Underdogs and Hype

Yes, I'm a Spartan. Yes, yesterday was painful. But we must have hope and carry on....

I watched the game with a split crowd which is always fun.

I had a little spot on my State shirt so I covered it up with a pin my pops gave me. This isn't just any pin, though. It is an authentic 1960 Kennedy-Johnson pin. People were looking at me funny. "Who are you supporting in the election?" "Why, Kennedy and Johnson, of course." "Ummm....(confused)...okay."

I'm going to miss all the presidential hype when it's gone.

Just kidding. Soon enough, we'll be doing it all over again with two new grand candidates.

Awesome

Soooo....I called my sweet, little nephew last night and the conversation started like this.
"Hi, who is this?"
"Brad"
"Are you on the other line?"
"Yes."
"With who?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Because...(thinking)...I'm your aunt and I want to know."
"A friend."
"A girl type friend or a boy type friend?"
"Girl...but why does it matter?"
"Because...(thinking)...I wouldn't care if it were a boy."
"Ohhhh, I see."
This is the part where I realized how much my nephew has grown up.
"Bradley, do you have a minute to talk to me?"
"Sure!"
"Ummm...well...I know you do a lot for Boy Scout and stuff..."
"Uh-huh..."
"Well...how would you like to help me out on Thanksgiving because I'm going to serve meals down at the rescue mission in Lansing and I just thought we could do this together, you and I but you can think about it, you don't have to answer me...."
"Sure!"
"Wait, you don't have to tell me yes or give me an answer now..."
"Sounds awesome!"
"Are you sure? I mean, I just thought we would go for a couple of hours... I mean, what's a couple of hours and what do we really do on Thanksgiving? Sit around, eat, sleep...nothing. Sooo, if we go for awhile..."
"Wait, for how long?"
"Maybe from noon until 2 or 3 and then we can go eat our Thanksgiving dinner."
"Oh. Awesome! I mean, like you said, we'll just be sitting around anyway. Let's help."

I was stunned, proud, and happy because this little boy who isn't so little anymore, wants to help out. I love this kid. Sometimes, yeah, we get on each other's nerves but I do love him. He has come a long way from being spoiled (yes, I'm part of the guilty party) and he has a long way to go but his intentions are usually good. He is starting to realize the world does not center around him and for this, I'm grateful. Sometimes it's difficult watching someone grow up but in this case, the older he gets, the more fun we have.

Riverview Snob

I went to a different church on Sunday because I stayed the entire weekend in Walled Lake (huge deal for me). I met a couple in July who attend this church and had wanted to check it out. The coincidence is that the church is Ridgewood, a church planted by former members of Riverview.

Ridgewood holds the service in a nice community center. When I entered, I noticed people get a little bit more dressed up then at Riverview--not as many jeans. I noted the use of Macs, the coffee brewing, and they handouts for the message. Ahhhhh...just like home. But just before I sat down, a stocky, older man suddenly appeared. He welcomed me and introduced himself as Jeff Moore. "Ohhhh," I said. "my name is Holly and I usually attend Riverview." He was really excited and asked how things were going there. It felt good to have that common bond with someone I didn't know but had heard about.

After we finished talking, I sat down. A woman approached me with this permanent looking smile on her face. Warmly, she welcomed me and asked my name. I gave mine, went into the story of how I was named (she asked) and we laughed. Then she said her name was Noelle Carole. Hmmmm...born on Christmas? Yes, 5:05 a.m. More laughs. Then the music started and I was surprised. No lead male singer. No lead acoustic guitar. Just a bass, electric guitar, drums, keyboards and four female singers. Now, I wasn't exactly sitting in judgment but I tend to have an ear for these things from when I managed the Cameltoens. Politely--they needed more practice but they were still good, playing from the heart. I missed seeing Paul and Dan in the lead, though. I also missed the whole Riverview band--the 800 members whose names I don't even know but I'm used to. I quickly swallowed these thoughts, died to these thoughts and jumped into the message.

Jeff is so awesome. He really cracked me up. He wore a shirt and tie (can't wait to see my pastors in a shirt and tie) and followed the handout exactly. I noticed something else interesting. He wasn't exactly just teaching to a crowd. He spoke directly to people and they spoke directly back. It was almost like a conversation. I've always been amazed at how Riverview tries to still keep that level of intimacy with the sheep by calling on people by name, etc. I think Riverview does a good job of this, knowing a lot of the 1 million who go there. This church had the perfect environment for it. I liked it.

After the message, we sang again, a couple of songs I didn't know. This one woman singing on stage was just going to town in her dance moves and singing. You could tell she was really in love with Jesus. She was also the lead lady I guess because she was the one who led prayers. Her prayers were awesome. They were direct and hit the nail right on the head. She didn't do a lot of repeating and didn't use the normal "justs" "God" and "Lord" over and over. Example: God, I just want to ask you to just help us, Lord. Help us in living in this world, God and help us to just, connect with you, Lord.

Anyhow, she was really good. After the singing, Jeff talked about the small groups they had been breaking up into and that every member had an appointment to meet with their gift counselor to look at what spiritual gifts they possessed or areas they needed help. I thought that was pretty cool, too. After the service, I met Ron Windmiller and we spoke for awhile. He wanted to know if I thought I would ever come back. Definitely! But I explained how I couldn't really rip myself from Riverview. He laughed and said he completely understood.

Driving away, I thought about my church. I really missed it. I never, ever, ever thought I could feel this way about church: the people, the atmosphere, the music, the coffee I don't drink, the messages, and even my pastors. It all gets me to God and propels me through the week. Ahhhh....home.

Signs

I watched Signs last night with Krissie. She spent the whole time freaking out about the aliens. I spent the whole time thinking about how the movie wasn't about aliens at all.

The first time I saw it, really freaked me out. I saw it with the boys at the Star Southfield. Chris Buatti screamed like a baby when the alien walks into the ally so naturally, I have to laugh at that part now. There was also this woman who talked to the screen the entire time. "No you didn't!" "Don't you go in there!" "You best be gettin in the basement!" Slightly annoying but still funny. I think I just watched the movie as a film student. Critiquing it, ripping it apart, noting the balance of each shot and the likeness to Hitchcock. But it has become a whole new movie to me now, one of my favorites.

It is not about aliens. It is about our struggle with faith, with a God we never see, with a God who we don't always view as just. The first time I really thought about the movie differently was the second time I ever went to Riverview. I actually have a name for the second time I ever went to Riverview: the closing deal. I walked in the first time and was like, oh okay. Whatever. But the second time, this crazy guy came walking out with an Apple computer of all things. He talked about Christian faith, showed a clip from Signs, and had me tearing up to Johnny Cash's Hurt. What a cool church. The clip from Signs really made me think about how I view life, coincidence or fate?

Can it be some of both? I was humming a song from like 1994 the other day. I hopped in my car and hit scan....the song was on. Coincidence or God trying to make me smile and laugh with Him? Does God really have time for little inside jokes with me? I might be wrong but I think he does.

The end of the movie is the best. It really shows in a compressed sort of way, how we are given clues throughout our lives, how we are not alone. The little times we share with God, big times we share with God. It makes me just love Him so much. Signs is definitely a vehicle to get me to God. He is for us, He is with us.

I just want to say...

I luv my Dell. She has been very good to me. She will be even better to me when we get those $200 wireless speakers....

Squares

I went square dancing Friday night. Somehow, I missed out on this wonderful American pastime. We laughed, hysterically, all night long. This feeling kept coming over me, though. It was such an intense, yet peaceful, fun feeling. It was my grandparents.

My grandpa and grandma Beavers used to square dance ALL the time. My grandfather loved it. I even aquired his square dancing certificate and my grandmother's square dancing dress. I have seen the pictures of them, standing there smiling in their gear. I have the newspaper articles grandpa cut out, one was a picture of them in the massive crowd, twirling away. I thought about all this while I danced my little heart away. The feeling they must have had for the dancing, the amusement, each other...it filled me up almost to the point of tears. It was almost like being out on the golf course they built, surrounded my them, their dreams.

I made a decision to have a round of square dancing at my wedding reception someday. I do not care what anyone else thinks or says about it. Ed and Arlene will be honored with the dance and I want nothing more than to share a dance with my grandparents.

When people die, things get ugly...

I've noticed how manners quickly fly out the window when a loved one dies. I wonder why this is. I'm sure it is something simple but I don't understand it. I will try to explain what I mean.

My uncle and I had a conversation at the hospital a week before his mother died.
Me: I heard anyone can speak at Grandma's funeral.
Uncle: Yes.
Me: I would like to speak.
Uncle: Your name did come up as a speaker but really, Holly, I don't think you can do it.
Me: Ummmm (feelings getting hurt)....why not?
Uncle: (kind of an abrasive person): I think you would be too emotional.
Me: Well, I don't think you know me very well.
Uncle: That's true but I just don't think you are up to it (case closed).
Me: I sat with this woman until 3 am Friday night and 1 am last night. I'm up to it and I'm going to do it (case never closed).
Uncle: okay...if you think you can...but the pastor will need a copy of what you wrote in case you can't finish.
Me: (knowing I'm not giving the pastor anything before hand) Sure, whatever. Thank you for the opportunity (smile).

Now, my point is we have two people with two different agendas. Both of us wanted our way. I wasn't going to give in and this almost caused a problem. I couldn't see it at the time, however. Things got a little worse after Grandma died. The day before her viewing, I felt push back from several relatives wanting to know what I was going to say. It made me question whether I was doing the right thing or not. I almost backed out but I already had the thing written. I was going to go for it.

After I was finished, my uncle came to me and said, "wow, Holly. I'm impressed. I'm really impressed." "Thanks but really, I was inspired."

My point to this whole dumb post is that now Jeff's mom is dead and there are hurt feelings all over the place. Everyone has a different agenda about the funeral. Some don't want a big deal, some want the speeches, the videos, the photos, the church, the whole sha-bang. I wish everyone could win in these situations but people don't always get nicer in their grief. I guess the one good thing is the person who left it all behind. They don't have to stick around to see the hurt feelings and bitchiness. Its sad. Really sad.

I think the same can be said for weddings, too.

Ooooo...

From Snopes.com:

Many of the signs and billboards in the Orlando area were no match for Hurricane Charley. However, one billboard resisted the 100-mile per hour winds of the eye wall of the storm. While the billboard still stands, the advertisement that was there when Hurricane Charley hit was peeled back to reveal an earlier message. When the sun rose the next morning on Sand Lake Road in Orlando the words on the billboard clearly read:
WE NEED TO TALK
GOD.

Stuff

"But now times are rough and I've got too much stuff, Can't explain the likes of me..." ~Jimmy Buffett One Particular Harbor

Yes, I have way too much stuff. My roommate and I have a plan to reduce the amount of stuff we have by 25%. Of course, as soon as that stuff is gone, new stuff will most likely be bought. There is the big sale at the Limited this week...

How odd...

DSmit (Krissie's brother): G-d Damn It! The bed frame doesn't fit through the door.
Papa Smith (Krissie's dad; atheist): I have told you time and time again, don't swear.
Me: Wow...so...saying GD offends you? Even though you don't believe in Him?
Papa Smith: That's kind of weird isn't it...but swearing is swearing and only ignorant people swear because they can't think of a better word to use.
Me: Oh...now it makes so much sense.
(23 minutes later....)
Papa Smith: G-d Damn It!
Me: (Gasp) What did you just say???
Papa Smith (smiling): Nothing dear. Just dropped something on my toe is all.
Me: Is it broken?
Papa Smith: Don't think so.
Me: Thank GOD!
Papa Smith laughs.

My Sweet Lord

I'm sitting in Mr. Pita listening to My Sweet Lord by George Harrison...waiting for a co-worker or two to pass by and look at me funny...wondering if I care...wondering if I care about work at all. I feel a push, I've felt it for awhile now. Should I still be at Valassis? Should I still be in the Detroit area? I like it here but less and less. I look forward to going to Lansing every weekend. I dread going back to D-town on Sunday night. Still, I'm not going to make a move, yet. I'm going to stay put for at least a year or two, though in a year or two I plan on moving slightly closer...Kensington area, maybe. A place of my own maybe?

Dunno....

Memorial

My grandmother is gone. I'm not even sure where she, either. I really believed she was in heaven but now, I think maybe she doesn't go to heaven until we all go to heaven. I'm a little mixed up but will bring it up in my bible study tomorrow.

I read the following at her funeral:
"I knew my grandmother for only 28 and a half years—a small fraction of her life. After all, she was 65 when I was born. I think about all the years she lived and admit I can’t quite grasp it. I’ve been looking at old photos of Grandma and what I see is a young woman, younger than I am, married, standing with her first born and her fine-looking husband. She had her whole life ahead of her and most of us weren’t even a thought in her mind. She was a foxy young thing and loved to date. We all know the story about when she was dating one guy but another showed up to take her out. Emma stalled the guy at the door so Grandma could sneak out of the window to meet up with the other dude.

Of course, all of that was over the night she and her parents went to a dance. As the band played, she caught the eye of a certain saxophone player. She knew then he would be the one she wanted to spend her life with. And boom, we all entered the picture.

I remember the visits to the trailer. A few memories from when I was little and stayed with her were:
the little boxes of cereal
Hill-billy Bread
Bluebird OJ out of the little can
the lava lamp
her photo albums
riding in circles for hours with my tri-cycle in her garage
Cory and I playing with the doll clothes Grandma made us
Chipper
Going to the depot for Superman ice cream
And the giant picture of Jesus watching the United Nations building
I remember the way she would worry too much. If I went a hair too close to the road, if I drove a golf cart, if there was a strange car up at the clubhouse. Sometimes she freaked out.
But I also recall her our on her front porch, always waving good-bye to people as they drove away.

My view of grandma changed when I started working at the clubhouse in 1994. There was a different side to her, a saucy side. Yes, still a worrier but we began teasing each other. We would trade little witty remarks back and forth, she always outwitting me. I began to have fun with the lady.

The best thing for Grandma was moving to the Marquette. She didn’t seem to worry as much which allowed her to be more playful. She loved to pick on me with that big smile. I would say, “If you don’t be nice to me, I’m going to leave.” “You promise?” she would say. Sometimes when I would go to see her, I would knock on the door. Silence on the other side and then….a knock back. So I would knock again….silence….and then a knock back. Grandma, let me in!

She was worried about me, though. When are you going to get married? Who are you going to marry? I would tell her, you just want another party to go to, someplace you can dance. Again, that big smile would appear. Maybe you should get yourself a saxophone player like I did. A funny thing I noticed about Grandma was she would always ask you to repeat yourself and I know sometimes it was because she wanted to hear the joke or the compliment twice. She loved to flirt. I enjoyed my visits to the Marquette. We would visit for awhile, she would beg me to stay longer, give me a long hug and then wave to me from her window as I drove away.

I really envied her. She had so much fun in her last season of life. So much fun, she just kept extending that season over and over. She learned how to use the computer, how to e-mail, and how to IM people at 12:30 in the morning. She loved Bingo, cards… men. Yes, she found love, a couple times, and got herself a few boyfriends. But besides harassing Grandma, I loved to dance with grandma. I danced with her all night at Kami’s wedding and she was the last one on the dance floor at Cory’s. Couldn’t get her to go to bed. She didn’t dance much at Greg’s reception but I tried to get as many in as I could. Because as much as Grandma and I looked forward to the day when she could dance with me at my wedding, I feel like we both kind of knew it wasn’t going to happen.

A couple of Sundays ago, I went to see Grandma at Ingham Medical. “How you doing, Grandma?” “Fair,” was usually the reply but this time I got “tired.” She always teased me about my living arrangements. According to her I “move too much”. But now I had my chance to tease her. “Grandma, you keep moving on me! First Lansing General, then Sparrow, now here. Are you trying to lose me?” She smiled that big smile of hers, “Is it working?” Then, we discussed how our relationship had changed over the years. “You were kind of strict and mean, Grandma,” I teased her. She smiled, “Was I?” “Oh yeah, I like you a lot better now.” “You, too” she teased.

Looking at pictures and thinking back to this past year…yeah…it is hard for me to believe she is really gone. But don’t cry for her. Cry for the loss but not for her because I’ll admit, it is sad to see her go. I miss her a great deal and feel a void in my life. But she in experiencing the coolest thing ever. She gets to hang out with Jesus and God which is pretty awesome. So do not cry for her. Cry for your loss, but not for her.

I will honor my grandmother. I will share her with my children. I will show them that picture of her when she was twenty-something, having no idea where her life was going to take her. But I will also show them a picture of her when she was 92, so full of life and still living it as if she were 22. After all, when I asked her how old she was after her last birthday, she said, 29. I said, what are you dyslexic or something. She just smiled and said, well next year, I’ll be 39, and then 49, and then 59…she loved every age she lived. I ask that we all do this because it’s scary. It is difficult to embrace each season of life. I am also asking all of us to hold on to each other, after this day and not to drift apart. Our matriarch is gone but I beg all of us to get together as often as we can even if once or twice a year. Cherish each other as she cherished each one of us.

As for Grandma, it is safe to say she has gone home now. She is full of life again and she is sitting at a table in the biggest dance hall she has ever seen. The music is beginning to play, her feet are tapping in time, her eyes are wide and that big grin is on her face. Just as she gets to her feet, a certain saxophone player catches her eye. She smiles that big smile to him. Then she begins to say hello to all the people she had to say good-bye to so long ago, all of the people she once mourned will surround her in love. And we will get our chance someday when it is our turn to say hello to her again."

I feel like I kind of lied a little...about her being in heaven and all. It may not be a big deal to most but to me it is a huge deal. I need to get this somewhat figured out.

After the funeral, my three cousins, my uncle, Joey, my dad and my step-mom went out to the golf course. It was so much fun being out there, trying to soak up all that my grandparents built (and some I actually built!).

Ashes

Sunday afternoon--
Mom: I'm leaving for Alaska tomorrow at 5am.
Me: Yes, I know.
Mom: I know you don't want to talk about this right now but...
Me: What is it, mom (sounding slightly annoyed)?
Mom: well...if anything happens to me....
Me: ...yeah...?
Mom: Make sure the church (First Presbyterian) get these palm ashes in this tin for Palm Sunday.
Me: Are you kidding?
Mom: No...but there is more...
Me: What?
Mom: Make sure you take the bag of palm reeds to the church so they can be burned, too.
Me: So, this could potentially be our last conversation and it comes down to this...palms and ashes.
Mom: (in her cute way) Wellllll....I want to make sure they get them.
Me: Okay, Mom, when I hear you were eaten by a rabid penguin, I'll rush to your house, pass by the gazillion things in it, ignore the messages from the church demanding their palm ashes, and just drive this stuff over there. I can handle it.
Mom: Thank you.

Marriage

Sunday after church:
Lyndsay: Is God married?
Me: I don't think so.
L: But he has a son.
Me: But who is his son's mama?
L: Ummmm....Mary...but she was already married.
Me: Right so I don't think God is married.
L: But how do you know?
Me: I've never heard of him being married. Never read anything in the Bible about it.
L: Well, maybe he wants to keep his private life private.
Me: Maybe. I guess we'll find out someday. Could you imagine being married to God, though? You'd never have a fight!
L: You're confusing me now. Is he or isn't he married?
Me: Ask your Sunday School teacher.