Fairytales

Sometimes I feel like I’m living in one. Honestly, as my pregnancy progresses, I realize that to many women out there, it probably seems that way, and I can see why they would think that. I’ve got the handsome prince, the life, the home, the animals *grins*, and even a less than pleasant stepmother. My prince slays each and every dragon that comes along without ever asking for anything in return which just makes me love him all the more. Our fairytale is modern tho. We had bad rentals, crummy jobs, lots of time with no money, disapproving mothers, and way too many siblings instead of evil queens or angry wizards to face. The trials were along these lines with a few curve balls like the prince constantly being out of town for work and a ghost from the princess’ past who wanted to replace the handsome prince and used all his wiles to seduce her away. They worked through all these things and were stronger for the battles they fought together.

Now we are expecting the successor to our throne- the first prince or princess of our very own and my handsome man has become even more amazing than ever. I’m talking working a full day, washing dishes on his lunch break, cooking dinner when he gets home, cleaning the house, sleeping on the couch with our new puppy (did I mention someone gave us a mastiff puppy?) last night so I could get a full night’s sleep for the first time this week. When I came out at 1 in the morning to find him asleep on the couch, puppy curled up on his chest and kissed him good night, his first words were, ‘hey beautiful’. I seriously don’t know how I could be more in love with this man, my sweet prince, and yet each day I find I am.

As Valentine’s day draws close and I think about all the traditional gifts women expect, I realize that this year, the only thing I want is more of this. More time with my husband, more time to be thankful for him, a way to give back to him and try to show him just how much he means to me. I’m ashamed to think of all the times I’ve been disappointed because he rarely buys me  flowers without hints and outright requests. My birthday is a hard one for him too because it falls exactly one week after Christmas when we’re broke and worn out from the other holidays. He never forgets it, but usually can’t make it to the store to get a present with all the other things he has to juggle. That really used to bother me, but when I stop and think about all the gifts he gives me each and every day of the year, I realize I’ve got the best present of all and I don’t have to wait til my birthday to open it. Coming home to a clean house after being sent to the fabric store to ‘buy something for myself’, his assistance in taking care of our animals without any complaints even when they’re just about the only responsibility I have any more. His wonderful understanding of my insanity as a hormonal pregnant woman and the way he caters to my every need. I couldn’t ask for more and I’m so thankful for everything I have.

I’m going to wrap this up now- the tears and snot are flowing freely because this is a very emotional subject for me, but I wanted to dedicate a special post to my wonderful man.

In Remembrance

6 years ago give or take a few days, my aunt Marti lost the battle with cancer that had been raging in her body for just a short year and a half. She found out about it in early 2001 about a week before her mother’s death. The cancer was removed, but somehow it snuck past the doctors and moved into her brain and set up camp there in an area where its malignant tumors were inoperable. So my aunt who had always been active and kind of an angel to everyone was confined to her bed. When her hair fell out, her husband shaved his head so they could have the same hair cut. He kept her laughing and for that we were grateful. My mom and I went and spent a long weekend with her in June of 2002 singing and joking about old times. She was my mom’s little sister and since they were only about 2 years apart, they were pretty close. The youngest of 8 they tended to stick together as they became adults. When I was growing up there were two aunts who had made the move here to Missouri and Marti was one of them. She taught me to make pillows for my Barbies and had the most awesome Super Mario games for the Nintendo. She let me turn her swingset slide into a water slide and put up with countless hours Carmen SanDiego on the computer. She was the aunt that I only hope to be and tho she never had any children, (her first husband convinced her to get a hysterectomy at a very young age) she was wonderful with us. We stayed with her when my mom had a nervous breakdown and she made it less scary that my mom was in the hospital for two weeks. When she died there was a service held in Osage Beach where she had lived, but a couple weeks later there was another one held for all the family in California in one of the towns where she and my mom grew up. I was out there visiting my mom and so I went. My mom had written a song for her and we sang it at the memorial. Then my aunt’s ashes were scattered over the Pacific Ocean at Pacific Grove. It was a rough couple of days where I tried to be happy that she wasn’t hurting any more but was home with her lord. At 16 thats hard. At 22 I miss her more than ever and I know my mom does too. What I took away from this tho was to love those who are still around as if tomorrow might not get here. Lives are often cut short well before we’re ready to let someone go so I try to make the best of the time I have. I know this post rambles and is long, but its hard to stop the memories.

Light a Candle by Frieda Bacon

Light a candle to remember me 

No more sorrow

All is as it should be

Open your eyes

Open your eyes

I am living on in the skies

Light a candle to remember me

Stand and bear witness

Love is my legacy

Open your arms

Open your arms

I am living on in your hearts

Oh how lovely to be with you here

My sweet reunion

All my loved ones are near

Look to the flame

Look to the flame

I am dancing on just the same

Look to the flame

Look to the flame

I am dancing on just the same