard truth but full of God's grace in the midst of it. He said "You know, we all walked in here with our own stories." It's simplistic, I know, but it's true. So often we (I) get caught up with whats going on in our on life and view other people through that lens. But we all have stories, very different from each other. Tonight in my grief support group that statement rang oh so true. When people began to tell their stories they were full of devastating, tragic loss. I'm sure many people they interact with have no idea the pain they carry with them everyday. Some of them don't know Jesus. I can't imagine.
How magical or wonderful would it be if we could simply make the world a better place in our common day-to-day interactions? Could we use patience with those we feel aren't doing "what is right" or what we think they should do? Maybe they really are doing the best that they can do. Their best might look different than our own. So often I can begin to think, wow I have it pretty bad I mean how many of these people lost a spouse and have 4 monkeys left to raise? Pretty sure I'm the youngest in this grief group with the most chaos in my life. And then we start talking and I realize the error of my ways. It's humbling. We all have our own stories, our own journey that we walk. Wouldn't it be superb if we could do it well without judgement, to live honestly in a vulnerable way? How many people would be touched if we chose to look someone in the eye and were honest and kind? I'm not the most tactful person, especially right now, being kind AND honest is not my forte'. I want to be, I'm asking Jesus to help me do this for others. Recently in one of my quiet times I went to go pray (whine) about the current situation and a difficulty in my life. Jesus came back in a hard-core way with the simple reminder that he loves me and asks that I extend that same love and forgiveness to others. Not just once, but always. Good stuff.
Here are a few pictures from vacation:
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| How perfect is she?! She is seriously such a bright spot. She was looking at her big brother and laughing at him here. She could ride carousels or "cow-asis" all day long. |
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| This is my incredible Mummsie. She came with us and helped tremendously. She is so patient with my kiddos. This trip would have been a bust without her. I'm so thankful she came with us. |
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| Westin is the biggest animal lover. He thoroughly enjoyed each encounter with all the birds that landed on us. He tried to hold the peacock. The peacock was not on board with that plan but enjoyed keeping this distance. West was elated. |
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| Here we are - our on the beach, sun-burnt selves. It was hot, humid and terrific. Watching fireworks on the beach was spectacular. This is our first family photo since well, you know. I thought it would be hard to look at. It was, but we are ok. Jesus has given us so much and we are so blessed by many of you. Life is hard but it is ok. I thank God everyday for the hope of heaven, I could literally preach a sermon on this hope. I'll just stop and say we are grateful. |
