It seems like just yesterday I was thinking how many months I had to gear up for the opening of the Old Church Gallery in Cedar River.  I vow every year to not procrastinate – I WILL use the winter months to stock up and not wait until the last minute to do all the tagging and inventorying…

Fail.

Again.

I have to just accept that I work best under pressure and deadlines.  Even though I dislike pressure and deadlines when it comes to creating. 

Maybe there are just not enough hours in the day, weeks in the months or years in the life.  There is always a to-do list a mile long, and even though my jewelry business is important to me, it isn’t the only thing in my life.  I have children, a family, a career, friends…they all get neglected.  And they are the important things!  Housework, grocery shopping, cleaning and the other “less important” (to me) things get neglected even more.

So for now I will experience the pressure of deadlines and running behind.  It’s just the way things are.

I can live with it!

I thought I would be a world traveller one day.  I had a great start – I had some great experiences  before I left high school and just knew I would be travel savvy and would see the world.

I was wrong.

Once I started working full time, travel was expensive and I didn’t do as much as I would have liked.  Then, after I got married to a man who didn’t like travel and wouldn’t fly, my travelling slowed to a near standstill.  Add to that the fact we were always broke, and you have the picture of our no-travel life.

Now I’m a single mom.  I have done more travelling in the past 3 years than I had done in the previous 17.  But it was with my brothers’ family, or I drove to a family members home out-of-town, or took a child to a band competition…pretty tame travel stuff.

Now I have a wonderful job that is beginning to require travel.  I haven’t flown in an airplane since 1988!  I am excited and scared – so much has changed.  I can’t really remember any big deal with airport security in the past, but I know it’s a big deal now.  I wouldn’t even know how to find my way around an airport…but I will learn.  It’s scary, but I feel like God is giving me a second chance to be the person I once thought I might be.

I want to love travel again. I want to know other places and see things I haven’t seen and have adventures!  Other adventures than day-to-day life as a single mom, that is!

I have 3 – possibly 4 – business trips planned before now and the fall.  If you see a panicked, middle-aged woman in an airport holding up traffic and sweating profusely…give her a break!

This stuff is…heavenly.

This fabulous new oil from Orofluido is a new favorite.  The smell is a wonderful blend of vanilla and amber that makes my knees weak when I smell it – which is often!

There are a lot of oils coming out on the market, and they are all good, but this one has my vote.  I’m not the only one who thinks so – it was recently given 5 out of 5 stars by Hair Magazine testers.

As for me, I don’t use it only in my hair.  I use it on my elbows, feet and hands, too.  The stuff smells so good I use it anywhere on my body where I would normally use lotion.  Sometimes I just rub some on my neck during the day because I love the scent!  I use it on my hands during the day and it doesn’t leave them greasy – it soaks in quickly and leaves my skin soft and smooth.

Ask your stylist about Orofluido – one sniff and you’ll be hooked like I am.

For Emo…

June 4, 2010

I’ve never written about her.  I don’t talk about it much.  But today I got overwhelmed with some things I need to tell the world about someone who was my best friend.  Someone who I just clicked with when we met – one of those special someones that you know with absolute certainty will change your life.  I would have done anything for this woman, she was that special.

Emo had Cystic Fibrosis.  I had heard little snippets of whispers about her while growing up.  “She’s the one that’s dying.”  We went to separate high schools, but we still live in a fairly small town, and I knew who she was.  And that she was “dying.”  Knowing more beyond that happened later, when the overlapping of friends brought about getting to know each other.  The first phone call turned into a baring of souls and the beginning of a deep, deep friendship.

Emo was NOT dying.  She was living.  Every minute of every day she experienced.  She was the most genuinely funny person I had ever met.  God, we laughed.  Loudly, obnoxiously and often. There was very little she wasn’t up for, which was intoxicating.  She was also stunningly beautiful, which made her thrill-seeking all the more hilarious.  Nothing like seeing someone who looked like a Vogue model chewing tobacco!!  Or cussing like a trucker.  But somehow it was never tacky or vulgar on her – she was just enchanting and daring and courageous and fun.  She was the best.  She wanted to try it all and experience it all and enjoy it all. 

Emo died on May 18th, 1992 at 31 years of age.  The disease she had had since she was a few months old had finally claimed her.  I will never be the same.  You can’t lose someone like her and ever get over it totally.  She was one of a kind.  But my mom said it best when she told me that most people never get to have a friend like her in their whole life – and I had her for 12 years. And I got to say goodbye and tell her I loved her..again, something a lot of people never get the chance to do.

My daughter is named Emily after her.  I tell my children all the time how much she would have loved them.  She would have adored them because they are unique and special, just like she was.  I wish she was here to experience them, because she would have been such a marvelous inspiration to them.  And they would have loved her, too.  I feel bad that they never got to know her.  I feel bad for anyone who didn’t get to know her.

Two weeks to the day after Emo died I lost my first child to a miscarriage in the 14th week of pregnancy.  After just losing Emo, I didn’t know how I could ever survive.  But I did – my daughter Emily came a year later, and somehow the vision of Emo holding my baby in Heaven healed me.  Emo had desperately wanted a family but was not healthy enough, so it offered great comfort to me that I could give Emo what she had wanted – a child – and I had the comfort of knowing she and the baby we named Jordan would be waiting for me when I got to Heaven.  Two years later I had another late miscarriage and Emo’s family grew as mine grew.  Now we each have two children, which somehow feels right, even though I feel such loss in their daily presence in my life. 

I wish I never lost sight of the perspective I had when she was alive.  When she was alive and for years after she was gone I would constantly run through my head “Emo wouldn’t care about an extra 10 pounds if she had healthy lungs…Emo would survive a broken heart and flourish if she had a healthy body…”  when something went wrong. I lived better then – I lived like I was “dying” also, because I had the gift of her perspective on life to give me perspective on mine.  I really miss that, and it is harder to hold on to now that she’s gone.

I have really felt her absence since my divorce.  She would have helped so much.  She would have cried with me and then kicked my butt around for feeling sorry for myself too long.  She would have dragged me back into life.  She would have eventually made life into a grand adventure again.

Today I started thinking about the story “I Am Third” about Gayle Sayers and Brian Piccolo. Gayle Sayers lost his best friend and gave this tearjerking speech about how God was First, Brian Piccolo was Second, and “I Am Third.”   When that came into my mind today, I started to cry because I had never made a speech like that about Emo.  And I’m not famous, with national television cameras pointed at me.  But we do have the Internet now, and I do have this blog.  Today I needed to write about her.  I feel like I want to write more about her – get all the stories down before I forget them and they are gone forever.  I want other people to get to know Emo and for her never to be forgotten.

The girl who was not “dying,” but who was living.

I miss you, Em.  So much.

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