About two months ago, Zach’s grandma (on his dad’s side) was given a few days to six months to live.  She was sent home with hospice care and to be surrounded by those who loved her.

A few weeks later, with her only sister and son by her side, she took her last breath.  

Dorothy was an amazing woman.  One I wish I had lived closer to so that I could have known her better and learned from her wisdom.

Dorothy had many brothers and only one younger sister.  She was married once and had two children, one who died almost seven years to the day before Dorothy.  She had four grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.  The youngest, Isaac, will never get to meet her.  Dorothy loved to travel when she was younger, and was the keeper of all information.  She was witty and fun.  

I’m very sad she never met Isaac.  

I’m sad that the last time we saw her was almost two years ago.  

I’m sad that we hadn’t talked to her in months.

I’m thankful that I did meet her.

I’m thankful that she was such a saver of stuff, that we have stories for years to share and learn of together.

I don’t think I have the words to describe what an amazing person she was, but I wanted a her to have a place in my blog.  I place where some day my kids will read about there great-grandma and know what a truly awesome, loving, strong, kindhearted, witty person she’d been.



I’ve been meaning to post this for quite some time, when I told Zach what I was going to do he said I better hurry or it’s going to be old news.  Well, I’m pretty sure it already is old news, but I still wanted to post.

About twoish weeks ago….

Isaac was going through an “I only sleep two to three hours at a time” spell (turned out to be his first tooth!)  Anyway, he woke up around three and Zach went and got him and brought him to our bed so I could nurse him.  I don’t generally go back to sleep, but nurse Isaac and then move him back to his bed.  Well, on this particular night Zach didn’t have a chance to even get back to sleep before we started hearing noises outside.

We live on a corner and our bedroom has windows that face both streets, so it’s not unusual for us to hear things.  Although most of the time it’s pretty quiet around here.

It was a lot of talking and “shooting.”  I could tell there were some pelt guns going off as the neighbor behind and one house over uses a pelt gun almost daily.  Isaac was nursing so I couldn’t really go investigate, but suddenly Zach was wide awake and wanted to know what was going on, so he opened the front blinds and looked out.

Sure enough, a car of “teenagers” had pulled in front of our driveway, stopped and gotten out to “shoot” at some people up the street.  They weren’t there long, but as they got into the car, they thought it would be a good idea to shoot our house up a bit.  Man did it make me mad, but what was I going to do?  Call the cops and say some kids shot my house with pelt guns and they were in a black four door car?  No license plate or discription of the people….plus Zach didn’t have his glasses on.

We are pretty sure it is the same kids that went running through the neighborhood one afternoon last summer with pelt guns shooting each other and hiding behind trees and cars.  OOOOoooooo….it just makes me mad.  Who thinks it is okay to go running around a neighborhood (day or night) with guns???  I don’t care what kind!


I tend to think too much.  I  worry about the future, but most of this worry is because I feel so blessed in life and I see others around me struggling.  It doesn’t seem fair.

I have a house.  A good job.  A new car.  Two dogs. TVs. Computers. Cable. Internet.  Plenty of food.  A beautiful son.  An amazing husband.  Who has a great job.  A car. Blah. Blah. Blah.

We don’t have a lot of friends.  Most of the people we classify as friends are from his “old life” or my “old life.”  You know those lives you live before you get married.  Before you have kids.  We do have a few close friends and then some other friends that we see somewhat regularly – we aren’t hermits by any means.  And while this bothers me a bit, it mainly because I’m a social person – I like to see people and interact.  But really I don’t care because I have my best friend with me everyday.

Before I met Zach I was a slightly different person.  I was quiet, introverted, shy, self-conscience, book smart, but not so street smart.  I spent way too much time worried about what others thought of me.

Enter Zach…while I still tend to harbor a lot of these traits, especially around people who knew me “before,” around Zach I’ve always been me.  I can ask the stupid questions about things instead of pretending I know what’s going on.  I can sing as loud as I want in the car and not be asked to be quiet.  I can dance, something I could never do.  I can chill on the couch and just talk, I don’t have to be busy doing something.  I can say words wrong, and even though I get corrected, I know there is no judgement.  I can keep up with every person under the face of the sun and have no questions to answer.  I can share my fears, my dreams.  I’m just me including every flaw.

Zach and I have a great relationship.  I LOVE being around him.  It drives me crazy when I know he is doing something I could be apart of (ie, if he goes to the store on the way home) or if he is home and I’m away.  I remember a few months ago, when Isaac was first born, Isaac was asleep and we needed to drive my mom home.  In the past we would have done this together and it didn’t dawn on me right away that we wouldn’t be doing it together.  Oh, right, someone has to stay home with the sleeping baby.  We shop for groceries together, we run errands together….unless we are working, we are generally together.  This works wonderfully for me, as I don’t seem to need that much alone time, but when we first got married, this drove Zach crazy.  He is very fond of time spent by himself (maybe because he was an only child for 13 +ish years).  I’ve learned to let Zach have time here and there and since he is a night owl and I’m typically in bed by 10, he gets a few hours there, but the bottom line is we like to be together.

Sometimes I wonder if this is healthy.  Shouldn’t we have other friends…girl time, guy time, alone time.  Maybe.  But I don’t think it’s necessarily unhealthy.  I mean it’s not like we are the same person.  We both have very strong opinions and ideas and strengths and weaknesses and likes and dislikes.  In fact, maybe that is part of the fun in being around each other…seeing and hearing another perspective.  And, you’d think that with all this time we spend together there’d be a lot of fighting, getting on each others nerves, right?  Nope.  We rarely fight, although I do find that most of our fights are really the same fight…funny how that happens.

If you’ve stuck with me this long, you know I love my husband and I cherish our life together.  I can’t imagine life any other way.

But then the worry…I watch TV, I read books, I follow the lives of “friends” and sometimes I wonder where we will be in 10 years, 20 years.  Will we still love being around each other?  What if one of us got sick, really sick, would the other one stand firm?  What about our children?  Will they be happy and healthy and love us?

I used to worry about gas prices.  It was actually much more than that, but it all stemmed from there.  I had a lot of anxiety.  I remember Zach and I were reading the Bible together every night and every night there was a little nudge from God about not worrying and then one day I was just able to let it go.  I wish I could find the verse that really resonated with me, (it was somewhere in the old testament, hows that? 🙂 ) but I guess God always has ways of getting to our hearts.  Maybe for me, it was just getting it out on “paper.”