Tag Archives: family

34

“God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.”
– Voltaire

Today, August 1, 2013, is the last day that I will ever be 34 years old.

As you get older, birthdays don’t seem to hold the same significance that they did when you were younger. Have you noticed that? You don’t really “look forward” to them anymore. In fact, at some point, they become something that you even somewhat dread. (Another year older!? Really??) But I have decided that, starting this year, I’m going to put a stop to that nonsense.

As I prepare to turn the page to 35, I’m going to take a moment to look back over the year I was 34. The good, the bad – everything notable that took place during my time on this earth as a 34-year-old. Each year holds special moments that are gone in the blink of an eye – moments that we will never get back and can only be relived through memories. They should be cherished and appreciated and yes, even celebrated – the bad, along with the good. But most important of all, they should be noticed. For these are the moments that make us who we are – the moments that shape and mold us into the awesome, unique individuals that comprise humanity, and that give each of us our own story to tell.

So, here’s mine.

Please join me as I look back over the 34 most notable events of my 34th year (in no particular order):

1. I started a blog. I had toyed with the idea for years, but I finally got up the courage to do it this year. And it has been AMAZING! If you’re reading this, you’re one of the reasons why. I’m blown away by how many people read this thing and by all the responses I have gotten from it. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

2. I got my first writing award (and check!). I got up the nerve to enter a local writing contest and was shocked to get a letter in the mail saying that I had won first place in the essay category. Woohoo!

3. I got my first rejection letter. Yep. A real-life “your stuff isn’t what we’re looking for” letter. And you know what? I actually thought it was kind of cool. Really. You’re not a real writer until you get a rejection. Initiation complete.

4. I saw Niagara Falls. And it was AWESOME!

5. I saw my first marathon. A group of us traveled to New York for the Wineglass Marathon. Many in the group were running the marathon, some running the half marathon, and some, like myself, were just there to watch. There was NOTHING like it. One of my favorite running-related quotes of all time: “If you lose faith in humanity, go watch a marathon.” – Kathrine Switzer. There is so much truth to that. The feeling of camaraderie and “oneness” between the runners and spectators alike was something that I don’t even know how to put into words. This was definitely one of the highlights of my 34th year, hands down.

6. I ran a 5K in New York, and got my personal best time of 30:55. The day before the marathon, there was a 5k as part of the festivities surrounding the event. I decided to run it in, and ended up getting my best personal 5K time. My boyfriend captured this picture at the very moment that I looked up and saw the time clock at the finish line. I just love it. The picture says it all. It was nice to feel so proud of myself.

7. My son joined the cross country team at school. This was such great news to me. I was so proud of him, and felt like my running had made an influence on that decision. Since joining the team, he has gone on to race in a few races with me, and place in many of them (including a 3rd place overall finish for one of them!). I’m such a proud mom.

8. I ran my first 10k. Shortly after returning from the New York trip, I knew that I couldn’t stop at 5Ks. It was time to start training for longer distances. My first 10K was a trail run, and I ran it with my son. I wasn’t fast, but I was very proud. And it was the first time that the thought entered my mind that I might even be able to go further than that. Which brings me to #9..

9. I ran my first half-marathon. Wow. All of my hard work paid off and I crossed that finish line with possibly more pride in myself than I had ever felt before. Not too shabby for a 34-year-old, if I don’t say so myself.

(Here’s the blog entry about the half marathon if you’d like to read more: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/05/04/i-did-it/)

10. I watched my boyfriend Richard be inducted as the Master of the Ashe Masonic Lodge #594. This was actually very, very cool. I had never seen anything like this ceremony (I’m a chick – we’re not allowed, ya know), and I admit that I went into it thinking that the rituals and secrecy were somewhat silly. But I came away with a deeper understanding of how much this fellowship means to those men, and what good, kind, noble men each and every one of them are. I was so incredibly proud to be Richard’s girlfriend that day. I won’t forget it anytime soon.

11. I started attending a new church. My boyfriend and I, along with our kids, have started attending Bethany United Methodist Church. It has been nice to feel like a part of a church family again. I needed that.

12. I moved. I finally took the plunge and moved out of a place that I was unhappy at. It has made all the difference in the world. It’s such a great feeling to actually look forward to going home for a change. Definitely a noteworthy event from my 34th year.

13. We lost our pet, Chicago. Little Chicago was something else. While just a kitten, my daughter found him in an old trash can outside our home. He had been hurt badly (we still don’t know by what – or whom), and could not move his hind legs. Kelly carried him around like a baby for weeks, feeding him milk from a tiny measuring spoon and giving him little kitty pain pills that an animal-loving friend of ours had provided. I just knew the little guy wasn’t going to make it, but alas – he surprised us all. He was with us for four years. I pretended like I didn’t like the little guy (he had THE MOST annoying meow in the world), but I feel his loss more than I ever thought I would have. We miss you, annoying little Chicago. You were loved.

14. I saw my grandma turn 83. Such a spry, spunky little Grandma she is too.

15. I lost another grandparent. My grandpa, Paul Pridemore (who we all referred to as “Mr. P.”) passed away during my 34th year. Mr. P. lived a long, happy, healthy 96 years on this earth and will be missed by everyone who knew him. I’ll bet he wasn’t the type to dread another birthday. He served as a good example to live life to the fullest while we’re here. I hope I’ll live to make him proud.

16. I ran the path that my other grandpa, Greene Halsey, had walked to school. This is something that I had wanted to do for a long time, and finally did it during my 34th year. I’ll post the link to the blog if you’d like to read more about it. I was very proud to have finally done this. https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/02/25/uphill-both-ways/

17. I sang in public for the first time (sort of). Ok, so technically, I had done this before in musicals. And at karaoke. But getting up and singing with my boyfriend at one of his gigs was SO nerve-wracking. I couldn’t believe I had the courage to get up there. It was hard – and I was shaking like a leaf – but I did it. And have done it a few more times since. Definitely a noteworthy moment from age 34.

18. I lost Richard. Definitely not one of the happiest moments of age 34, but noteworthy nonetheless. Richard and I split up for 2 months. We both tried to move on, but we found our way back (thank God). I think we both grew up more during those 2 months than we had in a long time. Sometimes you just have to travel alone for a while (whether you want to or not) to find out what’s really important. And I definitely found out what was important. Him. I’m so glad he’s back.

19. I witnessed two little miracles. I saw the tiniest babies I had ever seen in my life – and they belonged to my sister. Her twins were born 10 weeks too early. Not many things have affected my life like seeing those tiny little healthy human beings. I’m so amazed at the technology that we have now that allowed for these two to survive.

Here they were then:

And here they are now:

(Again, if you’d like to check out the blog post about these little angels, here’s the link: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/04/03/week-old-miracles/)

If the 33-year-old Melissa didn’t believe in miracles, this 34-year-old Melissa sure as heck does.

20. I was the subject of a blog. My boyfriend and I were interviewed for a very public blog that was read by tons of people. How cool is that?! Definitely the first time that has ever happened. I was famous for a day!

Links: (Here’s the link to the actual blog: http://www.8womendream.com/55851/improve-womens-self-esteem / And here’s the link to my own blog post about the blog: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/05/22/self-image-part-2/)

21. I was on TV. Yep. My first TV appearance. I was interviewed for an art segment of a local channel regarding the role I was playing in an upcoming production. Awesomeness. Another first occurring in year 34. (blog link: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/03/12/fear/)

22. I starred in my first lead female role with Ashe County Little Theatre. I was so proud to have been cast as Mother in the show Life With Father. It took me a long time to become a part of this theatre, and this was such a monumental moment for me. I will remember it always. (Plus, my boyfriend’s son Riley got to play as one of my sons. Added bonus.)

23. My daughter starred in her first lead role ever. I have been involved in theatre for pretty much my whole life, but I never knew the meaning of “nervous” until I felt what I felt just before the curtain rose on opening night of Annie. Watching my baby girl stepping on to the stage in the title role was beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. I was so incredibly proud of her. Not only for her ability, but for her poise and humility throughout the production. This kid is going to go places. Mark my word.

(Related blog post: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/06/26/tomorrow/)

24. Lost a friend. Although I don’t count this as one of the highlights of my 34th year, I had a falling out with a very close friend. Looking back, I’m not so sure the problem was worth ending a friendship over (is it ever?), but it happened nonetheless. And it should be noted in this list. Perhaps I can come back with an update in year 35 that this has been mended? Perhaps. Either way. Friendship lost – duly noted on the list – moving along…

25. Mended a friendship. While we’re on the topic, I might as well mention that I regained a friend in my 34th year. This is a story that I hope to tell in a future blog, but for now, I’ll just say that it’s nice to have found my old friend again. And to know all is well. Everything always works out ok in the end, right? Chris, I’m glad you’re back.

26. Ran my first obstacle race. The Warrior Dash. *sigh* I don’t even have the energy to talk about this one anymore. If you want to read about it, I’ll post the link. You probably don’t though. It was NOT the best experience. But good or bad, it made the “34” list, so I guess it was notable.

(Blog link: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/warrior-dash-or-as-i-like-to-call-it-hell/)

27. Richard and I introduced each other to the fam. That’s a big deal. We were each thrown into the big, loud, happy mix at each other’s family get-togethers over the holidays, and then in a few events (some sad, some happy) since then. Nothing makes you feel like a “real” couple more than getting included in the family (dis)functions. 😉

28. We took our first ‘family’ trip to the beach. Richard’s family has this super cool tradition that spans the years (starting even before he was born) of all getting together to go to Myrtle Beach once a year. It’s a glorified family reunion, if you will. And this year, my kids and I were included. And that’s awesome. It meant so much to me to be included in something so special, and is definitely noteworthy in my 34 list.

29. Made it through a cancer scare. I was a basket case during the fall of my 34th year. We found a lump on my son’s neck that wouldn’t go away. 17 years ago, the same thing had happened to me when I was just a few years older than he was. And I had Hodgkin’s lymphoma. After excruciating weeks of waiting and worrying, a surgery was finally scheduled to remove the lump from his neck and have it tested. And – thank God – it was benign. There is no worry like that of a mother for her child. I gained a new appreciation and understanding for my own mother through this ordeal, and I hope to never have to go through anything like it again.

30. Got a standing ovation – mid-show. Now, THAT was cool. Of course, I was playing Elvis (sort of). And I sang Heartbreak Hotel. And I looked like this:

But still. Standing ovations mid-show just don’t happen. That was definitely one for the 34 list. Hands down.

31. Went to an AWESOME wedding. Now, you know if a wedding made the list, it must have kicked butt. Well…it did. That was the most fun I have had in a while. It was theatre-themed and full of people I love – how could you go wrong? I even blogged about it. (https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/05/13/completion/)

Thanks Jim & Rebecca for giving us these memories to cherish.

32. Visited the house Richard lived in when he was born. We took a little detour on the way back while we were in New York for the marathon, and swung by to take a look at the house that Richard lived in for the first six months of his life. It was the first time he had seen it since. That was a pretty cool moment. Very sentimental. I was proud to be able to tag along for that moment. That was a good “age 34” memory.

33. 4-mile Abingdon race with my son. Now, why did this make my list? Sure, I’ve run plenty of races by now – and quite a few of them with my son. But there was just something about this one. Most notably, when my son finished the race (well ahead of me, of course), he turned around and came back on the track to find me, and finished with me. It would be pretty difficult to leave that moment off of the top 34 list. Have I mentioned that I’m a proud momma?? (Blog post: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/03/17/favorite-race-so-far/)

And finally. We’ve reached #34. I saved what I felt was the most notable event for last. (And incidentally, if you’ve made it this far – I’m impressed.)

34. I was in a car accident. In April of my 34th year, I was in a pretty bad car accident. I totaled my car but, miraculously, walked away with only a few scratches. You don’t come away from something like that without some sort of “indention” on your life. It leaves a mark. The only thing that remained intact from my accident, besides myself, was my drivers side mirror. I found the mirror at the accident site days later, and took it home as a reminder. True to my word (as I mentioned in a blog post shortly after – https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/04/08/reflection/), I keep this mirror beside my bed on my nightstand. I feel like it serves a reminder that I’m still here. I’m still here. Life didn’t stop at 34. And there’s probably a reason for that.

And I fully intend to spend the rest of my time here on earth figuring out exactly what that is.

So, thank you. Thank you, reader, for taking this trip down memory lane with me. You know – you would think that it would be hard to come up with 34 things over a year that were notable, wouldn’t you? But I actually found myself having to weed some out. Isn’t that crazy? It’s amazing how much you realize actually happens in your world when you sit down and take the time to pull each event out and shine a light of remembrance on it. We should do this more often, shouldn’t we?

Goodbye, 34. You were awesome.

Hello, 35. You ready? We’ve got a lot of work to do. Let’s get started.

***

“The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate.”
– Oprah Winfrey

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: 34, 35, age, birthday, blog, blogging, daughter, family, friendship, half marathon, heart, heartbreak, inspirational, memories, motivational, photos, Quotes, relationships, theatre, writing. 4 Comments

Jul. ’13

Me

“What a laugh, though. To think that one human being could ever really know another. You could get used to each other, get so habituated that you could speak their words right along with them, but you never know why other people said what they said or did what they did, because they never even know themselves. Nobody understands anybody.”
– Orson Scott Card

I am going through a very hard time right now. The reason? Doesn’t matter. Just another hard time – you know how it is. You have them too. It would be great if life stayed up there on those peaks all the time, but we all know that the trail dips to the valleys every now and then.

And it sucks.

But this time, I’m starting to realize something. Most problems we have (all of us – not just me), at their very core, exist because people just don’t understand one another. And like the quote above illustrates, how can we? We don’t even understand ourselves.

Well, I don’t know if you care or not, but I’m going to use this blog to try to understand myself. I’m getting ready to describe…me.

And you know what? Maybe by the end of it, you’ll understand me too. And hey, who knows? Maybe this might even help you understand you. Or at least try. That’s all we can do, right?

“Walk with me for awhile, my friend—you in my shoes, I in yours—and then let us talk.”
– Richelle E. Goodrich

I am passionate.

I mean, seriously. I don’t half-ass anything. When I feel something, I freakin feel it. As you can imagine, that can go both ways. When I love you, I soooo love you. I’m hopelessly devoted and cannot even imagine being with anyone else. But when a negative emotion hits? You’re going to get the same intensity as the positive. If I’m mad, I’m furious. If you hurt me, I’m crushed.

I am innocent.

I hate to admit that, but I am. I’m naïve. I truly don’t understand this new world that we’re in where relationships have become casual and ‘hooking up’ seems to be the norm. I don’t desire to go out and drink until the wee hours of the morning. I have no desire whatsoever to ‘date.’ I am the most happy when I’m in a loving, committed relationship. Nothing else will do for me. My preferred past-time is hanging out with a bunch of kids and goofing off – not partying. Does that make me a dud? I guess.

I am loyal.

Once I am committed to something, I’m in. You can trust me 150%. There are no gray areas.

I am obsessive.

I admit it. I find it so incredibly hard to get my mind off of whatever is bothering me. I want to fix it. And a lot of people’s way of ‘fixing’ something is to find something else to temporarily ease the pain. Not me. I want to talk it to death; beat it to death; squeeze it until every last drop of life is gone. I have lost a lot of people I love this way because I tend to love people who are exactly the opposite. People who need their time and space to deal with things. I have always hated this about myself.

I am intensely intuitive.

I know when something is not right. Maybe that stems from my extreme interest in other people. People fascinate me, so I pay attention to them. I watch what they do and figure out why they do it. So, with that being the case, I can usually spot when something is not right. I know the signs and signals. The problem with this? The problem is that while yes, something may be off, my overactive imagination turns what may be a little molehill into Mount Everest. I picture the absolute worst scenario in my head and assume that is the case until I know otherwise. Then, when I find out otherwise, it’s hard to put what I’ve found out in place of what I already assumed to be true. That sucks.

I am honest.

To a fault. I lay it ALL out there. Whether you want it or not. And the problem with that? I expect others to be that way too. And then I’m crushed when they’re not. I wish I were a better liar. I wish I could be mysterious. I wish, I wish, I wish. But it’s not going to happen. It’s not who I am. And since it’s not who I am, I am especially sensitive to it in other people. I don’t understand it, and I am deeply wounded by it. Once I’ve seen dishonesty, it’s really, really, hard for me to unsee it.

I am forgiving.

I fully understand that this may seem to counteract what I just said. But it doesn’t. You’ve heard of forgiving and forgetting? Well, the forgiving part is easy for me. I have forgiven so many things over the years. I understand that people make mistakes. I hope people understand that I make mistakes too. Crap happens. But forgetting? *Sigh* Sadly, forgetting is not my specialty. Can one exist without the other? I don’t know, you tell me.

And finally, one last thing.

I like myself.

It’s true. Yes, I’ve just mentioned some things that aren’t so great about my personality. But I’ve listed some things that I think are pretty honorable too. I have finally – FINALLY – come to a place in my life where I realize that I’m just really not that bad. I fully understand that some people cannot accept my blunt, intense nature. But I just absolutely cannot change who I am. Just like they can’t change who they are. We just have to learn to live together, you know? Flaws, differences, quirks. We just have to accept ourselves for who we are, and accept others for who they are. That’s the only choice we have.

Now that I’ve written this, I’m not sure what the point was really. I guess I’m just hoping to be understood. That’s all we’re ever hoping for, isn’t it? Do you see yourself in anything I’ve described? Are you the complete opposite? Is someone you love like me? Do you think understanding them might help?

It’s your turn.

Who are you?

There may be someone that could really benefit from you letting them know. It could be a start to mending something that is broken.

I sure hope so. Life is way too short for the alternative.

***

“Before we can forgive one another, we have to understand one another.”
– Emma Goldman

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: blog, change, dating, family, flaws, friendship, heartbreak, inspiration, loss, love, loyalty, me, motivation, passion, photos, problems, Quotes, relationships, sharing, trouble, understanding, writing. 1 Comment

Jun. ’13

Tomorrow

Well, it’s here!

Tomorrow night is finally opening night for ANNIE! And I couldn’t let this day go by without a blog shout-out to my daughter, Kelly. Tomorrow night, she will walk out onto a stage in front of a room full of people and say her first spoken line in a show ever.

Her first spoken line. And she’s Annie!

I am blown away by the transformation I’ve seen in my little girl over the past few months of Annie rehearsals. This is the girl who only showed up for auditions in hopes of possibly being one of the orphans (hopefully with no spoken lines), or maybe even just to help backstage like she has done in a few shows in the past. When she was cast as Annie, she was almost in tears. And not the happy kind either. I’m talking more along the lines of the “Oh-my-gosh-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into-help-momma-get-me-out-of-this” kind.

And I’ll be honest with you. I wasn’t so sure she could do it either.

Now, don’t get me wrong – I absolutely knew she was capable of it. The girl has got a beautiful singing voice and can dance like nobody’s business. And she looks the part, without a doubt. But to have the courage to get up in front of all of these people and act? I just wasn’t so sure. She’s always been a “behind the scenes” kind of kid when it came to theatre. I was the actor and she was the kid who would tag along with her mom to watch.

I remember taking her to her first professional theatre show (which was Annie, no less – at Barter Theatre in Abingdon, Virginia). At one point, after being mesmerized myself by the phenomenal performance taking place in front of me, I glanced over to see Kelly’s reaction to the show. And what was she doing? The little thing was turned around backwards in her seat staring up at the lighting booth and the spotlight operator. She was so much more interested in how they were making the show, rather than the show itself. Yep, she loved theatre – but in a much different way than her momma did. She wasn’t just interested in the acting. She fell in love with the process.

And now here she is – the lead role in the summer musical.

It still seems so surreal to me. It has been amazing watching her come out of her shell. She didn’t just peep her head out from the shadows to see what was happening on the stage. She made a huge, flying leap right into the spotlight. And let me tell you – this is where she belongs. And I think she’s starting to see that too. All she needed was a little confidence.

And this brings me to the point I’m really trying to make with all of this.

I’m so incredibly proud of my daughter. I mean, what mom wouldn’t be? But that pride doesn’t come from the fact that she’s Annie. Yes, she has learned to control her beautiful voice and sing songs that she thought she couldn’t manage just a few short months ago. Yes, she has studied hard and learned her lines and rarely misses a beat. Yes, she has done all of the things that make her a great little actress and has come a very long way since that scared little girl was given the news that she was going to be Annie. But none of that is what makes me the most proud.

What makes me the most proud is watching as her confidence and ability soars to new heights, and yet her ego and humility have not budged.

She is the most gracious, most appreciative kid I think I’ve ever seen. She takes compliments from people with a shy sweetness that does not indicate one little ounce of arrogance. She sent out a mass email to the cast and crew last night thanking everyone for their hard work – from the make-up ladies to the costume maker and everyone in between. She has learned first hand how much work it takes to create something this spectacular, and she appreciates each and every minute detail that has been put into making the show a success. That’s something a lot of actors never take the time to see. (I know I’ve been guilty of it myself at times. Too often, actually.)

To excel at something, even attain a bit of greatness at it, and yet still maintain a humble heart? That is something that is very hard to do. It takes a special kind of person for that. I think we could all learn a lesson or two from my little Annie.

And, in closing, I want to mention one more proud momma moment.

I too am in the show. And last night – our second-to-last dress rehearsal before opening night – I felt completely miserable. What is probably an ear and sinus infection (who has time or money to go to the doctor?) hit its peak last night and my body refused to cooperate any further. For the first time in my career as an actor, I had to miss a dress rehearsal. I couldn’t leave, of course, since I was little Annie’s ride home – so someone suggested that I go lie down on a couch in the lobby. So, I did. I took my feverish self to the lobby and crashed. And no sooner did I lie down, than I was out like a light. I only woke up about three times during the entire performance. And you know why?

Once was when Kelly was bringing me a drink of water.

Another time was when she brought a blanket she found in the dressing room to put over me.

And the final time was when she came to tell me the show was over and that it was time to go home.

There she was in one of her final dress performances in her first starring role, and yet she took every down moment she had between her many costume changes and stage appearances, to come check on her sick mom.

Have I mentioned how proud I am of my daughter? I want to be just like her when I grow up.

I know every mom is supposed to brag on our kids. It’s our job. But in my case? In my case, I’ve got someone pretty special here that calls me Mommy. She is definitely a star – on and off the stage.

So, break a leg, sweet girl! It’s your turn to shine.

***

“It must have been cold there in my shadow
To never have sunlight on your face
You were content to let me shine, that’s your way
You always walked a step behind
So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile to hide the pain
Did you ever know that you’re my hero?
You’re everything I wish I could be
I can fly higher than an eagle
Because you are the wind beneath my wings.”
– Bette Midler, Wind Beneath My Wings

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: acting, Annie, blog, community theatre, daughter, family, inspiration, inspirational, love, motivation, motivational, opening night, passion, performance, Quotes, star, theatre, writing. 2 Comments

Jun. ’13

Help!

“A healthier way of thinking and acting is to allow yourself to receive the help and love you need. You weren’t designed to live alone. You have limitations on your strength and abilities.”
– Michael Barbarulo

As some of you know from my previous posts, I have just spent the past month or so in the moving process. What a hassle that was (and still is). Now, granted, I did most of it myself – the packing, the address changes, the phone/tv switches, etc. – but when it came time to actually move…well, my weak little arms can’t carry beds and bookshelves and curio cabinets and whatnot. So, I had to do something that tends to be a little difficult for me. I had to ask for help. Seems simple enough, right? People need help moving all the time. No biggie.

*Sigh*

Oh my lordy, does this chick hate to ask for help.

It has been that way ever since I was a little girl. I have always been so incredibly determined to do things myself. One of my favorite stories to hear about my childhood is the one my grandmother tells about my first big acting debut. I was a whole three years old and was getting ready to go onstage for my one big line in the church play. (The line that I had begged to be given, by the way. I insisted that I was big enough to have a speaking part, so they conceded and let me have my way.) So, as part of the last-minute coaching my nervous grandmother was giving me just before the show, I was told to look to the left and Miss So-and-so (the name escapes me) would be standing in the wings to whisper my line to me if I forgot it. My grandma says that, upon hearing this, I stood up straight in all my three-year-old glory, put my little hand on my hip, and, filled with shock that the woman would have the nerve even suggest such a thing, I calmly and proudly announced to her and all who would listen:

“If I forget my line, I’ll tell myself.”

Ha! Oh, how I love that story. What spunk! What confidence!

What a brat.

Well, I’m here to tell ya – not much has changed. Not much at all. Why I insist on being so full of myself, I’ll never know.

So, fast forward about 32 years, and here I was getting ready to move. Again. And as much as I’d have liked to have thrown my little hand on my hip and announced to the world that I didn’t need anyone’s help…sadly, that was not the case. So, in come my boyfriend and dad to save the day.

Awww. Aren’t they just too cute?

I’m beyond grateful for their help, but it really has made me wonder why I have such trouble accepting it. Is it that I really am ‘full of myself’ like I mentioned earlier? Do I feel like there’s no need to bring in help because, in all my big-headedness, I think no one can do it like I can? Is it the whole “if you want the job done right, do it yourself” mentality?

I don’t know. Maybe.

But I don’t think that’s really it. Not at all actually.

Maybe to that little three-year-old, that’s what it was. But to this thirty-something-year-old? To her, it’s a little deeper than that.

It’s the fear of being a burden.

I absolutely hate to think that I’m causing someone trouble. That I’m taking time out of their life for something when they could be using that time for more important things. That, because of me, they were inconvenienced. It’s hard to break that mindset. It’s hard to not just go ahead and do things yourself rather than accepting the help that you need. And because of this, I end up being overwhelmed at times. I take on too many projects – too many tasks – because I won’t just ask someone to pitch in. And that’s silly really. And you know why that’s silly?

Here’s why.

In the midst of the move, and of this whole mindset that I had going on, I mentioned to my boyfriend Richard that I was sorry to have to ask him to help. His response? “Sorry? Why are you sorry? I want to do this. I’m a helper.”

I’m a helper.

Hmmm. Have I ever really stopped to think about that? Has it ever once occurred to me that people actually like helping? That it makes them feel good? I feel good when I’m helping someone – why should I be the one to stand in the way of allowing someone else to have that feeling? To help someone is to show them that you care. That you love them.

Uh oh. I think I’m onto something here. Because you know what that means?

To accept help is to accept love.

Well, how about that. Maybe that’s the problem I’ve had all along? Maybe accepting love is a little scary? Yep. I think that’s probably it.

Yep. It sure is.

So, are you like me? I’m willing to bet you are. I think most of us are like that to an extent. Well, you know what? Stop it. Be brave. Next time someone offers to help you – let them. Really. Get that little hand off of that hip, and accept the gift they are wanting to give you. You know? Let go. Give them the opportunity to do what they want to do for you. Let yourself accept help.

Let yourself accept love.

***

“Make someone happy,
Make just one someone happy,
And you will be happy, too.”

– Jimmy Durante, “Make Someone Happy” lyrics

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: blog, dating, family, help, inspiration, love, motivation, Quotes, relationships, writing. 4 Comments

May. ’13

Good stuff

Two separate receipts – each with a $100 tip.

You hear about these kinds of things in the news all the time, right? Some unsuspecting waitress somewhere is left a large tip from some kind, generous patron. Pretty cool, huh?

These feel-good stories are always nice reminders that there are good people in the world. But let’s be honest here. Sadly, it always seems like these stories are far off somehow…like these ‘good people’ in the world aren’t actually in your world. Right? When they are just stories that you hear about or read about, they pretty much rank up there with TV shows or movies or books. They seem ‘made up’ somehow. Like fairy tales. Oh, you know they are true – these things really happened to someone. But when something doesn’t happen close to home, it’s easy to dismiss it and file it in the “that’s not going to happen to anyone I know” category. You feel me?

Well, not this time.

The picture I posted above? These are two receipts that were left on the table for my very-pregnant sister, Cathy. The “Payton” that the handwritten notes are referring to is my soon-to-be-born niece.

And the story gets even better.

The two kind patrons who left these tips? They were two young soldiers who had just returned from serving overseas.

Wow.

Cathy was moved to tears when she saw this much-needed selfless gift that was left behind for her. And, frankly, so was I.

I’m not really sure what else I can add to this story. I think the receipts speak for themselves – they are their own story. Their own proof that goodness and kindness still exist in this world. The handwriting, the celebration of a new life, the true generosity (growing up a military brat, I know personally that soldiers don’t easily have $100 bucks laying around to give away), the display of human kindness, of human togetherness….Wow. Just wow.

I don’t know about you, but this was something I think I needed to see.

Thank you, soldiers.

***

“For it is in giving that we receive.”
-Francis of Assisi

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: blog, family, friendship, gift, giving, heart, inspiration, inspirational, love, motivation, passion, photos, Quotes, receipt, sharing, soldiers, waitress, writing. Leave a comment

May. ’13

Dress the Part

I noticed something interesting the other day.

This is my daughter, Kelly.

This picture was taken on the day of her 7th grade graduation. We curled her hair, she had a little makeup on, wore a cute little dress…she was looking pretty darn spiffy. Well, later that evening, she and I had to be at theatre rehearsal. (She was cast as Annie in our local theatre’s upcoming production – if you haven’t already heard me mention that about 3,000 times. I’m just a little bit proud.) She still had her hair curled, still had the little dress on, etc. And something interesting happened. When she stepped on that stage that night, she did the best she had ever done.

Now, granted, my daughter is capable of playing this role. She is beyond capable. But with this being her first large role (first speaking role, even), she’s a bit nervous and a little reserved. Up to this point, she hadn’t found her ‘sea legs,’ so to speak. But by golly, she was swimming that night. That girl was spot on. I saw more spunk and confidence than I had seen thus far.

After rehearsal, I told her what a great job she had done and asked what made her come alive like she did. She said, “I don’t know. I had my hair all curly and a dress on…I guess I just felt like Annie.”

“I guess I just felt like Annie.”

Kinda profound when you think about it. She dressed the part, so she felt like the part. Simple as that.

So, how does that apply to the rest of us?

Granted, I know we’re not all title characters in a musical. Most of us are just out here floating about in our regular everyday lives trying to make it through the day without any major catastrophes. But I think I just learned a pretty good lesson from my 13-year-old daughter. Whatever I want (need?) to be, I just have to “dress the part.”

Let’s take my running for example. Now, I’ve heard a lot of runners have mentioned this before so I’m not alone in this thought process. Sometimes I just don’t feel like running. I just don’t. I know I need to, I know I’ll feel good when it’s over, but none of that matters. I’m just tired and I don’t feel like it. But as soon as I put on my running clothes and running shoes…suddenly, I’m transformed. I went from a lazy bum on the couch who didn’t feel like doing anything at all, to an all-out runner who is raring to go. It’s that simple. I dress like a runner, so I feel like a runner.

Now, that’s a literal example. But maybe this can be applied in a not-so-literal way. Maybe it’s not always an outfit.

Maybe if you want to be a certain thing, you just have to pretend like you are that thing. You know?

You want to be happy? Dress the part. Slap on a smile and be happy. The first time you do it, you may just feel dumb…smiling for no reason like that like a big dummy. But the second time you do it, who knows? You might actually start to feel a little better. The third? Maybe even better. Eventually your smiles will not only fool other people into thinking that you’re actually happy…you might even start to fool yourself. How about that?

Dress the part.

You want to forgive someone who hurt you? Act like you have. Seriously. Just act like that. When those negative thoughts pop into your mind, tell yourself that that person is forgiven. You don’t have to mean it. Just say it. Again – at first, it will feel silly. You’ll feel like a liar. But the next time? Maybe it will feel like a little less of a lie. The next time? Even less. Eventually, maybe it just might not be a lie. Maybe it’ll even become the truth.

Maybe you can put on that little imaginary cloak of forgiveness and finally – finally – just move on.

Dress the part.

Fill in the blank with whatever you need to fill it in with. You want to be a more positive person? Act like you’re a positive person. You want to be a better friend? Be a better friend. You want to trust someone? Trust them.

You want to love someone? Love them.

Dress the part.

Start with baby steps. Then bigger steps. Then keep increasing your stride until you’re moving at full speed.

YOU alone have the power to change everything.

***

“Endeavor to be what you desire to appear.”
– Socrates

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: acting, Annie, blog, change, daughter, dress, family, inspiration, inspirational, love, mother, motivation, motivational, performance, photos, Quotes, run, runner, running, self-fulfilling, theatre, writing. 1 Comment

May. ’13

Winds of Change

The winds of change. *Sigh* They sure do seem to be blowing quite a bit in my world here lately. Am I building walls or windmills? Good question.

So, here are some examples of a few of the changes.

Example #1

Yesterday, I watched my beautiful little daughter ‘graduate’ the 7th grade. See? Isn’t she gorgeous?

Where we live, high school starts in 8th grade. So as of today, I’m officially the mother of two high school students. Wow. Talk about change. Where has the time gone? That little freckled-face kid is a beautiful young woman. How did that happen??

Example #2

I’m moving. Ugh. Moving is a big fat giant pain the butt, even when it’s for the best. I’ve done it a million times in my life for various reasons, but it just never gets any easier. Packing up your life and moving it somewhere else is just plain difficult. Especially when you’re like me. I don’t just throw things in a box – I go through them. Each and every single thing, one by one. And sometimes that can be a little painful. Those things that are collecting dust in a box in the corner are there for a reason. Stirring them up is not always the best idea. But there are times that it has to be done, and unfortunately, this is one of them.

So…me and my feather duster have some work to do.

Example #3

This is a picture of my beautiful little grandparents taken just a few months ago at my aunt’s house where they were staying for a while until decisions were made about their care.

And this is the picture my daughter took this past weekend of my mom and I at my grandpa’s bedside in the nursing home.

Between pneumonia, dementia, and advanced age, changes have hit them and our family in what seems like the drop of a hat. Walking through their empty house this past weekend (cleared out in preparation to sell for their care), I couldn’t help but feel the change all around me. And watching my mother and her sisters as they took care of all the details, my heart just broke for them.

Change, man. It can be rough. I’m tellin’ ya.

I could go on and on listing various little life changes, but I won’t. Not all are as poignant as aging grandparents and lost childhood, but they’re everywhere. Life is all about change. That’s no secret. We all know that. And knowing it doesn’t really make it any easier, does it?

But maybe we need to look at that just a little differently.

Yes, life is all about change. But isn’t change also all about life?

Think about it. As long as things are changing, then you’re still alive. You’re still on this crazy ride. Your heart is still beating. You’re still laughing, crying, living, losing, loving. While change can be difficult, it’s so important to remember that it’s happening for a reason.

Yes, my baby girl is growing up. That’s a good thing. She’ll never crawl into my lap with her baby dolls again, but she’ll go on to have her own little girl to crawl into her lap. It’s life. And it’s beautiful.

Yes, I’m digging through old memories during the stress of a move. But in doing so, I’m also getting rid of some of the old baggage that might have been weighing me down. And I’m deciding what needs to remain and packing it up for another day. I’m simplifying my life and moving on to better things, a little lighter in the process.

Yes, my grandparents are in a different phase of their life. And it’s very, very hard on the rest of us. But it is strengthening bonds in the ones left behind. Some of the family is banding together and taking care of what needs to be taken care of. They are sharing their sorrows, helping each other through. Coming together at a time when they need each other. Showing their strengths in the midst of others’ weakness. And when the inevitable time comes that my grandparents pass on, they will do so knowing that the ones who truly loved them took care of them in the end.

Yes, change sure is hard sometimes. But – if things are changing, you’re still breathing. See it for what it is, embrace it, do the best you can with what life is handing you, and just keep moving forward.

Let’s build some windmills, shall we?

***

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them – that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”
-Lao Tzu

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: blog, change, dating, daughter, family, heartbreak, inspiration, inspirational, loss, love, memories, mother, photos, Quotes, relationships, winds of change, writing. 1 Comment

May. ’13

Reinforcement

“I love working with an audience. I love working with actual people who, you know, if they’re moved, you see it. If you say something they’re stunned by, you see their jaws drop. If they’re amused, they laugh – that kind of reinforcement, I totally adore.”
– Jane Pauley

As an actress, I really dig the above quote. There’s just so much truth to it. When I’m doing a show, I know exactly how the audience feels about it. If they like it, they’ll smile. If I did a good job, they’ll clap. If I was able to move them to tears, they’ll cry.

Don’t you wish it worked like in real life?

Seriously, think about it. How much of what you feel do you keep inside? How many chances do you let slip past to tell someone how their everyday, real life ‘performance’ is going?

I’ve been watching my daughter struggle with a very large theatre role. She’s practically brand new to acting (only small non-speaking roles in prior shows) and has now been cast as the lead. Now, you don’t have to be involved in theatre to know that being the lead of a show is going to carry some serious weight with it. Especially when you’re only 13. And even more especially when you’re a kid who is too hard on yourself like she is. She expects perfection to come out on the first try (and I’m afraid some of the others involved expect that of her to), and she gets so down on herself when it doesn’t. Poor kid.

But I’ve started to notice one particular person in the cast who can change her outlook around in an instant. Appropriately enough, that person is the one who plays “Daddy Warbucks.” (If you’re not familiar with the show, Warbucks is the one who ultimately adopts little orphan Annie in the end.) Warbucks is played by our friend Jeff Dreyer. And let me tell ya – Jeff is phenomenal with my daughter. She looks forward to the rehearsals when she’s working with him because she is comfortable with him. He’s so good to her and always tells her what a great job she is doing. When she makes a mistake, he’s always quick with a, “You’ll get it next time,” or “Don’t be so hard on yourself – you’re doing great.” I see what a difference this makes in her, and how much better she does after hearing this from him.

Which got me thinking.

How often do we do that for people? How often do I do that for people?

Someone doesn’t have to be performing on a stage for them to deserve positive feedback. So much of what those around us do in any given day sadly goes unnoticed. Things become routine and expected, and therefore no longer outwardly appreciated. (Every mother knows where I’m coming from, I’m sure.)

So, I want you to think about this. Is there someone in your life who deserves some recognition? Some appreciation? Some verbal applause?

Well, get to it. Give them some positive reinforcement. Give them a pat on the back. Thank them for what they do for you and how much they mean to you.

I’ll start by giving a little shout-out to my boyfriend, Richard. That man is a true saint at times…especially this week. I have been stressed to the max. There’s no one particular huge problem or anything…just a multitude of small things that are adding up and sending me on an emotional rampage. There have been times this week that I’ve just wanted to crawl under the covers and let the world go on without me while I take a sick day from it all. But I can’t. There’s too many people depending on me. I have to get up and keep moving, whether I like it or not.

And there he is to help.

He has picked up the slack for me so much this week, I can’t even list them all. He has made phone calls for me and run errands that I didn’t have time to run. And through it all – through my moods, my ranting, my venting – he has listened and responded with a calm optimism that I can’t help but be influenced by, no matter how hard my stubborn self tries not to be. I’m a very, VERY lucky girl to have this man in my life. I hope he knows how much he is appreciated. I hope he knows what a wonderful boyfriend he is, and how loved he makes me feel.

Good job, Richard.

So, who do you need to thank? Who makes a difference in your world? Who needs some applause?

Now is the time.

***

“Appreciation is a wonderful thing: It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.”
-Voltaire

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: acting, appreciation, blog, daughter, family, friendship, gratitude, heart, inspiration, inspirational, kindness, love, motivation, motivational, performance, photos, Quotes, reinforcement, relationships, thank you, theatre, writing. Leave a comment

May. ’13

Titles

I have a confession to make.

I’m tired of running.

I’m not sure what’s going on here. Running has been my passion for the past year. It has gotten me through the tough times, proven to me that I’m tough, led me to a successful half marathon, and so on and so on. It has been such a defining part of my life for a while. For a year, I’ve a been a runner.

But here lately, amidst all of the other titles that have been bestowed upon me in my world, “runner” has slipped a little further down the list.

First of all, I’m in the middle of a move. As someone who has moved about 17.2 million times in her life (possibly a slight exaggeration there), you would think I would be an old pro at it. But nope. It still sucks. Who knew one small house could contain so much JUNK? Plus, I guess no matter how much you know how much better the end result will be, moving can always be a little sad. Leaving something behind always is. So, maybe that’s why I’m tired? I don’t know. So, yeah. Lately, my title of “mover” has bumped out “runner” for first place.

Another title that is inching up to the top is “car owner.” I’ve been in search of a car for over a month now, ever since my accident. I’ve been waiting and waiting for the insurance payments to go through so that I could proceed with getting another loan. Once that finally happened and I was able to get another car, something is wrong with it. Something minor, hopefully. And something that the dealership is taking care of. But in the meantime, I’m still driving a borrowed vehicle and remaining a burden while I wait. So, yes… the frustrated “car owner” title has bumped itself to the top of the list too.

And, of course, there’s “Mom.” The mom title is always at the top of the list, but for these past couple of weeks, it has been taking precedence. Having to get my little “Annie” to all of her play rehearsals is taking up quite a bit of time. (In addition to dance rehearsals and an all-day dance recital over the weekend to boot.) I wouldn’t trade it for the world, mind you. I’m extremely proud and honored to be the Mom of such a talented, active little go-getter. But it sure can be tiring. So, scootch on over, “runner,” “mom” needs some space.

“Writer.” Yep, that one is always there. While running is therapeutic for me, writing is too. And has been for a little longer than running has – pretty much all of my life, actually. When the stress gets overwhelming, running my fingers across the keyboard seems to relieve it just a tad. And it has been a little easier to find time to do that lately, than to find the time to run. So, “writer” bumps “runner” down a few notches as well.

Oh, how I could go on and on. So many titles are there fighting their way for first position. “Girlfriend;” “Daughter;” “Granddaughter;” “Friend;” “Words with Friends player” (Hey – you have your priorities, I have mine); “Employee;” “Bill payer;” “Actor;” etc. etc. etc. Sometimes, I guess it’s ok to understand that “runner” is still there…it’s just a little lost in the chaos.

So, maybe I’m just tired. And…maybe with all of the other stresses in my life, I might be just a tad bit irritable. Maybe. Oh, ok, I admit it. I’m irritable. And maybe – just maybe – I’m directing that irritation towards running and allowing it to slip down the list. I don’t know why I’m doing that. It’s not running’s fault. But I don’t really have to have a reason to be mad at it, do I? Ask my boyfriend Richard – “reasons” aren’t necessary when it comes to me being irritable. Maybe I just wanna be. *Arms crossed* *Pouty face*

*Sigh*

But, alas, just like other temporary irritations in my life – they’re just that. Temporary. I’ve been mad at Richard before, and we made it through. I’ve been mad at my kids before, and the feeling passed. I’ve been mad at my parents, at my siblings, at my friends. And yet, it always – always – works itself out. Why? Because love is stronger than any passing storm. Just like the love that I have for the people in my world, the love that I have for running will also endure. It will return. When the dust settles and the chaos clears, running will still be there waiting for me. For underneath it all, my title still stands. Untarnished.

I am a runner.

And I’ll be back.

***

“A woman under stress is not immediately concerned with finding solutions to her problems, but rather seeks relief by expressing herself and being understood.”
– John Gray

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: acting, blog, change, changed, chaos, family, friendship, inspiration, inspirational, love, motivation, motivational, passion, performance, photos, Quotes, relationships, runner, running, stress, titles, writing. Leave a comment

May. ’13

Griffins

“We could love and not be suckers. We could dream and not be losers. It was such a beautiful time. Everything was possible because we didn’t know anything yet.”
– Hilary Winston

I want to tell you a story.

This may just be for my own benefit, I don’t know. Most of the time I try to write in generalities so a variety of people can relate and possibly see themselves in my writings. And maybe even sometimes take something away from what I’ve said and apply it to their own lives. I hope I make a difference somehow by showing that we’re all alike in the ways that really matter. We all love, we all lose, we all fail, we all succeed…

But this time – this blog – might be a little different. This time, I may just be writing this one for myself. It’s a bit more specific. Because there’s a little something that makes me unique.

When I was a senior in high school, I lived in a foreign country and was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

I probably just lost a few readers right there. Who can identify with that? Probably not many of you. We all have unique stories, though, and I think they need to be told too. That’s what makes this world beautiful – a mixture of the varied stories from the vast array of people who inhabit it. Our collective little mess.

So this is my unique story.

This morning I was tagged in a video on Facebook. My old high school in Giessen, Germany has served its purpose and is now being torn down. Someone went there and took a short video of what was left of the building. And what was left of it was the gym.

(Photo credit: Celia Morrissey, Class of 1997)

The gym. Wow.

A flood of memories hit me as the videographer walked through that gym. And I want to tell you why.

My school was a tiny one. I graduated in 1996 with a class of about 21 students. Yep, you read that right. 21. Look at us. Wow.

So, as you can imagine, we were a pretty close-knit group of people. A family. And boy, were we a family of misfits! We had probably just about every example of nationality, religion, culture, ethnicity and race you could imagine. We were military kids. We knew one life – the life of goodbyes and hellos. The life of constant change, constant adaptation, constant acceptance. There was no time for prejudices or cliques or hierarchies that exist in a lot of high schools. For the most part, our parents made very similar salaries, we lived in almost identical housing, and were all trying to make it in a foreign country where our first language was everyone else’s second. We were the same in the ways that mattered to us at the time, and that blinded us to the ways that we were different.

At the beginning of my senior year, I found a lump on my neck. My uncle Jeff (who has since passed away) was very close to his sister, my mom, throughout his bout with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, so my mom recognized this symptom right away. In a flurry of doctor’s appointments and surgeries, it was concluded that I had cancer. This particular cancer is a blood cancer that affects the immune system. With my immunity weakened, I wasn’t allowed to attend school. So, for a little over four months out of my senior year, I was a no-show. I went through chemo and radiation. I lost my hair. I took my SATs in a secluded room away from everyone else. I missed playing varsity volleyball. I missed homecoming. I missed football games. I missed it all.

But I hardly even knew it.

Because I had so many people keeping me updated. It was like I was there. I had notes sent home to me from my friends (actual pieces of paper – not emails – remember those!?) filling me in on all the happenings at school. I got phone calls every night. I had brief individual visits from friends at home and at the hospital during the times my immunity was up and visitors were allowed. In a way, it was like I didn’t miss a thing.

And let me tell you about the day I was able to return to school.

I was terrified. A lot of people had not seen me yet. They hadn’t seen my wig. Or my puffy, swollen face from the chemo. They hadn’t heard my voice, or lack thereof, from the radiation on my chest and throat. Even though I knew they all loved me, I was still a 17-year-old girl filled with the fear that my appearance would somehow now determine how I was to be treated. Not only was I wrong, of course, but I walked into the front doors of the school to see a huge “Welcome Back, Melissa” banner strung across the front hallway, signed by pretty much everyone in the school. I’ll never forget that moment. Or many of the moments to follow. The support I got from that little family was overwhelming. I remember Ladel Scott hoisting me up and carrying me once when my legs were too weak to carry me up the steps to the second floor. I remember Luster Walker taking one look at my bruised and swollen hands from too many IVs, and saying that they were still the most beautiful hands he’d ever seen (just like he used to say before I was sick). I remember our English teacher, Gay Marek, taking one look at all the weight I had lost and promptly exclaiming, “No fair…you cheated.” 🙂 I remember my sweet boyfriend Nathaniel Angelus (who also had to grow up a little faster than most as he basically went through cancer treatments with me) carrying my books and walking me to classes and checking on me every second to make sure I was strong enough to get through the day…and once checking out and going to the hospital with me when I wasn’t.

I could go on and on. But I won’t. Because I want to get back to the point.

The gym.

The memory that stands out in my mind, and will always stand out in my mind until the day I leave this Earth, is the last day of my senior year. We had an assembly in the gym (oh, how many assemblies there were in that little gym…) for the end-of-the-year awards. The last award to be given was the annual “senior of the year” award. After battling cancer and still graduating with a 4.0 grade average that year, I was presented this award. As my name was called and I walked to the stage, the entire school rose to its feet and gave me a standing ovation. I can’t even type these words without the tears coming all over again. As that little 17-year-old bald girl looked across all of those smiling supportive faces of her peers, she somehow knew, even then, that this – this – was the stuff life was made of. At that moment, we knew nothing else. We didn’t know anything about bills or jobs or kids or divorce. All we knew was that we loved each other. And we were survivors. Each and every one of us.

I’m an adult now. I’ve lived many places and have seen many people come and go from my life. But I still hold a special, tender place in my heart for all of those people who shared my world in Giessen, Germany in 1996. Ours was a bond that will not be broken. We are Griffins. Our school may disappear, but our legacy continues. Like our mascot, we are part lion and part eagle. Our courage and strength will soar on.

Together.

***

“Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You’ll find what you need to furnish it – memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey.”
– Tad Williams