In passing.

So I said goodby to a dear friend.  It was heartbreaking.

When I sat in her for the first time at the dealership, she promised me that if I took her home she would always protect the people inside, never brake down in unsafe places and live forever.  Well, she was true to the first two and probably intended to capture immortality as well. Then the years (and the children, the dog and the junk in the trunk) began to wear her down and we started replacing vital parts.  I asked her, begged her to hang in there for five more years.  It took her about 10 years to realize there really was no 5 year finish line.  As she grew progressively more tired and worn out I could hear her heavy sighs of resignation as I would repair her and put her back on the road.  Lately, as I begged her to go 5 more years, she was silent.  Supportive, but silent.

Shes been purging her oil in huge quantities.  Too many leaks in every direction for one who has no motor-medical skills and can no longer afford to hire those who do.  I thought she was really finished this time.... not because she really had reached her mortal end, but because I had failed her. I could no longer fund her repairs. What is a car (with a soul) to do when the metal is junked? Is that stupid to worry about such things?

Thankfully, my motor-medical mechanic had fallen in love with her over the years.  He could see her potential under his attentive (and free of charge) automotive expertise. So while I miss her terribly (no offense to the little purple Hyundai which has committed to putt for all she's worth) I'm grateful that she is getting the care she needs and deserves. And I hope to see her again...in passing.

278.5 credits, 52 semesters and 7 pages of transcripts

I have said goodbye to BYU so many times before... 

*As a sophmore when I married my children's father.
*As a junior when I realized that making my children wait for lunch until I finished my choreography was messed up.
*As a graduate with a BA in Dance.
*As a graduate with a MA in Dance.
*As a post grad with a Athletic Training Cert.
*And now, 32 credits of prerequisite classes behind me and accepted into a PA program.

Ive been pre-physical therapy, dance, sign language interpreter, dance, dance rehab and conditioning, athletic training and post bacc-non traditional chemistry/bioscience.  What a trip.

The gratitude to parents, spouses, children, family, friends, organizations and institutions that have empowered this journey is overwhelming to feel, much less describe.  I treasure this support and hold it sacred in my heart.

After 34 years, I've ended my BYU legacy. Two days ago,
I walked out of the testing center for the very last time. I'm really leaving this time.  I mean it.

Origin

Whoever I am at any given moment.  Whatever choice I make at any cross road.  Whatever I say, and how loud I say it.  Whatever I laugh at and why its funny.  Whatever insight becomes suddenly clear.  Whatever dream I pursue. Whatever familial code I enforce, or endlessly strive for. However long the conversation takes. Whatever sense of adventure comes with a rocket ride. Whatever work ethic must be endured. Whatever popcorn or paperbag doughnuts are being consumed. Whatever. However. Whomever. Wherever. It came from these people. My people.  My anchors. My family of origin.

Hope Floats

Even while being swallowed up 

by my deeper moments of disappointment, 

I have realized that 

I am hopelessly addicted to hope. 

Hospital 101: Day 1

When faced with large hospital beds, carrying sedated patients being pushed by hospital staff who are single-minded and forward driven, I will never win. Always yield. I am a insect to them and they won't even notice the bump as they go over me.  From now on, when approaching hallway intersections, I will consider checking the multiview mirrors so as to yield before me and my little EKG machine become a casualty.

If I reach a hallway with an apparent dead end, I need to remember that if I look around and find a little grey box, my ID badge is magic and can open doors that look like walls.

Scrubs really are the best!  They're comfy and actually considered "professional".  But beware of the drawstring in the pants.  If you don't tie them right, it becomes impossible to untie them, especially when the bathroom break is long overdue and the pager is going off. Again.  Damp spots on scrubs are considered less professional and are less comfy.

There are an infinite number of hallways in a hospital (known only to staff) that all look identical, yet spit you out into totally different departments. Some areas of the hospital don't have a third floor, never mind that the second floors don't meet in one section, and so require different elevators (or with extremely good compass you can find the really awkward staircase)  Its really going to suck if I get an emergency page and get swallowed up in the maze and don't get there in time.

When people are in crisis, time within a hospital becomes warped.  It has it's own sense of pacing, very  independent and separate from the flow of the rest of humanity.  It is a world unto itself. Thus, being suspended in this time warp for 12 hours at a time, leaves one a little disoriented when trying to reunite with the rhythms of those on the outside.

Patients eat food.  Visiting family members eat food.  Support personnel like department secretaries and such eat food.  But the rest of us seem destined to be self sustaining since one little 30 minute break isn't much time to consume enough food to last for the other twelve hours as I turbo-jet from one department to another.

Every person. Every one. No matter how they see themselves in their pretend life, become very vulnerable and scared when faced with their own physical failing.  And so do their families.  We were designed that way.  To treasure our physical gift, to want to cling to relationships we fear to be separated from.  There is no them and us when it comes down to the final chapter. Everyone is an us. We always were. Age, race, social class and politic fade away as each contemplate the possibility that the turn may be over and we will be returning home. All of us, to the same home, same parents. We're all just kids, in the same crazy family.

And that's just what I learned on the first day.....

Moments & Mercies/ Whats for Breakfast?

Today I am overwhelmed with the tender mercies of the last couple of hours which is the culmination of prayers, increasing amounts of time "not fretting" and trying to grab desperate glances into the future to be sure its all going to be ok. Once again, God not only knows me but cares enough to prove it. 

Moment:  Even tho I just got the perfect job, it doesn't start till after the money runs out and it isnt going to pay enough to really feel confident about the future.
Mercy: A check in the mail for more than I anticipated which is a clear message that he is very aware of my
financial obligations and isnt going to desert me as I go through the "skinny" places. The scriptures say that he takes care of each day as it comes.  I'm grateful he was aware of this day.

Moment: Every day I feed Abby, I notice how her supply of food is getting smaller and wondering how I'm going to buy the next bag.  (I know that Al will, if I asked him too, but its kind of a pride thing.  Was a big deal when I got her that she was my dog and I would take care of her).
Mercy: Well, for every 10 bags of dog food you buy, you get the next one free.  Apparently, we're on the 11th bag, since the free coupon came in the mail today as well.

Moment: I really love going to the Lehi Rodeo.  My heart felt a little prick when I realized I would miss it this year.
Mercy: Al got asked to cook the BBQ for one of the BYU singles wards this weekend.  After the food, they're all going to the Lehi Rodeo and have tickets for us too!  Yahoo!

The process is still thick and uncertain, but tender mercies scattered along the way, reassure me that I am not lost. I am in awe and deeply humbled.

And breakfast!  As far as cheese quesadillas, Scarlet was a little perplexed and incredulous that I served them for breakfast when the girls were sleeping over.  Rose was fine with it and Scarlet's always been on board with my food quirks before (weird smoothies, homemade hummus, etc) but I guess everyone has their limits. Apparently when I suggested she dip it in the strawberry yogurt was what really put her over the top.  I think its funny that she thinks that's odd.  But as I poll, I'm learning that there's more who wrinkle their nose than those who don't. Sigh...what can I say?

If you are already sad, here is something that may help...

Wise words from Jack Handy

If you are being chased by an angry bull and you notice you are also being chased by a swarm of bees...it doesn't really change things. JUST KEEP RUNNING!
- Jack Handy

If I have a Statistics test and two huge homeworks that must be done by Monday and then find out that Biochemistry and Molecular Biology both have tests opening on Tuesday and Anatomy has a whacked out quiz on Saturday. It really doesn't change things. Just keep studying..........

Bounce

Be yourself. Best advice ever. I guess.

In the end, who else can you be, right?

I didn't get the PA seat at University of Utah.
Myself didn't suit theirselves, apparently.

I'm deciding to let that be ok.

I used to have a big, glorious red ball. No matter what it slammed into, it always seemed to rebound beautifully, in its own awkward, resilient way. I miss that ball.

Let it Rain!

Stare

Why is it that what we stare at those we love? How does stretching beyond all limits, working harder then humanly possible, losing precious chunks of sanity and wringing your heart in directions unimaginable cause you to stare? I don't get it.

I stared at my babies, I stared at my children, I stared at my teenagers, I stared at my young adults. It was irritating to them but I couldn't stop. It wasn't possible then, and its not possible now. As the years continue, I am as enthralled by them as I have ever been. I am in awe and wonderment of the people they are. Thus, I am staring. Still. Maybe forever.

The generations roll forward and those who have been stared at for years are now hopelessly fixated on their own wondrous creations. I love it.

Volunteering

So today was my first day to volunteer at the health clinic. I learned a few things.

1-bring your own pen.
2- people who come to health clinics are called patients, not clients.
3- if you push the button on the thermometer (to activate), it eventually beeps, which means that it has actually recorded a temperature. If you don't push the button, everyone's temperature is 97.2 and you look like a real idiot.
4-you don't have to speak Spanish to know that the 3 year old who is screaming at you isn't going to let you take her temperature.
5-when you pop the plastic ear cover off the thermometer, its cool if you can make a long shot into the wastebasket. If the patient is under 10 years old, you can get a million dollar giggle if you miss it by a mile.
6-a smile is worth a thousand words and gesturing is entertaining, but sometimes it just works better if you go get the interpreter.
7-the PA admissions committee was right, I wasn't ready. I have a lot to learn.

Pause

Amy's blog about her annual reflection got me thinking about my efforts to get into PA school. I realized I had a list of my own.

1-Chemistry is as hard as everyone says it is, BUT hard doesn't mean impossible and I actually like it and may (MAY) be kinda good at it .

2- Just because I'm busy and trying to do too much, is not an excuse for not being prepared. Walking into a prospective PA school without knowing their mission statement cold, is foolish. Period. What was I thinking?

3- No more black business blazers and stiff white (ugly) dress shirts from Express. I was trying to be who I thought they wanted. (they being the Head of Admissions). The next face to face encounter, I will be wearing something from Anthropology.

4- I periodically feel ridiculous for not just settling down with the life I've created and just cruise it until the end. But I don't believe the "end" is really the end and cruising for 40 more years sounds really boring.

5- I don't really know if I must be a PA or not. What I do know it that I must serve the world's children and that I don't have enough education or resources to do it. Becoming a PA just makes sense. If there is an alternative, I'm listening....

6- "Without sufficient sacrifice, winning isn't meaningful and losing doesn't hurt" (Words off of the back of a really cool t-shirt). Last application cycle I had a dream. I worked hard in that dream, but there was still a fair share of glittery illusion in the background. This year there is nothing dream like about it. I'm tired, dinged up and my ego terribly bruised. It feels very real. Real is better.

Elimination Reaction

Dear Organic Chemistry,
Its true. I loved you once. Back at the beginning. But now I think it may have actually just been infatuation. You were bright and engaging and challenging. There was such a rush when I would finally break through and understand your language and see your world.

But over that last one million hours of being your constant companion, I'm sad to say that the love is dying. I really want you to quit talking, stop making exceptions for all of your rules and quit cramming your postulates down my throat. I told you I didn't like to cook, yet you insist that I synthesis epoxides, alkenes, nucleophiles and alcohol (of all things)! I am in such a jumble I no longer know what is appropriate....do I flip it, hydrate it, reduce it or hydrogenate it?
Lately, I catch myself just staring at it. Yes, it is definitely time to part ways. Today would be good.

After weeks of recovery, its possible I will miss you. I may long for the engaging conversations and the convoluted way you organize and re-organize yourself. I may pine away for the mechanisms you taught me that I can no longer recall. But right now all I feel is burned out. You are exhausting. Good by. Please go away.

One Breathless Ballerina Moment

Staring right into the eyes of the dream you've been cradling in your heart since forever. You only get a handful of those in a lifetime. They ought to be treasured.

Traditions

So I've had enough of the yearly comments made by my children under their breath (and over their breath) about how we don't have any Christmas traditions in our family.

Now I could argue that. (There has always been a Christmas tree, Scott.)

But then again, growing up, they had to be flexible with their holidays as they shuttled back and forth between parents and adapted to a blended family. Maybe their point is valid.

This is the year it's gonna change. There will be TRADITIONS.

New socks on Christmas Eve. From now until the day I die, each one will open a present on Christmas Eve that will contain a new pair of socks. Everyone will have happy feet.

A pickle in the Christmas tree. That's right. A pickle. It is a Norwegian tradition (from what I've heard). I'm adopting it. The pickle is hidden in the tree and there is a treat for every girl and boy who can find it :-)

And lastly, there will be music. Jingle Bells and other tunes played on wrapping paper tubes. Those lovely cardboard instruments resonate a fabulous tone when whacked on one's own (or someone else's) head.

Everyone should have a few traditions tucked in their heart pocket as they go through life. I hope I'm not too late. Merry Christmas to all.

Slugs, Snails, Puppy dog tails

Does every boy need a dog?

Or is it that every dog needs a boy?

Driving the Dream

So I didn't get an interview with University of Utah. It knocked the wind out of me for a moment. Then I realized. That first rejection letter is like getting the first dent in your car. It's a big deal. All of the subsequent dings, however, are barely mentionable.

So it will be with getting into PA school.

The first dent. Done.

Now I can refocus on driving. I'm sure there will be a few more dings along the way, but they will be more inconvenient, than upsetting. As long as the car still drives, I'm still in the game. For as long as it takes.

Today

I've been to Scotland and back. There is much to say. But its a bit overwhelming at the moment to put thoughts, pictures and stories into any kind of coherent offering.

So... I would just like to say. That today. I stained E. coli in microbiology lab and looked at it under the microscope.

I'll call you!

Historically, I have been dragged into the cosmos of technology one microchip at a time and only then by very persistent and determined children. Not so with this iPhone. The minute I saw it, I was knocking and begging at the door of opportunity. I wanted one SO BAD that I had to have the "grown-up" talk with my heart (you know, the one about your money being committed elsewhere yadah, yadah, yadah....) When my family presented me with a box, just the right size and weight, my heart skipped out of its pocket and became erratic (another "grown-up" talk about being grateful so as not to be disappointed). But, there it was, sitting in my hand!!! Stunned and dazed. Then giggles, then tears and then a weird gripping and wringing of my hands (a gesture I have adopted when I am emotionally "over the top", I guess.)

I listened so hard to all the instructions so I would do everything right. I got my itunes loaded, all my phone numbers in, took a few pictures, surfed the internet, downloaded a really cool medical app and a princess app for Scarlet, checked my email and sent a couple of celebratory texts. It wasn't until this morning, when I realized I didn't know how to make a phone call! (True story)

THANK YOU FAMILY! I wanted it so much. So much. Thank you.