Musician’s Widow

Believe it or not, Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays. To those who think its just a “Hallmark Holiday” I say, “Bah humbug.” I’ve liked Valentine’s Day since I was a kid. I liked Valentine’s Day when I was single. I like Valentine’s Day now that I am married.

Me and my husband -- Valentine's 2010

I remember that in Kindergarten, on Valentine’s Day my parents gave me a card/book with cherry heart lollipops. I honestly wish I still had that book! I can’t tell you anything about the story any more, but I remember getting my teacher to read it to the class that day. (Come to think about it now, I think I’ve always liked to “share with the class.” Hence blogging.)

The other day, I asked my niece if she was looking forward to her Valentine’s Day party at school. If she’d get lots of cards from her classmates. Her response was, “Like always.” I had to laugh to myself. I miss those little cards! I always liked the many ways “Denise” could be spelled, and there was something nice about having all your classmates have to think of you for a minute in the form of those little cards.

In high school, Valentine’s Day 1997, I attended my first concert ever. Bryan White — whom I admit I had a huge crush on at that time — was playing in Waco, TX. A girl friend and I had floor seats for the show, and I jokingly would say I had a date with Bryan for the night. It was an amazing night, and I have to say it was definitely THE night my life focus changed from being small-town Texas girl for life and setting my sights on Music City and the music business.

College days came and so did an “ok-ness” with being single. I had great Valentine’s in high school, but being single and NOT having roses in the office waiting for me all four years? Was almost worse than being picked last for dodge ball in elementary school. However, in college, there wasn’t the pressure or finger pointing of “single” or “dating” that there was before.

An excerpt from my LiveJournal on Feb. 14, 2002:

I am so content and happy with my singleness. I don’t need a man to validate me as a person or anything. I am me. I like me. Yeah, maybe it is “Singles Awareness Day”. Fine by me! I am aware I am single. And I’m okay with that.

I have the bestest friends. In real life and on the net. You guys just keep me grinning like mad. Most of you I’ve only know for a few months, but already you’ve helped me through some rough times. You’ve laughed with me. You’ve cried with me. You’ve done more than was necessary. I love you all from the bottom of my heart. How I got so lucky to get to know you, I’ll never know. Nor will I question it. I am just thankful for each and every one of you. Happy Valentine’s to you…

In 2003, I wrecked my truck the day before Valentine’s Day, and in 2004 I got my belly button pierced. You can’t say I don’t have eventful Valentine’s Days sometimes!

Three years after celebrating my singleness, on Valentine’s Day 2005, my now-husband and I said “I love you” for the first time. Quit dancing around it and said it. At least we picked an easy day to remember!

Now married three years, but due to work, my husband and I have only spent the last two Valentine’s Days together. And that’s okay… doesn’t make the day any less special. I know we should tell those we love that we do love them every chance you get. But there’s something nice about having a day set aside to really focus on that fact. To tell everyone — our “significant others,” our families, our friends — that we love them. That we care about them. That we are glad they are in our lives.

To everyone who reads this… Happy Valentine’s Day. May you love and be loved deeply.

(By the way, to those who think this holiday was created to sell cards, history tells us it was celebrated as far back as the Middle Ages… long before Hallmark cards. So. PBTHTHTHTHTHTH)

Family -- Christmas 2009

Last Christmas, I wrote about there being “No price to the holidays.” This year, it felt like all I saw leading up to Christmas was dollar signs… the cost of living had me down in the dumps and stressed. It seemed like we were on this strange teeter-totter; once I’d be up, something would come out of no where to bring me back down.

Then… we began our trip towards family and a much-needed reprieve from everyday life. And, frankly, our bad luck followed us. In little ways — slamming my finger in a car door, my husband spilling hot coffee on himself — bad luck began to become funny. My attitude began to change, and I began to see the humor in almost every situation.

I also began reminiscing.

See, I’ve started this Christmas blog entry at least ten times in my mind over the course of the last two weeks. A dozen different angles. Hundreds of little stories and memories. All of which so precious. All of which deserve an entry to themselves.

My nephew made a video for a class project, and he gave us all a copy of it. “What Christmas means to me” is a gift I’m going to cherish forever… he did a great job on it, and as I sit here it makes me think… what would I say if I did such a project.

At around his age (ok, maybe more around my niece’s age), my answer would consist of stories about going to Grandma’s house with the whole family. It would talk about our “Christmas Program” in which the family gathered in the living room to sing songs, recite poems and read Christmas stories. I’d talk about Happy Birthday Baby Jesus cake, family photos, and lighting candles on the tree in order of grandchild’s age.

I’d talk about Children’s mass at church on Christmas Eve, where I’d sing in the children’s choir and Mom and my brother would be in the adult choir — complete with songs in Czech! I’d talk about how I never got to carry any of the main pieces of the nativity in during procession. Always either a donkey or a cow… no offense to the animals, but as a child you want Jesus, Mary or Joseph… or an angel… or at least a shepherd!

Finally, I would talk about Christmas morning and the wide-eyed wonder of Santa having come leave gifts over night. There were Barbies and Baby-Sitter’s Club Books. Board games and new jeans. Living in Texas, it wasn’t unusual to be warm enough to go outside and play in the afternoon. Or perhaps we’d go visit my Grandpa in Bryan.

Christmas would mean to me family, church, good food, and presents.

Today, my entry would look slightly different. So far, my husband and I have alternated Christmases with each other’s families. One year in Oregon, the next year in Texas. While both families have their own traditions, some things remain the same no matter where you are or how old you are… Christmas is still all about family, celebrating Jesus’ birth, good food, and presents — though today I am more into giving than receiving… Not that I don’t like receiving (new camera and an A&M Snuggie for the WIN!)… haha!

Ultimately, we should keep Christmas in our hearts year around. Its simply a magical time of year if only you’ll let it be so. Its a time of peace. Its a time of joy. Its a time of love. Its a time of hope. Its a time of faith…

Christmas means all these things to me.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas (or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate)… May the joy of this season carry us into the new year.

There’s a saying about Aggies and Aggieland: From the outside looking in, you can never understand it. From the inside looking out, you can never explain it. That’s precisely what makes this blog so very hard to write. Because if you aren’t an Aggie, you probably will never truly understand.

Ten years ago, I was a freshman in college. I’d opted to attend Temple College for two years before transferring to Texas A&M University, despite having being accepted at TAMU. So, when I say Bonfire collapsed my freshman year, I have to give you that little bit of disclaimer. As I was not there to watch the Bonfire being built prior to that fateful night. I would, however, occasionally check in on a live webcam someone had set up to document the growing stack.

I had made plans with my best friend since Kindergarten who was already at TAMU to attend Bonfire with her, and then go to the big game: University of Texas vs. Texas A&M. I was more excited about it than I could possibly ever tell you.

I still remember, though, how numb I felt when my mom told me that Bonfire had collapsed and that there were fatalities. I had classes that day, and I went on to school. I tuned in to KAGG 96.1 FM… Aggie 96… all the way to school, and I sat listening to the reports in my truck prior to going to class.

Eight days before, I’d come far too close to losing my own brother in an auto accident. And here I was listening to reports of my Aggie family having lost members, and I felt the sharp ache in my heart.

Me & Lindsey at the game in 1999

A week later, I went to the candlelight memorial at the site of stack, the night it was supposed to burn. We made the trek over to Kyle Field, where a video of a previous Bonfire burning was being shown on the jumbotron. I will never forget how quiet it got, nor the way groups huddled together for comfort. I will never forget the feeling of unity. The way everyone leaned on one another, not afraid to show the hurt, sadness and weakness that permeated everyone’s souls.

The next day, we went and witnessed “The 12 Man’s Finest Hour” when the Aggies took the win over the Longhorns: 20 – 16. I also witnessed one of Texas’ most classy moments as well: when the Longhorn band held Texas A&M flags and performed “Amazing Grace.”

Bonfire’s collapse had not only affected Aggies, but it had brought in an outpouring of love and respect from even our greatest rivals.

I know that in the years since, lawsuits and studies, finger pointing and fear have all mired the memory of Bonfire and what it truly meant to so many Aggies: a time to gather in camaraderie prior to the biggest game of the year. It wasn’t as much about UT as it was about being an Aggie and experiencing a tradition that was 90 years in the making.

Ten years later, on what would have been the 100th Anniversary of Bonfire, Aggies came together to remember that fateful night in which 12 Aggies were killed, and many others injured. The place where Bonfire had once been built, and today a beautiful memorial stands, thousands gathered at the moment of collapse in a candlelight vigil.

Nashville Aggies gathered tonight

I was able to watch part of that memorial thanks to a live feed from KBTX, the local CBS affiliate. I clutched my husbands hand, and as I expected would happen… as the images flashed in front of my eyes, and I listened to the stories, I felt the sobs build in my chest and the tears fall. My heart was very much in Aggieland at that moment. I can never in a million years explain what this meant to me… what this means to Aggies everywhere.

I was blessed this evening to be surrounded by Aggies locally. I invited Aggies to join me for dinner, and to my delight several came out. We poured over a recent Texas Monthly, and the day’s Battalion. We shared a good bit of good bull from our days in Aggieland, and about our days here in Nashville.

In this one night, friendships that had begun over time at Game Watching Parties and Happy Hours seemed to truly solidify. By the end of the night, plans for Christmas were being made, and once again, hundreds of miles from where the Bonfire once burned, its true spirit was sparked once again. Aggie camaraderie stood strong and shined. It burned brightly… just as it was always meant to do.

November was once a month I would become downright GIDDY about arriving for the simple fact that it meant my birthday was near. Today? I look at my November calendar and all I see is… a lot going on!

November Birthdays

First and foremost is definitely BIRTHDAYS! My friend, Anne, has her birthday on the 5th. I’m right behind her on the 10th. My husband is the 19th, and my Mom’s is on the 22nd! Not to mention the countless other friends whose birthdays land this month… I think if we tried to have one big joint birthday party we’d have to have two full size sheet cakes to fit all the names!

Right there with birthdays, I can’t forget Anniversaries. My brother and sister-in-law got married on the 11th (14 years!) and our friend’s Brian and Kristen got married on the 19th (4 years!).

Important holidays: Veterans Day (11th) and Thanksgiving (26th). And of course we can’t forget National Deviled Egg Day (today!), Pack Your Mom Lunch Day (15th), and Stay At Home Because You’re Well Day (30th). (For more of these days, visit this list on About.com.)

Among these days, I am participating in NaNoWriMo. I’ve mentioned this before, but now its begun. I’m glad to say that as of right now, I am right on target to do this. Ask me again in a week how I’m doing. Then again, don’t ask. I’ll tell you on my own soon, I am sure.

On November 9th, I end my very first Project 365. In one way, I will be really glad to see it come to an end. In another, I’m sad to see it end, and I am trying to come up with my own project to replace it. I might continue on with it, but give it some sort of twist. I don’t know for sure yet. I have 8 days to decide. I’ll let you know what I decide then.

10 Years Later...

November 18th is the 10 year anniversary of the Aggie Bonfire collapse. You can rest assured I’ll have a full entry that day about it, but it is yet another anniversary that lands in this month.

In another sad memory, 10 years ago my brother was in an auto accident (on my birthday) that certainly changed my driving habits, what I drive, and without a doubt made me stop taking mine and my family and friend’s safety for granted.

Finally, big games to be played by Aggies this month. They will face Colorado, Oklahoma, Baylor and Texas this month. The Texas is back ON Thanksgiving, where it rightfully belongs. Again… that’s another entry for a later date.

Lots going on this month! I just hope I can keep up!

Tomorrow, I will be attending my 10 Year Class Reunion. In these days, I will take the opportunity to look back on ten of my favorite elements of high school (in no particular order of importance)…

#1 – In loving memory…

I went to visit my friend yesterday, and I took her a single red rose. I miss her dearly.

Five years after graduation, the Class of 1999 lost one of its members in an automobile accident. I lost a friend who had a very special place in my heart… a friend who still has that place to this day.

While I am sure I knew Candace somehow through elementary school, it was in sixth grade that our friendship seemed to really spark. At least, that is when my fond memories of her start.

We had sixth grade science together, and we had to participate in the science fair. That meant having to purchase a presentation board for the fair.

Candace paid for hers in all pennies.

Later that year, I forget what our class was doing that she brought deviled eggs to class as part of her project. However, I do remember going to her after class and saying, “Hey… I’ll be your best friend if I can have one…” She pretty much rolled her eyes at me the same time I rolled my eyes internally at myself for even using that old cliche.

I did not know when I said that, though, that she would be one of those people to truly leave a mark on my life that will be there until the day I die.

I have SEVERAL pictures of Candace taking a picture of me while I took a picture of her. It was like a running joke.

Candace simply had this open and innocent nature, even as you knew she’d already lived a lot of life by junior high. I don’t think anyone would disagree with me when I say she had this ditziness that made you shake and scratch your head, and yet she was in National Honor Society in high school and took advanced placement classes.

She was a natural beauty, one of those rare beauties who didn’t have to wear make-up or fix her hair to still stand out in a crowd. That fact was one part natural good looks and one part inner beauty that shown through her personality and easy smile. I really don’t think she was ever want for male attention, and yet I don’t know of many women who would have begrudged her that fact.

I could go on and on about memories I have of our friendship, but I will do my best to keep it short… ish.

Candace would always wear her ponytail up high on her head, and she quickly earned the nickname “Pebbles.” I still have cards from her signed with that name. A Pebbles she was, too!

I remember calling to dedicate LeAnn Rimes’ “(Don’t Ever Lose) That Light in Your Eyes” to her on WACO 100. And she would dedicate any given song back to me. I wish I could remember now what it was she called in now. That part of that  memory escapes me, but LeAnn’s song always reminds me of her.

Me and Candace at Flag camp -- 1997

So does “Wonderwall” by Oasis, as I still remember her singing along to it in the cafeteria when it would come on the jukebox.

She went to the same church as I did, and we went through Confirmation together. I think it was during projects we did as part of our Confirmation that she met my brother. I remember that she was one of the only friends of mine that my brother actually stopped me to tell me, “She’s really cool. I like her!” I told her that one day, and she would always — from then forward — make sure to go out of her way to say hello to him whenever he was around.

Un-apologetically open and friendly. That was Candace.

I remember, also, as we worked on a project for Confirmation, she and another friend spent the night at my house with me. She wanted to know why we made her sleep on the love seat, while the two of us had the couches. I pointed out she was a good five inches shorter than both of us.She took it good naturedly, but pouted about it nonetheless. What I’d give to banter with her again, if only for a few minutes.  It would almost always end in gales of laughter.

These two were unseperable!

Candace was a member of the Flag Corp, and that sisterhood offered even more memories. Too many to even begin to list.

This weekend is homecoming, and Candace made her appearance on the Homecoming court. She shined out there on that field.

Our Senior year, near the end of the Fall Semester, we came close to losing her in an auto accident. I still remember when the call came, and I got word it had happened. I went numb…

One of my favorite photos in our Senior Yearbook is a photo of Candace in her cap and gown, with a far away look in her eyes. She came all too close to not being there that night, and yet there she was. A few more scars on her body, but she was there with our class. Getting her diploma with the rest of us.

She would always bring her tax return to have my parents prepare it for her. The last time I saw her was on a very cold February or March day, when I met her and her boyfriend at my parent’s office to get their tax information from them.

Candace giving me a pout... Our last night to ever perform together on the field. -- 1997

My parents had to run an errand out of town, and I was more than happy to meet Candace, who had an appointment that Saturday morning, at the office for them. I hadn’t seen her in far too long, and I itched to know how she was doing. For even though we had drifted in location, and we didn’t “hang out” any more nor did we ever run around and go out together, I still considered her one of my very best friends.

However, I drove up late only to discover I had the wrong keys. We didn’t get a chance to visit much as we stood there shivering and she handed me their information outside.

I hugged her tightly and we said a very hasty good bye to get back into our warm vehicles. I apologized up and down for my tardiness and for forgetting my keys. I still remember her giving me her patented, “You’re crazy” look and laughing at my being so flustered — something only someone so familiar with you can do and you know its done out of love.

The next year, I missed her coming into the office to drop off and pick up her return. I had no idea it would be my last chance to ever see her again.

I got word that night in April 2003 that there had been an accident. Once again I went numb. She’d cheated death before, but was not so lucky this time. This world lost a light that night, but it gained an angel above. I like to think she’s one of my guardian angels… be it true or not, it gives me comfort.

I had a final in one of my major Journalism courses at Texas A&M the day of her funeral. It was one of the finals you were there to take even if you had 103 fever. Candace was always one of my biggest cheerleaders (and not to mention an Aggie fan!), and I felt she would probably kick my butt if I missed my final. However, I did make it to the Rosary the night before. That night is my very last, deeply treasured, memory of her.

So as the Class of 1999 gathers tomorrow night, her absence will be felt deeply. She’s not there by choice. She’s not there because… she’s not here.

I went to visit her grave yesterday, and I mused to myself, “Where would she be today if…” as I stared at her headstone.

I know that asking that question doesn’t get me anywhere. I instead choose to believe in my heart that she’s smiling down on me and everyone she ever cared about and loved in life. I choose to believe she is happy that I’ve accomplished as many of my dreams as I have. Happy I’ve found a man I love to grow old with. Happy I have a wonderful family who all also remember her fondly. Happy to be one of the voices in my conscience, guiding me in various tasks and decisions. Happy to be poking fun at me when I do something goofy.

Here’s to believing wherever she is now, she’s happy and smiling nonstop. She deserves absolutely nothing less.

In two days, I will be attending my 10 Year Class Reunion. In these days, I will take the opportunity to look back on ten of my favorite elements of high school (in no particular order of importance)…

#2 – Graduation

Thirteen years had lead to that night.

Kindergarten at St. Monica’s. First and second grade at Ben Milam Elementary. Third through fifth at Ada Henderson. Junior high at O.J. Thomas. Finally Yoe High School.

Hours of classes. Hours of homework. All the organizations. All the events. The love. The pride. The friendships that would fade. The friendships that would last a lifetime.

It all culminated on May 29, 1999 at 8:00 pm on Yoe High School Athletic Field when we stood for one last time as one unit. We were and are the Class of 1999.

The day of graduation started with practice both on the field and in the gymnasium (in case of rain). We came really close to having to be in the gym, as I remember the sky having a distinctly greenish tinge to it, as storms churned and billowed in the area.

I sat ranked 13th in my class. I would be heading off to Temple College in the fall, followed by Texas A&M University in College Station. I would soon be a member of the Fightin’ Texas Aggie Class of 2003, along with many of my Yoe High classmates. We had future Texas Longhorns and Southwest Texas Bobcats. Baylor Bears and Texas Tech Red Raiders.  Some would be going straight into the work force. Others would be getting ready to start families.

My Senior Portraits - 1999

However in that moment, in that place and time, we were all on the same page. The whole world and our lives ahead of us. We were jumping off into it with the safety net of our education but without any guarantees. However, we had in our hands, inside the maroon leather cover, our high school diplomas. And that was enough.

I think everyone in my class will agree that one of the most memorable parts of the night was our salutatorian reading Dr. Seuss’ “Oh The Place You’ll Go.” We had the oldest daughter of our school board president in our class, and I remember her hugging her dad when she got her diploma.  We sang “On Yoe High” one last time. We turned our tassels and stood poised to dash across the field.

As the night ended, we knew not what the future held. And somehow, it didn’t matter. We’d done it. We’d made it to our graduation night. We had something to celebrate.

Friends and classmates forever...

Friends and family swarmed the field. Pictures were taken and there were hugs and tears. Most of my class went on to Senior Celebration that night after graduation. I opted to celebrate at home with family. I also had obligations at church early the very next morning, so I skipped my class party. Therefore, when I look back on graduation, I realize that it was the last time I saw and spoke to many of my classmates.

These people were a constant for me. I had stood beside them. I had learned beside them. I had played with and relied upon them for the last thirteen years. Suddenly, that would no longer happen. I was excited for my future. But I also mourned the loss of these relationships.

I look back upon that night as a huge turning point in life. It was a step from something familiar out into the great unknown of life.

Life is a still a great unknown… but my educations (high school and college,  the practical, social and academic) have given me the tools to navigate through it, one challenge, failure and success at a time.

Yoe High Class of 1999 -- There were freaks and hippies in my high school // Football players all tryin’ to be cool // And everybody scramblin’ to hide their beer // When the cops drove by ‘til the coast was clear // Kids fallin’ in and out of love // On the hood of Chevys, in the beds of trucks // We were stumblin’ our way through life ‘til our senior year

In three days, I will be attending my 10 Year Class Reunion. In these days, I will take the opportunity to look back on ten of my favorite elements of high school (in no particular order of importance)…

#3 – Prom

Prom 1998 & 1999

Prom is one of those events in a high school career that you look forward to starting around the time you can say the word “prom.” Or at least it was for me. A night to get all dressed up and go out for what promised to be a magical evening.

In reality, was it magical? Maybe not so much. It was, however, a lot of fun.

In my high school, prom was for Juniors and Seniors. The Junior class hosted the prom, and the Seniors were the special guests of the night. Neither year did I have a date, instead I went out a group of girlfriends for the night.

Our Junior year, we loaded up and went out to eat prior to going to the prom. My parents loaned us their Grand Marquis to drive for the night, and we road in leather seat luxury.

After wards, we all spent the night at one of the girls’ parent’s house. We made a night of it! Prom followed by a big slumber party.

Our Senior year, due to timing issues (mostly my having UIL competition that same day), we opted to have dinner after prom.

The year before, we’d been late arriving, and we agreed the most fun of the night had really been the beginning: the grand march. And then, of course, you wanted to get your prom picture taken early when you still looked your best.

I have to give it to the Class of 2000… they did a fantastic job decorating the VFW where we held prom. Looking back, I do think they did a better job hosting prom than my class did. (Just my personal opinion, of course.) We were late to our dinner reservations, because we were having too much fun to leave prom!

Dinner was wonderful, though, and after wards we headed to another friend’s house for our “slumber party.” Our biggest giggle of the night had to be the flat tire we got on our way home. We had to wait for help to come as none of us could see ourselves trying to change a tire in long dresses, hair and nails done.

But we eventually made it to the post-party, and our night ended quietly tucked away in an upstairs den fast asleep surrounded by the friends we’d hold forever in hearts.

Prom is generally considered a night for couples. For me, it was a night of best friends, prom dresses, and snap shots of memories that will last a lifetime.

Friendships & Prom Memories

In four days, I will be attending my 10 Year Class Reunion. In these days, I will take the opportunity to look back on ten of my favorite elements of high school (in no particular order of importance)…

#4 – Journalism: Yearbook & Newspaper

The Yoeman Arrow -- Our school newspaper. I served as Editor of the paper for a couple years.

In eighth grade, we signed up for classes for our freshman year of high school. Most of the classes were a given. The core classes and several of the electives were set in stone ahead of time. However, I had one class period left to fill. What to take? What to take?

I saw a choice for Journalism, and the actual thought through my brain: “That should be an easy A…”

No one told me if would change my life.

Within weeks of taking my first Journalism course, my whole life plan went from being a teacher some day to being a journalist. I devoured every lesson. I found a talent for the writing style. My successes in UIL Journalism competitions fueled my fire. By the end of my freshman year, I had a feature article appear in the school newspaper, and I was officially hooked for good.

I was on the yearbook and newspaper staff for the next three years, and I eventually took over as editor of the newspaper. My time and work in the journalism department was without a doubt the time spent making strides for my future. I worked closely with the editor of my town’s newspaper, and I have to say that he taught me techniques that I rely on still today.

I spent hours of time outside of school working on the newspaper. My Senior year, I took the newspaper from being a single page in the local newspaper, to a two page tab-style insert. I would literally lock myself in my bedroom for a full weekend composing the newspaper in QuarkXPress, editing photos in Photoshop. My teacher/sponsor would critique the paper after it was printed, and I would learn more from those critiques that I would have had someone sat down and showed me what to do. Often, you learn more from your mistakes than from your successes.

My yearbooks

My best friend was editor of the yearbook, and I worked closely with her to turn out that project as well. Hours would be spent in school working to make page deadlines. We would meet during the summer to proof pages as they came back from the publisher. A handful of us would oversee Senior portraits just before school started each year.

Advertising sales, layouts, and deadlines were all common to those of us who really gave the yearbook and newspaper the attention and dedication it required to produce a quality product.

I was given a crash course in using the school’s cameras to be a backup photographer when we needed one. Boy things would have been easier had digital photography been as common as it is today! Nonetheless, I think that this is when my interest in photography really got a spark.

I had two amazing Journalism teachers in my four years of high school. They really pushed me and fueled my fire. Due to the magic of email and Facebook, I’m still in touch with both of them today. I hope they know how much of an impact they had on me, because had it not been for them I would probably not be writing this today. I would probably not be pursuing a dream of making writing a profitable career for myself. I would be a different person… and while that would probably be great as well, I’m REALLY happy to be who and where I am now.

And it all started by checking the box beside “Journalism” under electives in eighth grade.

The purpose of the ARROW is…

Acquaint students with Yoe traditions and ideals.
Report school news fairly and impartially.
Render support for scholastic standards.
Offer aid and information to its readers.
Work for the betterment of Yoe High School.

In five days, I will be attending my 10 Year Class Reunion. In these days, I will take the opportunity to look back on ten of my favorite elements of high school (in no particular order of importance)…

#5 – Wheels

My Old Parking Tags

A big thing every teenager thinks about when they enter high school: DRIVING!

I was no different. I was excited to sign up for drivers ed when I was a freshman. The first semester I had Health class, and then second semester was Drivers Ed. I’ll be honest, I don’t remember much about “in class” study. I do remember the simulators, though!

They were older, and half the simulator units didn’t quite work right. But you still got the effect of driving a vehicle, and honestly the lessons learned in that trailer as we pretended to drive are the ones that stuck with me most. I still think of that simulator any time I look before changing lanes! (And, personally, I think a lot of drivers today could use a few hours in a simulator course to go over some basic driving laws and rules.)

I passed my written exam in one try, and I was ecstatic to have my learners permit in hand.

I was one of the first to have summer driving. We had to complete a certain number of hours in a car (with a teacher) driving and then observing. So, we were paired up with a fellow student to do our driving. I actually did my summer driving before school had even let out for summer!  I have to confess that I passed parallel parking thanks to the passenger break my instructor had at his disposal. However, everything else came down to just good practice behind the wheel. As with many things, the more you practice, the better you do, and I do think those hours summer driving were important. (Sidebar: I sometimes wonder if our teenagers today are getting enough practical experience behind the wheel before being let loose on our highways and interstates?)

On my 16th birthday, even though technically I wasn’t supposed to do it that way, I got my Dad to sign me out of school to go get my driver’s license. I was so excited, and I didn’t want to wait until after school!!! It only took maybe fifteen minutes, but it made me feel like a million dollars.

* 1989 Ford Taurus.

My first car getting a bath at a Flag Corp fundraiser in 1997.

The first vehicle I drove to school was my dad’s black Ford F-150 Supercab truck. However, that only lasted about a week before I had my first car: a 1989 Ford Taurus.

I loved that car. Some of my favorite memories of that car include:

– going to sell advertising for the yearbook. All my friends and I piled into the car and went on our way. I missed my turn one afternoon, and instead of going around the block I insisted on going about two blocks in reverse to catch the correct turn.

It was a small town. You could do stuff like that there.

– it being weather central before Baccalaureate and Graduation ceremonies in which tornado watches and warnings kept popping up all around us. I was parked right beside the band hall, and about fifteen people (including band directors!) crowded around my car as we listened to the weather reports.

– listening to CDs on my portable CD player thanks to the cassette tape adapter. I had quite the CD collection by then, but (as per my last blog entry) Bryan White was what you could usually hear being piped out of my speakers.

When it came time to sell that car, I was very sad to see it go. I grew quite attached to that car! It was my first ride, and like your first love… you never forget it.

One of my final memories of the car was when the back window got busted out due to a flying rock when the lot it sat on for sale was being mowed. One of the best things about the car was the rear-window defrost, but the price of putting one back in was just too much. So, it was replaced with a regular back window, and I think it eventually went to an auto auction to be sold. Nonetheless, it was gone after it had already been replaced…

Red... my beloved truck that my brother and I squabble over who is going to own some day

* 1983 Ford F-150.
You can buy anything at Wal-Mart, you know. It’s where my second vehicle was purchased, after all!

When I was little, I would always talk about how much I wanted “a red and white truck.” I still remember one sat outside of a house we drove by every morning on the way to school when I was in elementary school. I would stare at it longingly. Some day, I wanted a red and white truck.

Fast forward several years and my parents noticed a truck for sale in the Wal-Mart parking lot, and the decided to call to inquire about it. It turned out to be a good deal, and after being looked over by my brother (who is an ASE certified mechanic) and given a thumbs up, my dad brought it home for me to drive.

I admit to being a little nervous the first time I drove it to school! Going from a low profile sedan to a long-bed pick-up truck was a transition! But its also one I have never turned away from to this day.

That truck still sits at my parents house, and my brother and I regularly banter over who is going to own it some day. I say I get first dibs, because it was mine in high school! Time will tell, of course, but one thing time has not changed: I love that truck.

Red freshly repainted (except for the inside of the bed, obviously) -- 2007

I was a Junior when my brother took it and we got dual exhaust put on it. Straight out the back was my request, and boy did it purr with a low rumble once it was done. I still remember when a guy in one of my classes asked me why I got dual exhaust put on my truck. I was pretty baffled… why WOULDN’T I get it done?? It needed a new exhaust system anyway. Why not go all out and make it — excuse me — bad ass!?

That truck has a personality all its own, that’s for sure. It smells like an old truck on the inside. I love the click of the doors when you open them. The sliding rear glass, and the high beam switch on the floor. The interior light that only turns on after you hit the ceiling just right. I had to put a new radio in it, and I scored speakers for behind the seat so it would thump.

Right out of high school, the truck needed a new transmission, which was an adventure in and of itself. It had to have the top repainted, and since then the paint has been refreshed a second time. I eventually moved on to new models of the F-150 for safety features (a 2000, 2002, 2003, 2005 and 2007 to be exact over time… one of those died in an auto accident and the rest due to being a lease and my decision to move up when the mileage got too high for the lease.) However, that 1983 remains my favorite of all the vehicles I’ve ever driven. I drove it to my high school graduation. I drove it to my first day of college.  It definitely drove me to many important events and changes in high school… heck, in my life.

I had an old beat up Ford pick-up truck
That I drove around when I was 18
And I must confess though I tried my best
That old bed in the back was only used for hauling leaves
I was a nerd back then
I’m still nerd right now
Some things never change.
– Some Things Never Change by Tyler Flowers

In six days, I will be attending my 10 Year Class Reunion. In these days, I will take the opportunity to look back on ten of my favorite elements of high school (in no particular order of importance)…

#6 – Life outside school

High school days do indeed always seem to focus on what happens within the confines of “high school life.” But as I look back on those four years, I see many things in my personal life — life outside of school — that changed dramatically.

* My brother got married. November 1995.

Wedding Party

My first semester of high school, my older brother got married. Definitely a transition for me! He’d gone to technical school out of high school, so its not like he’d never been away from home. But it was still going to prove to be a big change. He had been that one dear friend that had always been there my whole life. Believe it or not, he and I really never — or at least very rarely — fought like most siblings do. We had a mutual respect and admiration from the beginning.

Now, he’d never be across the house any more, and in that respect I was a little sad that day. However, in my heart I knew he was starting a new chapter of his life, and I was genuinely happy for him… for them both!

The wedding was beautiful, and the day a blur. It was my first time being a bridesmaid, and I was still a newbie to high heels. THAT could have been a disaster, but thankfully all went smoothly. Many wonderful memories exist from that day, and I cherish them all.

The long and short of it all, though, my family changed right after my high school career started. And I wouldn’t trade that change for anything…

* My first concert, Fan Fair, & Nashville. 1997.

Fan Fair 1997 -- (Clockwise rom top left) At the Country Music Hall of Fame; Me and Mom in from the the Ryman; Me and Michigan J Frog -- the WB was brand new; Me and Bryan White

My Sophomore year, I dipped my toes into what would eventually become my whole life… only I didn’t know it then.

On Feb. 14, 1997, a friend and I went to see Thrasher Shiver, Ricochet and Bryan White. I admit. I was one of those girls who was madly in love with Bryan White, and I was on cloud nine the whole night. On top of it all, I had scored floor seats. We were only maybe 15 rows from the stage. I had a BLAST and was pretty much hooked.

That summer, my parents and I made the trip to Nashville to attend Fan Fair. My very first visit to Nashville, and we all remember my saying, “Wow, I feel like I just came home. I’m going to live here some day.”

What do you know? I do now!

The funny thing is, there are big parts of Nashville I just don’t remember. We drove down Broadway, and we went to the Ryman. I remember the Ryman but not Broadway. Fan Fair was still held out at the fair grounds, which I thought was fantastic. It was all centrally located, and easy to go from the live shows all day to the booths. I laugh now as I go through photos from those days… the people that I snapped photos of that I now know personally. Or the ones that were so big back then that are now long ago forgotten.

I stood in line for hours on end to meet Bryan White! We took a tour of homes, and we saw where multiple stars lived at that time. I remember being enthralled with tour buses. Today? A bus is a bus, and my husband co-drives them.

My how times changed. I guess you could say, though, that the trip to Nashville was a glimpse into the future, and on some level I knew that. But had you asked me seriously that last night before we drove home, and we sat in the audience of the Grand Ole Opry, “Will you be watching your husband on that stage some day, while standing backstage?” I’d have laughed and said no…

…and I’d have been wrong.

* My nephew was born. October 1997.

I was a proud aunt

First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then come baby in a baby carriage!

Stands to reason that after my brother got married my freshman year, that there would be a good chance I’d have a niece or nephew by the time I graduated. Sure enough, fall of my Junior year, my nephew made his appearance to this world.

Now, he came into this world early. Premature, he was smaller than the Elmo doll that sat in his baby bed. He spent weeks of his life in NICU where family could come visit after putting on a gown and scrubbing up carefully. He started day one of his life fighting. He started day one as the light of many of our lives.

I still remember New Years Eve 1998. My parents and I baby sat him for the night, and he had to wear a heart monitor around his little chest. If it shifted too much, it would go off with a beep that would make him stir.

We eventually opted to take the monitor off so he could sleep, but I remember hardly sleeping a wink. I was constantly getting up to check on him. I could watch him sleep for hours and never get tired of it. A living and breathing miracle from God.

Family photo -- Christmas 1997

To fast forward a little past high school years, around age four or five, he was diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. He’ll never play sports, and while he can still walk, he has a wheelchair to use when he gets too tired and sore to walk anymore. Swimming, go-cart riding and fishing are among his favorite activities. He’s a Tenderfoot in Boy Scouts, and he just started to play saxophone in the band. He’s a straight-A student.

He is my biggest hero. Like I said, from Day One he entered this world as a fighter. And fought he has. He gets frustrated when he trips and falls. And I know he probably gets picked on at school now and then. He never lets it get him down. He’s a local spokesman for MDA, and this weekend he’s appearing on the telethon.

He teaches everyone he knows about Muscular Dystrophy and MDA. But more than that… he teaches everyone to not give up. To keep your head up. That just because you can’t do one thing, it doesn’t mean give up. It means find that thing you are good at, and give that thing your all.

I really believe God never gives us more than we can handle. And my nephew handles something this big with such grace and optimism… he’s one of the strongest people I know.  Him… his mom… his dad… his sister. I admire them more than they will ever know.

* My grandpa passed away. December 1997.

Me, Grandpa, Mom

My grandma on my mom’s side passed away long before I was born. So growing up, I only knew my grandparents on my dad’s side, and then Grandpa on my mom’s side. So, don’t think it weird when I say that in December 1997, I lost my first grandparent.

This was a man that rode a bicycle around town into at least his 70s. I remember going to visit him and my brother and I would get softballs, baseball, tennis balls, golf balls, whatever we wanted that he had collected on his travels through town. We would go every few weekends and take Grandpa to church, then go out to eat. It was a nice familial routine we had for years. I miss that sometimes still today.

Grandpa had been in a nursing home for awhile already and his health started to go downhill in ‘97. He had already beaten throat cancer, and when he passed away at 91 he could say he had lived a life of hard work.

Somewhere, a photo does exist of my grandpa, my mom, my brother and my nephew… four generations together. We were lucky to get that photo, as my nephew was only two months old when Grandpa passed away.

Death is never easy, but its a part of life. There are many people who have never had to deal with a loved one passing away, and while they are very lucky… I think that’s a key lesson in life that needs to be learned. It helps to respect life and to cherish every day… every hour… every minute we have with our loved ones.