Sunday, April 27, 2014

1-2-3 Like a Bird I Sing

Music was something that filled her heart with motivation and inspiration.  While she loved music from all genres, she grew up in the 50's and 60's and along with bouffant hairdos, she especially enjoyed the music and dance moves of that period in time.  All through our childhood and even up into our adulthood, she would often lovingly grab our hands to hold them as she began to dance and show us how to jitterbug and do the mashed potato which were popular dances of that era.  It was evident by her sense of free movement and pure joy that it took her back in time to younger years when life was filled with less responsibility and reminding of sweet memories she shared dancing with her younger brother, Ron, in the living room on Saturday nights. 

In addition to dancing, she loved to sing.  Although she did not think much of her singing ability while belting out some heart felt lyrics, I truly enjoyed seeing her sweet smile when she would sing along to her favorites. 

On her first and last visit to see us in early April 2007 after we moved to Texas, she shared with us that her two favorite songs at that time were "Last Dollar (Fly Away)" by Tim McGraw and "In the Arms of An Angel" by Sarah McLachlan.  And in a rather casual conversation, she commented that she had recently dreamt about playing with the cutest blonde haired boy, but had no clue who he might be and that God had shown her that she would leave this world at a time when she was home alone.  I found this conversation to be quite odd and unsettling.  I did not want to talk about her leaving me....EVER!  Little did I know that two weeks later, all of this would make sense.

She did leave this world while at home alone.  Alone without family, yes, but not alone.  In the midst of and following her heart attack, I have no doubt the angel band was there to carry her to her eternal home to meet our glorious Lord.  Both of her favorite songs were played at her funeral and how fitting they were as she had just recently been able to fly away in the arms of an angel.  Oh, and that blonde haired little boy - he must have been Uncle Ron.  I know they have enjoyed dancing in their living room in the sky on the streets of gold together.

In quiet moments I can still feel her hands in mine when we were dancing.  And I can close my eyes and see her face when she sang - sometimes smiling, other times with a serious expression, eyes closed and singing the words as if she was the songwriter and it was her story.

Today, seven years ago, mama, as you ascended upward like a spiral flying butterfly, the words to one of your favorite songs were being carried out  - and it was your story.

1-2-3 like a bird I sing cause you've given me the most beautiful set of wings.

 Mom, Uncle Ron and Uncle Carlton 


Mom, Dad and me


Mom and me summer of 1989



Sunday, April 6, 2014

A Game of Love


It all started during our senior year of high school at the pencil sharpener in Ms. Jones’ 1st period accounting class.  I would sharpen my pencil and he would smile at me and say something funny to make me laugh.  This went on for several weeks until I arrived to class one morning and found him sitting in the vacant desk to the right of me asking, “Did you do your accounting homework?”

For the rest of the school year, that was his seat - the one next to me.  We did our accounting homework together, studied together and it became a competition to see who could achieve the better grade.  I’m not ashamed to admit that he won and the truth is – it was more than a competition for grades.  It was a competition for love.

We were members of FBLA (Future Business Leaders of America) and it came time to vote for officers.  As class clown, you can imagine the reaction from our classmates when he not only ran for the position but won!  I was the shy serious wallflower and along with winning votes, he won my heart.

We were married three years later.  It didn’t take long during our first year of marriage to realize that things such as not squeezing the toothpaste just right, loading the dishwasher properly, or putting the toilet paper on the roll correctly became BIG things instead of being little things. In all honesty, it was a tough year getting through those idiosyncrasies and I tell everyone the first year of marriage is certainly the most difficult.  At least it was for us. 

Since that time, we have celebrated moving on from our Taco Bell meals on a string tight budget that first year of marriage, graduating from college and the birth of our daughter.  We have watched each other grow on a spiritual, personal, and professional level.  We have had our fair share of heartbreaks and losses and we have seen areas in each other where we know God is still working. 

23 years ago today, I married my high school sweetheart, Barry Bullard.  He is the man who won my heart and has loved me unconditionally all these years, even when I didn’t deserve it. He makes me laugh when I am too serious. He is the calm voice of reason when I am in a frenzy. He knows me better than I know myself most days. He is the one I will grow old with and the one who will have my heart forever.

I smile when I think about our wedding day, but even more so when I think about our first date.  It was on that first date that he asked me to marry him.  In complete shock, I smiled and laughed out loud.  So thankful all these years later he wasn’t kidding after all.



Candid shot on our wedding day - April 6, 1991
 
 
 23rd wedding anniversary - April 6, 2014