We arrived in Cincinnati this afternoon after a very speedy 7 hour trip. I don't necessarily mean speedy as in my actual miles per hour (though Larry would say that's EXACTLY what I mean), but I mean the speed with which the day went by. Adam was granted permission to watch the entire "Lord of the Rings" trilogy (I figured 16 hours in the car was a good reason to let him - especially since he's reading the book). We hooked up the car radio speakers to the laptop and plugged the first movie in. I got to hear everything, even if I couldn't see it. It MORE than helped pass the time. In fact, the first time Adam asked how long we'd been traveling, we were both shocked to realize it had already been FIVE hours.

We arrived at Aunt Gladys' empty apartment. Larry, Bill and Geoff had gone with Aunt Gladys to discuss the final arrangements for LH's funeral Wednesday. Adam and I walked in to wait. It was the first time I'd ever been to Cincinnati to visit, so their home was new to me. I immediately went to the restroom (it was looong trip) and as I washed my hands, I teared up. On the small counter above the sink were several packs of hearing aid batteries, belonging to LH. I can hear the high pitched squeal of his hearing aid, and him turning it down, only to turn it back up a few minutes later because he couldn't hear ANYTHING.

Such a simple thing - I guess I thought that the moment I walked in I'd be overwhelmed with emotion. When I didn't get hit with the wave I'd expected, I relaxed a bit. When I saw those batteries, it was almost too much. The simple things that remind me of LH were the things I would miss, and the things that I'd always remember. LH wasn't a terribly complicated man - he didn't overwhelm you with theology (though he could hold his own) or long explanations about the whys and wherefores of what he thought. Love God. Love your neighbor. Done. End of discussion. Sure, there were other things in his life that were important, but those were the biggies. Such simplicity.

I walked around their apartment, sad, but okay - seeing the things I was expecting. I saw loads of books that belonged to LH. His office. Pictures of him. His office supplies. His chair. Lots of things that reminded me of him, but nothing that brought me to tears like the batteries had a few moments before.

Then I saw things I DIDN'T expect - and those made me the saddest. His Clemson belt, hanging on a hook. I think he had that belt on every time I saw him. Shoes, in neat rows, with those wooden shoe things inside them to help keep shape (what ARE those things called?), my dad's paintings hung in his office (knowing how much he loved those). Hearing Geoff tell about how he stood in for his dad on a number of phone conversations, ending with LH's trademark, "God love you" goodbye (again, so simple, and SO important). Hearing Geoff begin supper - of course a casserole dropped off by a friend - and saying the Wesley blessing: "Be present at our table, Lord. Be here and everywhere adored" (a blessing I've heard a zillion times since birth at Mayfield family meals). Nothing really spectacular, nothing terribly remarkable. Nothing complicated. Nothing difficult. Everything him.

I'm thinking it's going to be a rough couple of days. The church has apparently gone all out. There are more than 30 choir members singing for a Wednesday mid-morning service. I think they're ending with the Hallelujah chorus, oddly appropriate for LH's arrival into Heaven - his thoughts, that "Hallelujah! I am HOME!"

Adam, by the way, has been awesome. Larry's goddaughter (who's about 10) is around too, so he's got a buddy. They happily played Nintendo and we are taking her with us to the Cincinnati Zoo tomorrow. He's hugged on Gladys (and is almost as tall as she is) and loved on the older cousins. He's expressed sympathy appropriately, and has told his own (however limited) LH memories. He's loving the one-on-one time with Mom, even though it's all because of a sad event.

I'm overwhelmed, tired, sad, happy. I guess with a life as long and as full as LH's, it's only natural that at his passing I'd be overflowing with emotions, both good and bad. I've struggled all day to make sense of what I'm feeling. But sometimes there aren't words to express what I'm thinking, feeling. It's too big, too complicated, too messy, too much. It takes a lot to put a label on things sometimes. Sometimes, though, it DOESN'T take a scholar to say what's inside. Sometimes, it's not much at all.

God love you, LH.

This is my dad's side of the family, July 4 a few years ago. LH and Gladys are the heads - they're on the left, he on the front row in the red sweater, she on his left. Finishing out the front row: Larry (in glasses, their son), Jeannie (in flag sweatshirt, daughter), Polly (my stepmom), Dad (LH's nephew), Geoff kneeling in front with hat (third child). We all went to California for a semi-reunion. The only ones missing are my sister and her family and my cousin Amanda (Larry's daughter). WHAT an amazing picture.

Got the word late Sunday night that Uncle LH had had a stroke. LH is the brother of my grandmother, who died 5 years ago. There were 4 siblings - 3 girls (my grandmother, Aunt Lib and Aunt Agnes) and Uncle LH. He's the only one left.

He's a Methodist minister who has sort of been the family's go-to guy with anything religious. He married my parents, baptized me and my sister, married me, buried my mother, baptized my son.

He was planning on baptizing Andrew too, but at the last minute needed to go to California for his granddaughter's father-in-law's funeral. He was MOST apologetic, calling to tell me that at 90 he just couldn't do a baptism on Sunday in South Carolina, and a funeral in California on Monday. Um... REALLY? :) I mean, I'm not sure how many people can do that - coast to coast in 24 hours. And he was 90 at the time!!!! So I have a beautiful handwritten note to Andrew, that tells him what baptism means, and how blessed he is to be in our family.And honestly, now - that almost means more than him actually baptizing Andrew. I have his words, in his handwriting - and that can never be replaced.

My dad's father died early in my dad's life, and LH became Dad's stand-in dad. Dad went to Cincinnati a lot to spend summers and visit. LH has been instrumental in Dad's life, and thus mine. LH wrote a book about how to seek God's comfort in times of trouble, and gave us all copies (autographed, of course). LH has been sort of a cornerstone for our family. He has always been such a picture of faith, of worship. He shows, not just tells, about how to trust, REALLY trust God with your life. His quiet yet strong demeanor has always amazed me.

When Aunt Lib died, Uncle LH came to perform the funeral. Lib had arthritis for most of her life, walked with a walker or canes, braces on her legs, and had had both knees replaced (which she would show you in about 2 seconds flat - she was so proud!). As LH was ending his part of the service, and had been speaking for several minutes, he commented on how Lib never felt trapped by her physical limitations, how she had always put others before herself, how she had always sought to worship God in everything she did. He paused, smiled, and said "A few years ago there was a movie about a little boy in leg braces." I immediately teared up, knowing where he was going with this. He explained how the little boy had always struggled to walk, but at one point as he began to run and find his stride, the braces fell off as his running intensified. (Of course, he was talking about Forrest Gump.) He smiled, looked down at the casket in front of him, and said, "I can see her up there now. (big pause) Run Lib, run." Of course, I absolutely lost it. But that's LH - able to say the ONE thing that will sum it up in such a way that no other words are necessary. He truly has a gift.

I haven't seen LH in a couple of years. I've talked to him, but he lives in Cincinnati and we just don't cross paths. The last time I saw him was at his daughter Jeanie's funeral. She passed away unexpectedly and I went to California as the family representative. I have always admired LH's peace and composure. And as LH got up to speak at his own daughter's funeral, I was amazed at how calm he seemed. He joked about he and Aunt Gladys deciding it was time for children and nine months later they had Jeannie. He talked with such confidence about how she was with God. Then, he punched and kicked the air in his one show of anger at losing a child so soon. Then apologized. That one show of not-so-positive emotion was so completely out of character for him - I just wanted to run up and hug him, give him the chance to be the comforted instead of the comforter, as he has for 98 years.

And now he's had a stroke. He was playing golf on Friday! Sunday afternoon he had a stroke, the second in 13 months. He's been moved out of ICU, and per his request, all meds and feeding have been stopped. Of course, I'm praying for a full recovery. He's done it before. He's one of the strongest men I've ever met. But it seems unlikely. And that's okay too. It's time for him to go home. It's time for him to rest.

It just won't be the same world without him.

Outside my window... I'm hearing a lawn mower and thinking I should probably mow my grass too.

I am thinking... that a nap sounds SO much better than mowing grass.

I am thankful for... the fact that the boys LOVE to read.

From the kitchen... not a thing. Really. Nothing. Though I really need to clean out the pantry and the fridge.

I am wearing... tshirt and capris.

I am creating... a game plan for the weeks ahead.

I am going... to Papa's for supper with the fam.

I am reading... The Naturally Clean Home, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and a budgeting book.

I am hoping... that I get a nap today.

I am hearing... Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone on tv (little bit of noise while I blog and look up some things online).

Around the house... boys have new books that they're excited about reading (Adam's reading Lord of the Rings, Andrew has a new book from The Open Book) and they're piled up on the couch, no tv on, happy as clams. When I said "No TV" they actually said "YAY!"

One of my favorite things... Nick's iced tea.

A few plans for the rest of the week... swim team banquet tomorrow night. Visit from Scott. Harry Potter in theaters Thursday. Looking for an easy week now that swim team is over.

Maybe NOW the summer projects begin???

What a great way to get a quick snapshot of what's happening in my life...



Outside my window... I'm outside. At the pool. Where I love to be.

I am thinking... that I'd really love to be IN the sun, but I'm happy under the fans.

I am thankful for... my big ol' iced coffee.

From the kitchen... nothing right now! But its SUPER clean.

I am wearing... bathing suit and cover up. My second favorite pair of flip flops.

I am creating... a game plan for the afternoon that will hopefully yield a clean sun room and a new tv room for the boys.

I am going... to Chick-Fil-A for lunch! YUM!

I am reading... about Gov. Sanford's excursion to South America and how I'm really amazed at the nerve.

I am hoping... that I am able to show others about God's love by my actions, not always just my words.

I am hearing... a conversation between two dear friends as they embark on a new phase of their relationship and I'm praying for happiness for them.

Around the house... the same as always - chores to be done, things to be cleaned. But I'm really motivated and excited to see the final result.

One of my favorite things... time by the pool with friends.

A few plans for the rest of the week... cleaning today. Boys out tonight with their dad. I may go to a friend's house. I may play Guitar Hero. I may scrapbook. The possiblities are almost endless.

TODAY June 23st, 2009

Outside my window... I bet it's really hot. Summer in SC.

I am thinking... about how much I really need to clean my house and how happy I'll be when its done.

I am thankful for... second chances and forgiveness.

From the kitchen... great coffee.

I am wearing... my night shirt soon to be my bathing suit.

I am creating... nothing - and that NEEDS TO CHANGE.

I am going... to let go of the guilt I'm feeling about pool issues.

I am reading... The Red Tent.

I am hoping... that the boys will stop yelling and clean up the upstairs. And even more, realize that they have a truly wonderful life and they'll stop feeling so sorry for themselves when there is work to be done.

I am hearing... Frasier, the laundry, bumping around upstairs.

Around the house... laundry to be done, trash to be taken out, dishes to put in the dishwasher, a pantry to be cleaned... and peace. Somewhere, there is peace.

One of my favorite things... coffee.

A few plans for the rest of the week... supper at the pool tonight, supper for belated Father's Day celebration tomorrow, swim meet Thursday. After that, I'm blissfully unaware.

So it's been more than a month, as it was pointed out to me today. To the three of you reading, sorry.

Life throws curveballs. And fast balls. Not so many slow balls. Not a ton of the ones that are easy to hit. I got thrown a fast curveball this week, and it's freaking me out a bit. I'm not sure if I should step up to the plate, walk, take the strikeout or what.

I'm sort of tired of things being difficult. I'm tired of no easy answers. Complicated things tend to follow me around. Do I complicate simple things or are there truly no easy answers? Do I overthink? Am I one of those people that can't ever have an issue without MAKING it an issue? I don't THINK I am, but you never know.

All I do know is this. Right now I will step up to the plate, and one of two things is going to happen. One, I'll strike out. Strike out miserably, with everyone watching. I won't get CLOSE to getting a bat on the ball.

Or, I'll hit it out of the park. And the Home Run will be sweeter than it would've been if it had been a slow pitch.

I'm not always the sharpest knife in the drawer. It sometimes takes a while for me to get things.

I have struggled with my faith on and off for years. I know where I need to be, I know where I should be. I know how hard it is for me to depend on God, rather than myself. I get in a groove, think I have a handle on life, then things spiral out of control. When I finally get my butt to church and LISTEN, there is always always ALWAYS something I needed to hear at that EXACT moment.

Like this morning. I was going to go teach at 9 like always. But Doug took the kids last night so I thought I'd sleep in a bit and then clean the house. I woke at 715, and thought maybe I'd go to church anyway but not to teach. Then I fell back asleep, woke up, fell asleep, woke up, and so on. Finally at 9 I thought to myself that I was too late for the 9:00 service, but I didn't want to go to 11. Decided to go to the 10:00 service at the Handlebar. Good thing I did. The sermon was ALL ABOUT ME and exactly where I am right now. The music was all about me, the service was all about me. I even sat almost entirely alone, as if the whole thing was orchestrated for me.

As I said, sometimes I need a sledgehammer to hit me over the head a few times before I get the point. Thankfully God is patient. And repetitive.