Friends

Been thinking a lot about friends lately.

What makes a good friend? Is it loyalty? Honesty? Communication? Accountability? A connection? Amount of time spent together? Is there one thing in particular that brings the two people together, or does it take a mixture of these things?

Why do I have the friends I have in my life? Have I chosen them to be in my life, or has it just happened without much effort? Am I the type of person I'd like to be friends with? What can I do to be a better friend? These are just some of the questions I've been wondering about as I think about friendship.

I am here in MD, still without a good connection or community, and I long for some good girlfriends. Ones that I can call up and chat away with about anything and nothing. Ones that I can see each week. Ones that I can drop Jak off with and not worry about him being with someone I don't know too well.

I just need a good friend, or two.

I want to laugh. I want to create memories. I want to be able to say "I'm going over to so-and-so's house, be back in a bit!" I want to have a buddy. Want to be a buddy.

Please pray for me if you are so inclined, that God would bring me a good friend to share life with.

Enver

I met him in high school, while we both worked at Wegmans. I was 16, he was 17. We would talk while we worked, and once he got transferred to Produce and I to Bulk Foods, we had to go out of our way to talk to each other. At one point it became obvious that I was going out of my way more and more, even though I tried to be non-chalant about it.

Being non-chalant only worked for so long. It was April, and my birthday was approaching. Me, being the flirt that I was, decided to act. While he was filling watermelons I told him that my birthday was coming up, and that I was pretty excited about it. After what seemed like 5 hours went by, I finally dropped the great question I'd been practicing on for a week. I sweetly asked him where he was going to take me for it! His response was better than I imagined! He smiled coyly, and asked where I'd like to go!

That birthday was one of the best I had during my teenage years.

In fact, that spring/summer was the kind that every young kid dreams about and every adult looks back on, wishing they would've savored it more.

Enver went to college later that year, and we eventually broke up. We tried many times unsuccessfully to rekindle what we had, but life went on and our paths grew further and further apart.

We kept in touch through the years, and I visited him twice in RI. I finally got to meet his Mom, and younger sister Maggie. He and his other sister Lisa showed me around Newport one weekend in 2000, and he promised that he'd come to Buffalo one more time to visit the old stomping grounds.

Enver died last year. He was 29.

I read about the horrible car crash he was in. The mangeled mess of metal didn't look at all like it was once a car, and the yellow crime scene tape sent shivers down my spine. He and his girlfriend were thrown from the car, and were pronounced DOA.

My first reaction was disbelief. He was only 29, and still had a lot of life left to live. Surely he wasn't DEAD! I hadn't had a chance to call him, to see how he was, to tell him about the baby coming in the fall. I thought of his Mom, and how she must be feeling. He was her rock, and I could not bear to think of what she had just gone through.

I wrestled with the appropriate response. I was a married woman now, and had commited my life to Jeff. Was it OK to grieve for an ex-boyfriend? Was it OK to cry and mourn the loss of youth and memories and life?

It wasn't until Jeff called me that day that I was able to finally cry. I felt comfortable enough and safe enough in my husband's presence that I could grieve however I needed to. I cried for his Mom, I cried for his sisters, I cried for myself. I remembered our times together, the sweet young love that we experienced. I cried for his life lost, cried for his girlfriend's life, too. I cried for the unfairness of it all.

Today would've been Enver's 30th birthday. Next month will be one year since his death.

Enver always used to say that I changed him for the better. That he was a better person because of meeting, then dating me. I'm certain that I can say the same. He taught me many things. He taught me about self-respect. He taught me to hold my head up high, even when the cards are stacked against me. He taught me about unconditional love. He taught me about forgiveness, and showed me tenderly what that looked like, when I was most undeserving of it.

Our time spent together was sweet, precious. I'll carry it with me always.

Tiny In The Grass

The video of Jak in the grass is from last Sunday in Annapolis. We were there with friends and took a break on the lawn of the State Capital Building. This was the first or second week that he was moving well on his tummy.

The video titled Jak's Breakdance Crawl was from this past Sunday, before his bath. He was all riled up and having the time of his life! This was the third video we shot of him "crawling" from one point of his room to the hallway. He was quite tired at this point, but was still going strong!

July 4th, 2007

Happy Independence Day!

I'm not gonna wax poetic about how I feel about America, or the reasons why I love living here. Not today anyway. I'm tired and not feeling particularly dramatic.

Today we spent the day relaxing. We did a bit of shopping, too. I really do hate how all of the stores and gas stations are open on holidays and Sundays, but I suppose I can't complain all that much since I sometimes contribute to the reason they're open.

Anyhow, we got home somewhat early and put Tiny to bed, and got ready to watch a movie.

Not at all how I would've imagined us spending the first July 4th as a family! No fireworks, no picnics, minimal thinking about the sacrifices that have made our country free. Just more of the regular day-to-day living. Kinda sad I suppose, but just because I'm not overtly grateful on the day, doesn't mean I'm not grateful.

There are fireworks going on all around us and so far Jak is still sleeping. There's a victory!

Maybe next summer we will be enjoying the fireworks as a family on a picnic blanket somewhere, with our little man running around. Or, maybe we'll be sitting here watching a movie again, cringing as each bang goes off. Either way, I hope it'll be another good, regular 'ol 4th.

Funny

Ha! I just reread the post before The Right Way, and I noticed that I signed off saying that I was going to mop the floor. It only took me a mere 6 days to do it...can you tell I hate mopping???

Cleaning The Right Way

I hate mopping. Hate it. It hurts my back. And mopping doesn't clean the floor too well anyway, so you essentially waste your time, because sooner or later, you're going to have to go back and do it The Right Way. On your trusty hands and knees.

We were raised to clean a house The Right Way, all the time. Because a clean house is, well, clean! Every Saturday morning Mom would wake me up and tell me what needed to be done (my goodie-two-shoes sister was usually already up and done with her chores by then). Not that I needed telling, it was the same thing week to week. But I'm sure that was Mom's way of making sure I got things done. You know, sort of a covert supervision thing.

As we got older, and Mom probably got sick of spending the better half of Saturday's cleaning the house, we were supposed to do our chores on Fridays. Not sure why on Fridays, because everyone would be home for the weekend and the house would need cleaning again by Monday. But that's how she ran her house. In my house, the cleaning gets done on Mondays.

Except today is Thursday.

Nonetheless, today is the first day I've been able to actually clean the house without boxes being all over the place! Plus, I have guests coming this weekend. Which leads me to the mopping.

In a normal move, I'd come in and clean the entire house, top to bottom, before we moved our things in. I couldn't do that this time around for various reasons, so I did what needed to be done as I could get to it. Jak keeps me pretty occupied, so exactly a month later, I'm finally getting to wash the floors for the first time. Yay and yuck at the same time.

We bought a new mop the day before we moved in. It broke the first time I attempted to use it. Mind you, that was the first mop I think I ever bought. Hands and knees, remember? We took that mop back and bought a new one. This one is still intact but I want to break it. I hate it! Any mop is only going to swish the dirt around, not really pick it up. And years and years later, the little girl who hated cleaning The Right Way understands why The Right Way is important...I know Mom would be happy.

Wasting my time? Sorta. Until I can get a good chunk of time to wash the floor The Right Way, the mopping will have to do. It's better than nothing, and at the very least, I will go to bed for the first time in a long time, with clean feet.

Bored

Jak is at his grandparent's house this weekend so that I can finish setting up our house. And what am I doing? Sitting here reading blogs.

I miss my little guy!

It's kinda like when Jeff and I were first married. I waited all this time to live with Jeff day in and day out, just going about our normal lives together. But that first time he went away I felt lost! It was just my cat and I, and my whole schedule was out of whack.

This is no different. Little man isn't here and so I can sleep in (if my body would let me), eat when I want, read, do whatever whenever, and all I'm doing is finding myself walking around in circles, wondering what he's up to, and what I should do next.

This is silly. I think I'll go mop the floor. Boring, but needs to be done.

New Beginnings in Fairy Tale Land

We finally have a place to call our very own. Praise the Lord!!!

We moved to Queenstown, MD, at the end of May, and have been setting up home ever since. I was looking back on old blogs--missing the time I had to write so much and still hoping I can get back into it--and in one of them I posted that we'd love to have a house like we did back in OP.

Strange how things come into play if you just wait long enough. Not that said waiting was easy.

Our home here is wonderful. It's a two bedroom, old farmhouse. It has a beautiful back yard, nice and big and fenced in for little Jak to play in. The living room is nice and big, and the kitchen is gourmet, along w/ the bathrooms. What more could I ask for? This place is great.

We live right on the Chesapeake Bay, and the town that we're in is a quaint, historic place where one person described it by saying "they roll up the sidewalks at 6pm." The first couple of days we were here, every neighbor who was out stopped by to welcome us and told us we'd love it here. So far, they were right, but we knew that we'd love it before we moved it. It's just very us.

I walk each day to the PO to get our mail, and down the street from that is a small cafe. There's a park with a great playgound, and it's partially shaded which I like. There are kayaks in every backyard, including ours, and I'm sure once Jeff and I try that, there'll be a nice big, funny blog about it. There are plenty of young parents here, as well as middle-agers who've already offered to babysit. Everyone watches out for everyone else; it's just the sense of community that I was longing for.

The second day we were here, we drove to the cafe to have a dinner date before picking up Jak. People waved all along the way and as we sat in the street wondering where else to go (it's closed after 4pm) there were birds chirping, flowers moving in the breeze, and a little bunny chomping on the grass in front of the cafe. It felt so perfect, so odd that everything seemed completely harmonious here. I said "I feel like we live in Fairytale Land." Jeff agreed. So far, we do.