...'tis the season...

Delsie was included in the $15 drawing with the cousins. She loved her red lobster the most.



Christmas at my parents. Adults had to purchase a $5 gift from a second hand store- it was a complete succes. The gifts were amazing and it was a blast to see how far we could stretch a dollar.


So blessed with Gods faithfulness. It was a Merry Christmas.

the story continues.

****read the previous post that I wrote the day before this story happened...***


It is not uncommon for me to hear every dog story. I love dogs. I live life with a dog by my side 24/7. Saturday morning at was at the local coffee shop, JP's, having a coffee and bagel with a friend when a person approached our table and proceeded to tell me that there was a black lab that followed her this morning outside the city pool. I tried to respond with compassion but wondered why she felt the need to tell me.
That is until I left JP's to meet my friend at her store down town 8th street.
I decided to "walk" to her store to cherish the weather before Antarctica air hit and covered the streets with snow and ice.
When I approached the corner of 8th and River and waited for the pedestrian light to give the go ahead I noticed Delsies ears alerting me to something. I followed her gaze and realized a beautiful black lab was slowly galloping toward us to offer a friendly hello. She was spared by the halting of the tires of the cars that almost hit her and allured to the sound of my voice calling her to safety. Once the girl in the wheelchair kicked in to rescue this dog, the eight other on lookers
decided they better ask the disabled girl if she needed some help. Never mind that this beautiful puppy almost got hit!
After I convinced a sweet Hope College student that you could rig up a leash to be used as a collar, we made our way to my friends store. The plan was to give myself some time to think and get this four legged friend out of the cold and away from danger.
Our plan to go Goodwill shopping changed as we drove out to the Humane society to see if a frantic owner had called. After searching the books to come up void, the workers gave her the necessary shots and cleaned her ears so Delsie wouldn't get sick, we returned home.
It wasn't very long before this dog and I bonded.
No accidents in the house, no barking and Delsie even seemed to tolerate her.
This dog was attached to me and I to it. She slept in my bed and made me laugh. I stayed home from church and walked the dogs three times. It was a bit crazy the first time but by our third walk, we had it down pat. We were all a team.
Monday came and I had to go to work. I was a bit sad as I was occupied by her this weekend and so very grateful for the distraction and simple joy she brought to my home.
I returned home for lunch to let her out and received a phone call from "Sarah" telling me the humane society gave her my number and I would give them a lot of happiness if I had their dog. Little did she know the happiness her dog gave me this past weekend.
I tried to reassure her that their dog was safe and happy. We exchanged stories of how the lost and then found happened. I described the dogs silly antics and the similarities in the looks she has with my dog. We then arranged for me to drop off the dog on my way back to work. She was thrilled, I was a tad disappointed.
Before we hung up, I asked her the dogs name.
"Nugget." she replied.

Of course.
Nugget.

dog days.

When tears stream faster than the sound of laughter and time is both my enemy and friend these days...I attempt to focus on "nuggets" of Gods faithfulness and love for me.
It's so simple in the moment. All I need to do is turn my head to the right and follow the sound of Delsie snoring as she enters REM on her toddler bed for the evening. I can not imagine my life with out her. If she weren't a part of me, I don't think I would get out of my queen size bed.
Yea, my gift of Gods promise for my life is in a dog. Some would find this strange, maybe a bit over the top...but I just see Delsie as pure joy; my nugget.

smelling the flowers.

We all have a story. Each chapter has a plot; sometimes it's mystery, a drama, a comedy, a thriller and hopefully not a murder. Stories can be a quick read, simple yet entertaining. or they can be quite detailed and rather boring. Some characters create chaos and long for complexity. Other people live for tranquility and hope for serenity. Whatever our life story, it is real to us and alive. The words created on a page are not just words formed out of the alphabet, they have meaning. They have purpose. They create who we are. How our character develops; how our story develops. How the story is told. The readers will listen from their perspective. And we will learn from each and every chapter. Hopefully.

"Just keep on writing even if all you can write is 'life stinks'". I like this quote. Because as I stare at the blank page, I am so scared of the words being formed. So I don't write. I don't move. I am frozen with fear. I become stagnant. I get stuck. If I form the words "Life Stinks", I take a away the power. The power I feel is stripping me of who I am. Making me sad. Allowing my heart to hurt.

So I persevere. I smell the flowers dropped off on my desk at work. I sip coffee with company who loves me. I answer the phone from a caller who asks me how I am doing. I repeat the words, "I love you" a little more and receive the same words back. I force a smile. I let the tears flow. I allow laughter to fill space and float in the silent air. I gaze upon a wall art that reminds
me that God is present. I cling to the prayers being offered. I am in community. A family. I belong.

My story is not finished. This chapter is done. Maybe. Or maybe it is just beginning. The pain is intense. As I lean into it, I cry out for my voice to be heard. Is he listening? But more importantly, am I? It's my story.

cousins halloween party

I've never got into Halloween but it's fun to see my family into it...

Delsiemeister.

It's been 8 years since I was introduced to the joy of my life in the training barn at Canine Partners For Life in Cochranville, PA. "Holly, here is your dog, Delsie, do not let anyone touch her or talk to her but you." Megan, her trainer for the past year, handed over the brown leather leash. I sat at a picnic table with the other recipients. I was filled with fear and excitement as this beautiful black lab laid at my feet.
It was quite the journey to get Delsie. As my friend went out to get food for the next three weeks of intensive training, I stayed back in the room at Extend-A-Stay only to vomit the nerves that filled my stomach. That time in my life was the most challenging physically and emotionally yet equally rewarding.
Now in my life, I am up against a challenging time emotionally. My beautiful black lab feels my pain. Now she is the one throwing up the nerves that are oozing out of my body.
I know I will be fine because of Gods faithfulness. Delsie is a tangible reminder of that. She is faithful. She is loyal. She is committed. She loves me. And I love her.
So does my mom as she made this bed under my desk at work...

a method to my madness

Friday Night. 4 girls. 4 boys. Age 2-12. 11 PM bedtime. 2 AM 2 year old screaming. 7 AM wake up call. Attention span of 5 minutes= birth control.

It was cousins night at Aunt Holly's.



I had a blast but I'm not sure how my sisters do it.

And I don't think Delsie has moved since they left.

oops.

the joys of having a disability and a service dog.

moments.

Last night I added my down comforter and even turned on the heat. (which I vowed I wouldn't do until November or December) Last weekend my sister and her family camped out at the State park. It was too hot to sit directly in the sun. My, my, what a week can bring...

...in a second, life can change. Dreams are shattered and the future is scary- in a moment. I live life with shattered dreams, I think we all do to a certain degree. My future is different, unknown and at times I live in fear of that.

God is not a God of fear. He promises me hope. Even though my dream may different, there is hope. I just have to trust that. (easier said than done)

These photos represent that hope God provides for me. The moments that are filled with tears and doubts, I remember my family. God's promise that I belong somewhere in this crazy world.

... a world where I am sitting like I just got off a horse. Yikes.

to write or not to write...

I am sad this cloudy morning.
You are working a twelve hour day.
again.
The worst thing in my life is feeling like a failure.
We are here because I have a headache.
I am skipping church.
again...

The beginning of the summer I was blessed with the ability to take a creative writing class with Heather Sellers. What a blast.
I am ashamed that I have tucked this experience and lessons I learned in the back of my brain. I am not liking who I am today. I lit my fall candle, skipped church, drank a cup of Moka Java from World Market, stayed in my PJ's and took out my notebook from creative writing this summer with Heather Sellers.
I can breathe again. If I could walk, I would have a pep in my step.
So cheers to Charles Bukowski and writers who live out their dream and write.
You are an inspiration.

One of my pages from my messy notebook:
(encouragement written by Heather)

the 10 steps to focused writing

1. intend to write (no thinking no talking)
2. set your timer
3. tune the soul (poetry is good; prayer, music)
4. review your system for distraction management (you WILL get distracted)
5. align the body and mind
6. surprise the front brain, court the mid-brain:
a) cards
b) lists
c) rituals
d) x-orientation
7. move the hand slowly, don't think just write what you see
8. when you fall out of the groove, slide back in gently
9. stop when the timer goes off no matter what
10. resist the urger to read it over, to judge: build up a habit of concentration, work that muscle, not the muscle of judgement which binds us up.

it's time to work that muscle.

chocolate obsession and B12

I could sell this stuff and make a mint. Either that or become the poster child for B12. Just like the father in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" who believed Windex was the remedy for every ailment, B12 is the new Windex.
Although my house looks like a meth lab and Brett has a career in nursing shooting me up with B12 injections, I feel like a new woman.
After blood work that proved that I was deficient in B12 and I persuaded my doc and Brett to give me the injections, my life has shifted.

One of the plus' (which are numerous) has been the ability to sleep a full 7-8 hours and wake up without an alarm. Before B12 when 3:00 in the afternoon ticked on, I was tempted to crawl under my desk at work and take a nap on the hairy dog bed with Delsie. After B12, 3:00 signifies 2 more hours at work. It's amazing.

Last night I think my chocolate obsession and B12 were at odds with each other as I read 2 short stories by Rick Bass at 3 in the morning.

My bad. I can live without chocolate. B12 is here to stay.

...I'm back.

It's been a very long two months without a working laptop. I got the message Saturday at 12:20 that my "new" laptop was read to be picked up. I had it in my possession at 12:30. How sweet it is...let the blogging continue.

seriously.

I think I may have the cutest nieces and nephews...








...and the greatest sisters and brother-in-laws...










...and the best boyfriend....






...in the whole world.

white hot and 40...

My sister, Christy, turns the big 4-0 on July 9 and her husband and my other sister, Laurie, pulled off a successful surprise party for her on Friday night. (no small feat with her nose!) She was overwhelmed as was I when I rounded the corner to the back yard and all the guest wore white. The tent was adorned with little white lights, white linen and white candles. Truth be known, I didn't get the whole "wear white" thing but wow- I loved it. and I love my family.

Happy Birthday, Kissy NoBungi!

...5 more years- if I could look half as good.

...follow the yellow brick road...

I have no clue how this all got started. That is what can be exciting about life. If we just look around for different forks in the road, tap into the courage and discover what is on the other side we shouldn't be disappointed. Sometimes I travel down a particular road and have no clue why and then an "ah-ha" moment appears or then again, maybe not, and I am left as clueless as before. At least I am a little more travelled. Always learning. Life has a lot to teach.

One of the forks in the road has been a writing workshop at Hospice that I signed up for during the month of May. I can't even remember what prompted it or why I even did it. I enjoy writing. I love to be surrounded by hurting people. An opportunity to have the two worlds collide. A fork in the road.

A hour and a half, for eight weeks I met at the Hospice office with eight strangers (well, 6- I knew two of them) and we wrote out our bleeding heart in AWA format/discussion. We laughed, we cried as each of us exposed a window to our soul through the powerful art of writing. A fork in the road I was so happy I took.

The instructor suddenly became this HUGE cheerleader for me. She believed in my writing. She listened to what I wrote. She responded. She told me to take baby steps to my dream. Just follow the forks in the road.

Now I am on a path of taking a summer seminar at HOPE college presented by Heather Sellers. I had no idea how I would be able to cough up the money but I knew I had to keep running the race. After many emails to the faculty at HOPE and my attempts to play the disability card, I ran into a dead end. That is until I received word that anonymous donor paid for me to attend the writing workshop.

I am humbled. I am forever grateful. I am intimidated.

I am going to be under the teaching of a dynamic professor.

Don't put a fork in me just yet...I don't think I'm done.

eating humble pie...

On certain days I think, is this really my life?! This week (yes, week) has been one of those. If I only had the ability to fast forward over the tough stuff. But then again, I wouldn't be who I am without these 'hiccups'...and I am not giving this dang disability any more credit than that, it's molding me, making me but it is not me and never ever will be.

Two weeks ago I received a phone call from someone who hosts a summer seminary program for 15 students. For the past two summers they have been focusing on the subject of wisdom. This summer the topic is Listening to the Wisdom of the Wise: How God uses suffering to reshape our lives. Okay, I get the suffering part but am I really wise from it all?

On Monday night if these students were in my bathroom when my head caught yet another nasty fall on my bathroom tile, I am not sure they would see a wise person. After feeling the 4 inch goose egg on my forehead and retreating to the kitchen to fill a bag with ice, tears of frustration streamed down my face. I had enough energy to climb into bed and silently weep cries of desperation that this damn disease is invading my life. It's not welcome. I didn't ask for it. Am I wise because of it?

My response to his question if the children would be able to sit at my feet was mixed. It was an honor but I was filled with trepidation as the word wisdom was attached to my suffering. Such pressure.

On Wednesday I met with these students. A couple of times I felt a little lump in my throat as I reflected on my journey so far and how my God loves me and provides for me over and over and over...

In the silence of God, I want to be listening...I often think that's when I hear the most.

That and when I fall on the bathroom tile.

she did it!

When I was on my death bed (literally) my family became my strength and my #1 cheerleaders...I honestly think I wouldn't be alive today without them.
It is amazing that my sister is alive and still kickin' after running her first marathon at the Notre Dame campus this past weekend. After a near decapitation as a result of a head on collision with a deer at 5 in the morning, no money for a toll booth and Brett and I ALMOST experiencing our first argument, we made it at the 16 mile marker and 20 mile marker to cheer Christy on. As she rounded the corner and she called out "you guys" I couldn't get a word out edge wise. (what does that saying really mean, anyway?) Through my tears, I faintly yelled, "I'm so proud of you, Christy, you can do it!"

...and she did. 26.2 miles.

the sleep over

Seven great kids under the age of seven. One guy with muscles. Sweatshirts and spring jackets to combat the cool weather. Burnt popcorn from a busted microwave. Video of Ratatouille. and enough love to bust my sides.
Friday I had another cousin sleep over and I am still undecided who had a better time- me or them!
Danika is my competition as she found a place in Brett's "not to sure of kids" heart.
In the morning we all walked to Donutville and the conversation went something like this:
me: "okay, you guys, when we get there we need to remember our please and thank-yous. I am going to get each of you a donut but not a drink. I know you're going to be thirsty but we'll get something to drink back at my house."
um, after all the please and thank-yous this cheap but proud aunt gave in. chocolate milk for all!
after we settled in the booth for our sugar high, Jagger looked at me with a smirk and his big blue eyes:
Jagger: "you lied, aunt holly".
the conversation then covered aspects of a good lie and a bad one...hmmmm, I think this is one their parents can explain.
all I know is that I love my nephews and nieces. A lot.

dog lady and tulips

I did it.
I went crazy taking photos of Delsie and the tulips.
I just may die known as the dog lady with big hair.
I'd be okay with that if it were on my tombstone.
As long as she is buried next me,
Wow- what a digression.
I love this dog.

a taste of the z's

This video of Delsie snoring does not do it justice. But hopefully you will get a glimpse of D dog relaxing in her bed after a hard day of work. Even though her "work" entails snoring under my desk while I am at work! As D is getting older I am getting more nostalgic of moments like these. I love having her in my life and am so thankful she is a part of me- me legs, my heart, my strength....and the list goes on. I know no one is able to truly understand what she means to me but it is my hope that you get a kick out of her "z's" like I do...

i must remember.

I never want to forget the time in my life when I was staring out the window of the hospital for three months and confined to four walls while life seem to pass me by. I never want to forget the tears that flowed down my cheeks as I saw the Adams Street exit after a month and a half at U of M hospital knowing that I was on the road to recovery and returning home.

I am reminded of the "good" moments when I pass by these tulips amongst the weeds at the end of my street. It is a photo in my mind to remind myself that I am breathing. I feel the fresh air, the gentle breeze on my face. Its a reminder that I can eat. I am able to laugh. I can cry when it hurts and knowing tomorrow is a new day. I don't have IV's coming out of both arms and not rushing to the bathroom every two seconds.

I love this photo cuz it reminds me of Gods loyalty in my life. Even in the weeds He grows beautiful tulips- year after year. I never want to forget that so I am thankful that when I see sights like this, I won't forget.

bubble baths...

My doorbell chimes over a 100 different tunes but no one rings it. In my house, you just walk in. I have never heard Delsie bark...I totally lucked out- that isn't always the case with a service dog and my phone is set to one soft beep when someone calls. I choose to live a simple and quiet life. (accompanies the joy of living alone)
With all the peaceful bliss in my life it may seem like a mystery as to why I need to end the evening with a bubble bath in my huge tub. I am sure you have never wondered about my evening ritual or even care to know this random fact but humor me as I vent.
Although my life is not surrounded by chaos, I look forward to the evening as I fill my tub with bubbles and help circulate the blood that this darn chair has taken away from me.
I have found a 'jug" of bubble bath at Wal-Mart for a little over a dollar. But laziness and the cost of gas won out and I 'walked' over to Walgreens. The only option my budget could afford was this BOX of Calgon. This purchase has bothered me on many levels. Seriously, a box?! And this photo- we are in the 2000's, people.
But my biggest disappointment has been the lack of bubbles and the blue haze it creates in the water two seconds after I pour it in the cascading water. I am to cheap to but another jug until I finish this box. Until then, Colgon? Take it away!

...and there's more...

I seriously can not get enough of this. It makes me smile. Hope you are too.

how do i press pause on my life?

one minute I am sweating pool side in eighty degree weather,
the next I am shivering flying to forty degree weather.

how is this possible?
better yet, why do I live in Michigan?

a perfect week.
my bones got warm.

oh, how things change when children are part of your life.
entertainment in a condo in florida with eighteen bodies take on a whole new meaning when my nieces and nephews put on a talent show. despite that i am a drama coach (as kennedy calls me) i am quite proud of their show. my one year old niece, danika, has got the moves! and cole and chase provide the beat.

i know i am biased but it was the best form of entertainment your money can buy and it was even free!