Relationships

It’s GRATITUESDAY! A Guest Post “Saving a Life!”

It’s GRATITUESDAY today! Yes, I capitalized it, because I am extra grateful today. Two years ago, three people saved my son’s life. Rarely does a day pass that I don’t think about and feel thankful to them for being willing to help out a stranger. Thank you Michael Harrison, Rustin Crawford and Sarah Crawford for being Angels that day!!

Sarah wrote on her blog about the rescue. So in celebration, today’s post is Sarah Crawford’s words telling her story of saving my son’s life. It’s a great story, with a wonderful ending. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

From the Crawford Chronicles: Saving a life!

“Rustin and I were blessed to be at the right place at the right time to help save an unconscious man from a burning car on Saturday (March 26, 2011) evening at 5:00 pm. Rustin was driving (just got his permit) and we were headed to a lacrosse friends house. As soon as we turned from our street to the main street that runs through our neighborhood (Juniper) we saw a white car parked on the side of the road with a lot of white smoke coming from the hood and pouring over the car.

Another person (Michael Harrison, whose family I know well) had already stopped and had discovered that there was a person in the car who was unconscious. Rustin immediately pulled over and ran to help Michael pull the man out of the burning car. He did have to show me how to dial 911 on his phone really quick first! The call would not go through because all the lines were busy and so I ran to help Rustin and Michael who had the guy out of the car, but he was still laying on the street by the door. He was a very heavy (220 lbs) and floppy man and was extremely hard to move. Rustin said later that he was really glad he’d been in weightlifting class at school.  NO KIDDING!!!

Look how much bigger Jeremy (220 lbs) is than Rustin who is 5’10” and 150 lbs. The other rescuer was taller than Rustin but much skinnier and was happy to have Rustin’s muscles there to help!

We moved him to the side of the road behind the car, but didn’t stay there long as we were getting covered with smoke that was increasing in volume rapidly and had turned black as the car started to really catch fire. We hefted poor Jeremy (who was still totally out) and carried him to the other side of the road in the bike lane. We layed him there and rested a bit. His eyes were a little bit open but he couldn’t move or speak and looked really sick. I had no idea what was wrong with him, if he had inhaled enough smoke to pass out or had passed out before the car caught fire or what but I was very concerned and just rubbed his head and told him everything was going to be okay and prayed and prayed and prayed that it would be. After a bit, we decided to move him because the fire department was still not there and the fire was getting really big and hot and I could hear things exploding and popping inside the car and I thought it might blow up.

Fortunately, the car never blew up but it left a lot of ashes and debris behind after they towed it!

When Rustin and Mike and I and a few others moved him further down the road, he was starting to wake up and was actually moving his feet a little for us. As he started becoming more aware, he became anxious and tried to walk away from us, though he couldn’t really walk. There was no way we were going to let this potentially very sick individual wander off before the ambulance go there so we tried to wrestle him to the ground. It didn’t work. As you can see from the picture, he is a very big and VERY strong guy. Randy Harenberg, my husband, Russ- who Rustin had run and gotten, and others, tried to calm him down and keep him around while we waited for the fire trucks to arrive. They finally got there and… No, it wasn’t MY firemen, the Gilbert firetrucks were all out on calls and this was Mesa fire to the rescue.

Unfortunately, they had only heard that there was a car fire but not a victim in the car, so at first they just worked on getting the car fire out until finally a paramedic noticed my dad and I frantically waving at them to come help Jeremy. We told them what was going on and they soon found out how strong Jeremy was. It took several police officers and firemen to finally tackle Jeremy into the bushes and get some handcuffs on him to keep him down. Poor guy!!!! He kept asking for someone to help him and saying “Ow!” I felt so bad and just stayed close to try to offer any comfort I could.

After a while they got him some tranquilizers to sedate him a little and then got him on a stretcher. As he calmed down, he was more responsive and told them his name was Jeremy and that he suffered from seizures. They figured that the medicine on the front seat (that he had just picked up from Target) was his anti-seizure medication.

Rustin and I stayed and gave a statement to the police and gave them my number and asked them to call and let me know how Jeremy was doing and if they ever figure out just what had happened. They said they would try, but might not know themselves.

After Jeremy was safely on his way to the hospital, I took Rustin to his friend’s house and then zoomed home for a quick shower and some clothes (By the way- all of this was happening as I was wearing only a swimsuit and a sweatshirt! Put on clothes before you leave the house! You never know what might happen!!!) then I took off for the dinner and a meeting I was missing.

About 45 minutes after I got there, Russ texted me the most amazing text:

“The kid whose car burned was Kami Tilby’s son!” 

I can’t explain the emotion to know that poor Jeremy, who I had been praying over, was the son of one of my most favorite friends in the entire world. She has helped me in so many ways through every step of the last few insane and very difficult months of my life, starting before my sister Liza died, but especially since then. To have been able to help save her son’s life and bless hers forever in a very real way is such an honor. I am so grateful that Rustin and I were there to help him and her and her precious family!

So on Sunday night we got to meet our Jeremy!!!!

It turns out that Jeremy does indeed suffer from seizures and takes medication to control them. He had missed two days of medication and had just refilled his prescription and then visited his parents who live just a few houses from me. As he rounded the corner to Juniper, he felt the aura of a seizure coming on and knew he had to pull over and put the car into park. It took his body about 100 yards to be able to do that and he stopped about 20 yards before the main intersection at Val Vista! Phew!!!

Then he had a seizure and it is believed that he must have accidentally pushed down on the pedal and revved the engine so high that it overheated and caught fire. Sometime after that we arrived on scene.

He doesn’t remember being pulled from the car or being carried around but does vaguely remember the struggle on the ground with the police, and asking for help. He says it is foggy like a dream. Then he “woke up” in the hospital, not really sure why he was there and why he had grass (which was actually straw from one of the bushes) all over him.

He was so sweet when he met Rustin and I, reaching out for big bear hugs and saying “Thank you, Thank you!”

You are so welcome Jeremy!!!

So glad we could feel what it feels like to be an angel and be part of a miracle. That same day, Saturday, was the two month anniversary of Liza’s death and I had cried quite a few tears just a few hours before this happened. It was so nice to have things turn around and get to be part of such a happy ending for such a great person and family.

Maybe Liza was there helping too!

Maybe we were both angels that day?!”

The view from the driver’s seat- nice windsheild.  Getting worse…
The back seat! Can you see the toasted head rests from the front seats.
The right side of the car- Really toasted!!! From where we were standing we could see the huge flames shooting up through the windows. They did a lot of damage! Glad it was EMPTY!!!
Jeremy’s backpack that was on the back seat. Toasty! His ipod inside it was unharmed. PHEW!”
Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

Voila! Virtual and Real Made Clear

Virtual or Real?

Which do you choose most often?

I could share some definitions from a dictionary for you. Like so.

VIRTUAL

  • 1 almost or nearly as described, but not completely or according to strict definition:the virtual absence of border contr
  • 2  Computing not physically existing as such but made by software to appear to do so:virtual images

REAL

  • : of or relating to fixed, permanent, or immovable things (as lands or tenements)
  • 2a : not artificial, fraudulent, or illusory : genuine <real gold>;also : being precisely what the name implies <a realprofessional>
  • (1) : occurring or existing in actuality

Or I could show you this awesome video and you’ll get it immediately.

At the very least, you’ll laugh.

Finding a balance in life has never been easy. Seems for me lately the scales have tipped to one side too far. I’m working on a better equilibrium. I hope I don’t get caught with my pants down, (excuse the cliché’ but it fits, huh?)

If I remember my priorities that I wrote about here, then it’s easier to choose real when real is the best choice.

It isn’t easy. But it sure can be entertaining.

  • Real-ly? (thewestcoastline.wordpress.com)
Categories: Humor, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Clearing the Cache in My Brain and Wishing for Rain

I just need to say this…

You know that thing you do when your computer gets sluggish? Turn the whole thing off completely, then turn it back on. I think it’s called a hard reboot or maybe that’s clearing the cache.  Or maybe they’re the same thing or not at all related. I only know that if the computer or my smart phone behave badly, turning it off and then back on will often solve the problem.

I’m sorry If you’re a computer person and you’re cringing right now.

What I’m getting at is that humans need a process like that.

Actually, I think they do. It’s called sleep. Switch off for a few hours, ideally eight, and then restart. The human warms up and begins functioning as it should again.

sleep

sleep (Photo credit: Sean MacEntee)

The amount of sleep seems important, not just the off/on thing.

I’ve let my sleep take a hit the past couple of weeks. A little off the beginning, a little off the end most nights. And instead of eight hours, it’s more like six. Then a few five-hour nights and I get sluggishly slow in response times.

Add in a really short night’s sleep, say two or three hours, and bam. Sentences fall apart. New words get created that are gibberish. Driving isn’t recommended.

Even a nap just seems to aggravate things. I need two or three solid nights of uninterrupted slumber to get my groove back.

And another thing…

Virga, Valley, Mountains

Virga (Photo credit: sea turtle)

All day it’s looked like it wants to rain. That kind of teasing isn’t nice to do to desert dwellers. Give me sunshine, or possibly high, thin clouds, or actual rain splashing down from the sky onto the ground. But don’t do the gray sky, virga, smell of rain on the breeze thing. It raises our hopes.

Just saying.

And all this whininess is because…

Lonely Monkey Ape at Zoo

Lonely Monkey (Photo credit: epSos.de)

My cousin isn’t here anymore. And I miss her. Already. A Bunch.

Yup. It was a short visit. But we packed it full to the brim. Saturday felt like three days in one. Even today had a kind of time warp feel to it. Nice. She lifts my heart and makes life cheery and wonderful.

She’s getting on a plane any second here. So now I am feeling blue. It’s temporary. It’s that blue funk I’ve written about before. I’ll be okay.

I kind of need to wallow in it. Sorry to involve you. I’ll try to find a good joke, or story, or something fun for tomorrow.

To summarize…

  • Wish me happy dreams.
  • Pray for rain.
  • Feeling sorry for myself, but only for a little while.
Another Fun and Safety Guide

Another Fun and Safety Guide (Photo credit: Sam Howzit)

May the force be with you. Keep your hands and legs inside the ride at all times. Drive safely. Just say no to drugs. Call if you’re going to be late. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.  Have a nice day. And turn off the lights when you leave the room.

Categories: Mental Health, Relationships, Wondering | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Few Words to Remind Me

The elusive qualities of clarity and focus in life drive me crazy sometimes. My priorities get squidgy and mixed up all too often. How I spend my time doesn’t always reflect what’s really important in my life.Seems like I’m always searching for balance.

I have a few reminders around my home that, if I’m paying attention, can help me with my perspective, my priorities and my balance.

Sure the photos are a bit out of focus. I find that symbolic. That’s another reminder. You see, I’m not a photographer, but I am a writer. The words say more than the picture of the words do.

WelcomeIf you came to my home this is what you’d be greeted with at the front door. I want everyone who comes into my home to feel welcomed. I hope there’s a sense of open arms and relaxation when you walk through the door.

HugsI haven’t always been a demonstrative person. In fact, I still work on it. But I’ve learned the power of a sincere hug and have embraced (hahaha) the idea and practice of hugs.

KindnessOne of the most important qualities a person can possess is kindness. Helping out in small ways, sharing, paying attention to those around you, trying not to be judgmental. Kindness is a thousand little things that add up to something enormous and powerful.

FamilyIn a crisis where is the first place your thoughts race to? Family. The most basic instinct is to protect and love these people. And yet, sometimes, due to familiarity, selfishness, tiredness, or other reasons, they can be the ones we treat with the least amount of kindness and love.

laughterHere’s what gets me through many a tough spot. If I can see the humor in a stupid situation then I can get through it. If I can’t then I look for something to laugh about somewhere, anywhere. A good joke, a funny story, a hilarious picture. Laughter has magical powers to melt impenetrable walls, soften hearts and lift loads. A day without laughter is a rough one.

BlessingsWhen life gets to feeling too heavy it helps me to remember how blessed I am. Whether it’s a daily practice of writing down a few good things in my life, or a weekly practice of expressing gratitude, or daily prayers of thanks, it’s vital for me to pay attention to and acknowledge that my life is blessed beyond measure.  Those blessings take on so many forms, large and small, weird and wild, immediate and occasional.

LoveI am lucky to have tons of this in various forms in my days. I can’t even begin to list all the ways I feel loved and cared for. It’s phenomenal, it’s decadent, it’s more than one person ought to have. I hope I’m sharing as much as I’m getting. I hope you find love in abundance in your life, too.

JoyGiven all I’ve just shared, is it any wonder that I feel joy? Apparently it’s the central theme in my life. In spite of money struggles, health issues, car troubles, heaviness on my heart and worries about a zillion things, I still feel joy every single day. That is a miracle to me.

What are the words that surround your life, hang on your walls and fill your life? I’m curious to know. I might have missed a few important ones.

Categories: Family, Joy, Love, Relationships | Tags: , , , | 3 Comments

I’ve Seen that Smile Somewhere Before

I’ve been told on numerous occasions that I have a familiar face. I remind people of aunts, cousins, nieces, grandmothers, sisters, former bosses or secretaries, neighbors and co-workers. That could be a problem if I were in witness protection. I probably wouldn’t last very long.

Mildred C Youngberg (1920 - )

Mildred C Youngberg (1920 – ) (Photo credit: Robert of Fairfax)

I’ve had complete strangers walk up to me in restaurants and swear that I am their relation from years back. Am I sure my name isn’t Mildred? Yes, I’m sure. And have I ever lived in Scranton? No, I have never lived there. Dang. And they walk away shaking their head.

If someone is staring at me, I know it isn’t really me they’re seeing.  They’re probably trying to figure out why Aunt Matilda would be at a rest area in Wyoming when she hates driving and lives in Miami Beach.

With little kids it’s different. They just see a friendly face. I try to remember to smile at the ones strapped in a grocery cart. It’s fun to watch them notice that I’ve noticed them. Sometimes I’ll throw in a wink and they all but giggle with delight. It’s like we have a secret, just shared eye to eye. There’s an occasional nap-deprived grouchy kid, but mostly the response is delightful.

I think the familiar face thing I have going on has helped me get a job or two. So far, I haven’t ever had anyone say I remind them of someone they didn’t like. Maybe “nice” comes with a face like mine. I don’t know.

Kathy Bates

Kathy Bates (Photo credit: matteomerletto)

I’ve occasionally run across someone who seems familiar in an eerie way and decide they remind me of what I see in the mirror.  I’m not intrigued. I’m freaked out by it. I tend to run the opposite direction. Who’d want to have a conversation with themselves? Not me. No way. They’d probably think I was off my rocker if I told them they reminded me of me. Wouldn’t you?

No one really likes being stared at. It’s disconcerting. Feels a bit like someone’s casing the joint. If you see someone who seems familiar, try not to stare too much. It might be me you’re staring at.

I need to come up with some great responses, ready to go without any thinking about it, to the next few people who think I’m their great-aunt Martha. I’m not THAT old, for one thing.

What do you say to someone when they say they remind you of someone else? Has it ever happened to you? Now if someone said, “wow, you remind me of Kathy Bates,” I’d be totally flattered and say thank you. I’m sure no one ever goes up to Kathy Bates and says “hey, you remind me of this blogger I know, Kami Tilby. Ever read her stuff?” She’d just stare back at you like you’d had one too many drinks.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not a bothersome thing. Just weird. I suppose in the afterlife I could be one of those guardian angels that aren’t scary. Imagine the stories. “Yeah, I had this angel who looked just like Grandma show up just in the nick of time, saved my life.”

Until then, I suppose I’ll just be that familiar, friendly face in the crowd, across the restaurant, or in the car next to you at the stop light. Just smile and wave as if you know me. I’ll wave back. I’ll probably even give you a wink and a smile.

Categories: Relationships, Wondering | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

That’s the Power of Love (#1)

I was helping a friend out recently.  For her it was a major event, something that required a ton of elbow grease or buckets of money. The money wasn’t so much there, so the man hours kicked in big time. Word went out that she needed some help and there it was. The Power of Love!

I might add she was grateful to tears for all the help, in its various manifestations.

“You don’t need money, don’t take fame

Don’t need no credit card to ride this train.” 

–Huey Lewis and the News

The collective power of a few or many doing some work is an awe-inspiring thing to see in action.

Red Barn

Red Barn (Photo credit: Kathleen Cavalaro)

Reminds me of a barn raising. One small farmer and his family trying to get a barn built would take a season or more. But bring in the entire community, men and sons wielding saws and hammers, lifting framework, hefting beams, literally raising the roof and the thing gets built in a day. Add in the support network of children carrying water and supplies, women bringing and preparing food and there’s even time for a dance at the end of the day.

The resulting barn is the goal, but the real outcome t is a community strengthened and empowered by a common goal, by working together, by sharing. That, my friend, is the real power of love.

I know we don’t do barn raising any more, at least not around here, but there are myriad chances for sharing, working together and accomplishing a common goal.

“The power of love is a curious thing

Make a one man weep, make another man sing

Change a hawk to a little white dove

More than a feeling that’s the power of love”

The person being helped is not the only one who benefits in this equation. Not hardly!

Change happens

Volunteering to help someone out can change you. The process of giving up some of your time, offering some of your skill, or using your hands in the service of someone else creates something new in you. I know it does in me.

Of course, you have to pay attention to what season in life you’re at. Maybe your offering of love is smaller and requires less time than someone else’s offering. The important part isn’t what’s given, but why it’s given.

Your sharing may not be seen by anyone, including the one you’re sharing with. That’s okay. You’re really the only one who needs to know what gift you’ve given or how you’ve helped.

Need ideas for how you can be a mini-volunteer on your crazy, busy schedule? Here’s a tiny list.

Pray for someone.

Write a note of encouragement.

Leave an apple or a candy bar on a co-worker’s desk.

Do an unexpected chore or errand.

Send a happy quote by text.

Share a hug or pat someone on the shoulder.

Give a compliment.

Got a little more time to spare? Here’s a few more ideas:

Bake some cookies for someone who’s could use a lift.

Donate blood.

Sign up to help with a small project.

Help serve dinner at a homeless shelter.

Donate a bag or box of canned goods to a food pantry.

Do you have a full day a week  or once a month to help out?

Google “Volunteer followed by  your town or city “and stand back.

I googled “Volunteer Phoenix” and found docents, tutors, camp counselors, parks and rec needs, animal rescue, AmeriCorp, music therapy, pet therapy, educational outreach, literacy outreach, and that was just the first couple of hits.

There are always opportunities to help out. Sign up!

Say yes! Just one time, let the power of love take hold and see what happens.

“But you know what to do

When it gets hold of you

And with a little help from above

You feel the power of love

You feel the power of love

Can you feel it ?”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VkAVfsw5xSQ

Categories: Joy, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Where is the Grinch When He’s Really Needed?

I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day. Never have been. Not as a kid, not as a teen, not as an adult. Not even as a married person.

Nope. Not a fan.

It’s one of the areas in my life I’ve decided I’m just going to be cranky and annoyed about.

Sorry to burst your shiny red heart-shaped mylar balloon.

Those valentine mailboxes we decorated in elementary school with such high expectations? Always a letdown. While it seemed every other girl ended up with at least one or two surprises from a secret admirer or best friend, I only got the obligatory stack of valentines.

English: A glass of milk (left) and a glass of...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In fact, there were a couple of years the creepazoid boys that made my school life at recess miserable, took the Valentine’s day opportunity to make certain that I felt despised and pathetic. Boys that age have a talent for rude, mean, despicable behavior. (It might warm your heart to know that by high school I was on friendly terms with most of them. They became slightly human by then somehow.)

There was one year, fifth grade I think, that we had a contest for the best valentine mailbox. My dad helped me with this project and it turned out awesome! He found a tall three or four-foot box about the circumference of a shoebox. We turned it into a clown with a wide-open mouth for the mailbox opening. The crowning glory was a squishy red bulbous squeeze horn. Honk, honk! We took first place of course. The grand prize was a supersized Hershey’s chocolate bar. Sixteen ounces of pure heaven I kept hidden in a drawer in my bedroom and nibbled on for weeks.

That memory right there is the highlight of decades of Valentine’s Day celebrations.

As a married couple we attempted a few Valentine’s dates. We quickly discovered that night of all nights is the worst possible one for a date. Restaurants are overrun and rushed. Movies are packed and noisy. Traffic is silly. Dances are ridiculous. Flowers cost twice as much as normal. Leftover Christmas chocolates are stingily arranged in overpriced heart-shaped boxes. We don’t do Valentine’s. We choose to abstain from all celebrating of this silly holiday. Okay, we might exchange cards. But that’s it.

Sorry, I am the Valentine Grinch. Where is Dr. Seuss when you really need him?

CreativeTools.se - PackshotCreator - 3D printe...

(Photo credit: Creative Tools)

The perfect Valentine’s Day for me is in my own hands. It’s a product of my own making. I bake up a huge batch of buttery heart-shaped sugar cookies. Then I slather them with pink butter cream frosting, showering each one with multicolored sprinkles.  Easy. None of that magazine cover overachieving piped lacy design nonsense.

Pop a few of these cookies into your mouth and life just doesn’t get any better than that. The kids love them, MSH loves them. My friends, if I choose to share, love them.

At this very moment there’s plenty of ice-cold milk in the fridge. Butter and yogurt is out on the counter waiting for me to start mixing up the magic cookie dough.

Cookie heart

Cookie heart (Photo credit: summerbl4ck)

My Grincy valentine heart will soften as I mix and roll and cut and bake. All those old resentments will fade as the butter and powdered sugar and red dye whip together into a frothy cloud of pink deliciousness.

Love is in the air, and it smells like sugar cookies.

Happy Valentine’s Day if you’re a believer. Otherwise, enjoy something freshly baked and revel in every bite.

Categories: Food, Love, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Popping the Thought Bubbles and Inflating the Speech Balloons

Reading the comics, I’ve wondered what it would be like if we had actual thought bubbles and speech balloons hovering over us in real life. Imagine, all those unspoken thoughts we harbor, hide and simmer inside of us, out in the open for all to see! Wowser. Pink slips galore! Friendships ended! Marriages broken!  Or would it really be that way?

Talk

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I wonder if we allowed at least some of our thoughts to become speech balloons instead, thoughts made into words spoken, if it wouldn’t cure more ills than it creates. Instead of resentment, maybe there would be resolution. In place of anger, perhaps understanding. Hurt could be changed into healing, and maybe even loneliness could morph into community.

It could happen…

“When we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed.  But when we are silent, we are still afraid.  So it is better to speak “– Audre Lorde

Fear seems to dictate so many of our decisions, so much of what we do, where we go, how we are, who we choose to be.

Why?

Why do we let fear be the ruling emotion in our lives?

Can’t we choose to let joy, or love, or compassion or excitement be the main feeling we experience, the main emotion we focus on, the decisive straw that wins the vote?

I for one, feel life more fully when I allow my voice to be heard.  Even if I am the only one who hears what I have to say, at least I have said it, out loud, into the universe.

That, I think, is part of where the power of prayer comes from. As we give voice to the darkness and fear that’s within us, we diminish the potency of those things. Speaking the difficult things aloud opens up space inside and makes room for fresh air, hope, revelation, inspiration and joy. Vocalizing our concerns awakens possibilities within us.

A flower among cactus thorns.

A flower among cactus thorns.

The same is true when we address the positives in our life. Expressing gratitude, telling someone that we love or appreciate them, sharing a joke, even simply saying ‘hello’ broadens our possibilities and makes way for more good stuff.

I don’t have any research to back up what I’m saying. Only one life’s experience and observation tell me these things. I made the choice years ago to open my mouth, which then opened my heart and opened my world.

I decided to bloom, right where I was, cactus and thorns be damned. The hurt will happen anyway, silent or speaking, quiet or singing, forlorn or joyful. Bloom! That is the best choice. It has been the best choice for me.

Categories: Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Electric Love

It’s Gratituesday! Today I am grateful for one of the most brilliant gifts I ever received.  You can’t imagine how surprised I was several years ago to unwrap a twin-sized electric blanket as one of my Christmas gifts from MSH.  We have a king-sized bed. A twin-size anything made no sense.  But then it did.

Master Suite - King Size Bed with Jungle View

The vast expanse of a King Size Bed! (Photo credit: Grand Velas Riviera Maya)

The blue fluffy wire-lined blanket fit perfectly on my half of the bed. I discovered that very night the wisdom of such a gift.

MSH slumbers in a well chilled, open windowed bedroom, fresh air pouring over his overheated, restless body. For good measure he runs the ceiling fan as well.  In such an environment I can only toss and turn and freeze, no matter how many blankets get heaped on top of me.  But now, ah yes, now with my gift of electric heated bliss, I can choose to have the warmth of a cat snuggling up to me, or I can bask in the heat of a Sahara summer, or any climate in between.

This isn’t a winter only gift.  Oh, no not at all. It is after all Phoenix, complete with heat islands and asphalt. Summers here are a sweltering desert. To survive we have air conditioning everywhere.

(Except for my car, usually the AC goes out on the first day of July.  Not sure why.  The infamous Tilby family car curse? But, I digress, that is another post.)

Unlike most households, we don’t just bring the temperature down to cool. MSH chills the house to the point that we all wear sweaters inside, except him. It’s comfortable for MSH and that is important.  We love him and want him comfy, too. At night, the thermostat gets set even lower.  As a result, my electric blanket often gets used in the summertime as well. Ah, sweet slumber.

I do think the electric blanket saved our marriage. Or at least it keeps me from finding another room to sleep in. Which would have made MSH feel sad and lonely, which would make me sad.  His inspired gift to me makes me love him even more, and reminds me nightly of his consistent thoughtfulness in so many other ways.

All hail the lowly blue blanket, plugged in and enhancing relationships a few precious degrees at a time.

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

The Magic of a Dusty Country Road

Dirt road

Dirt road (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Bouncing in the passenger seat of the dual wheel truck, dust billowing behind us, I rest my arm out the window, letting the leaves and bushes tickle my hand as we drive past.  If we were driving faster it would hurt to do this, but the ruts and rocks of this particular stretch of dirt road keep our speed at a minimum.  The truck eases right into the bushes and we slow even more as we make room for a jeep coming down the road toward us.  As that cloud of dust draws closer my father raises his left hand and waves at the jeep. A man with a cowboy hat lifts his hand in response as the two vehicles ease past each other.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“Don’t know,” replies my dad.

“But you waved at them,” I venture.

“Yup,” he says.

“So if you don’t know that man, why did you wave to him?” I push.

“Cuz, that’s what you do out in the country.” He punctuates the sentence in a way I know means that’s the end of this conversation. Not abrupt, not angry, just “that’s all there is to say about that,” communicated in an inflection, a tone or a breath.

A few minutes later, a truck lumbers past us, he waves, they wave, and I ask. “Who was that?”

“Don’t know,” he responds.

“But…”

“Yup, that’s what we do out here,” he says with a relaxed twang to his voice.

The fifteen mile road we bump along that day provided several more similar scenes.  As we emerged on the asphalt and headed toward home I dangled my hand out the window to ride the slipstream of air that blew past. I felt the temperature rise as we s-curved our way down the mountain pass.  I sighed as the scent in the air changed from pine to scrub oak, and from scrub oak to suburb.

We drove past many cars once we reached the main roads of our town and never did my dad raise a hand in a hello. I didn’t ask. When we reached our neighborhood, he wave once, twice. Then we pulled into the driveway and I hopped out of the truck.

Country roads were a staple in my life, for a variety of reasons, camping, canoeing, checking on the beehives my dad had stashed in various places, breakfast picnics, a day at the reservoir, or simply to go for a drive. Often my siblings came along, sometimes the whole family, occasionally just me.  Always the same ritual of waving to strangers happened. Sometimes he even talked to strangers. “Anything biting?” he might ask a man with a fishing pole. Or “Howdy!” he might say to a couple of kids walking in the dusty dunes of tire tracks.

The Pacific Northwest Trail

The Pacific Northwest Trail (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

All those roads taught me a kind of etiquette that isn’t in books. Out in the country, on back roads, on hiking trails, lakeside, or mid-river, there is an unspoken understanding. There is a camaraderie in solitary places, in nature, that temporarily suspends the walls we erect in ordinary places. There is permission granted in green open spaces that lets us, encourages us even, to be friendly, to be kind, to be more than ourselves.

To pass someone on a hiking trail and not say “hello” or “good morning” is unthinkable for me.   Brief eye contact seems like a given as well. At the very least, a nod of the head or a smile is a must. Conversation is optional, but allowed.

Similar behavior at a shopping mall, in the grocery store, walking down the sidewalk, gets you weird looks and feels completely off the mark.

I haven’t analyzed this too much. Just noticed it. Seems there are many unspoken rules that are difficult to explain, but make sense just the same.

One thing is clear to me. I need to travel fewer paved roads, and I need more dust clouds in my rearview mirror.

I’m drawn to the outdoors by the beauty and serenity of it all. There is energy and peace found in nature that nothing else can match. I wonder if maybe part of the attraction is also the relaxing of barriers, the lowering of the defenses, the slightly more open connection with other human beings.

Categories: Family, Memory Lane, Outdoors, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

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