This is the first moment I’ve had to breathe a bit since the awful of last week. And lookie here. It’s Thursday. Two days left to complete major projects, get the house in order for company, think about packing (laundry/shopping), wedding hair this weekend, arrange for kitty care and then BOOM. It’ll be Cousinpalooza.

I couldn’t be more ready.

Work is gearing up and I’m going 90 to nothing and today is the first day I feel THIS close to finishing a task. I was there past 6:30 and would’ve probably stayed later but Julie and I had free passes to see The Heat with Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy. I laughed so hard.

It was exactly what I needed.

So work is busy. Next week is the first week of our shut-down/intense training/let’s all get on the same page and go forward kind of thing. My trip was already on the books when they hired me so I’ll miss the last two and a half days of it. My presentation will be Monday. Lordy.

I got to spend a little time with Bill Guy last night. He was in the state for all of 48 hours and luck had it so that I got about 2 of those hours. I do love that man. We talked hard and fast and soaked it all in. He met Mark, and we talked of when he retires back in Norman and the grand days we have ahead. God willing.

I love my job.

Life is good.

I’m ready for a routine that holds more time for friends. Right now I have to go because this fat kitty is insisting I make some time for him.

 

There is a motion that comes with death.

Slightly forward.

Slightly back.

Breathing when you remember. Releasing the breath caught in your throat.

Making choices. I dont know what do you think I think it should we might need to why wont it maybe we could I don’t care what do you think. . .

and on and on and on.

Exhaustion has set in.

I’m seeing that there is real food being ingested, some nutrition and water and tequila all being applied.

Tomorrow I leave here early enough to be in OKC at 9:30 for an all day planning retreat. Back here again early Friday morning for the evening service.

Back to OKC early Saturday for an all day volunteer training session.

We have the next week covered with family in attendance. We’ll figure out the rest.

Forward motion. Because even when it seems profoundly impossible…

the Earth turns.

Aaaaaaaand Friday! Now I understand why Cindy always says, “I don’t want this post to be about how thankful I am for the weekend…but I’m thankful for the weekend.”

I understand the relief for Friday these past few weeks like no other time. I won’t always have Saturday off, next week we will be hosting a GS-University all day at Council to prepare and motivate our volunteers. But this weekend it is good.

I felt like I didn’t get much done this week. I feel like Ive really only been managing to get up and get to work and to work and to come home and eat and collapse. Between trying to split my time between Norman house and here, trying to work on tasks and get the house in shape…ugh. I’m failing at most of it except for work.

It’s a learning curve and I’m okay with that. I’ll get the house sold. I’ll get moved to Norman. I will find office space there and I will get it all together.

This week I sat before a panel of United Way to defend our grant, I met one of my CST Managers and had a great visit with her, I took free daycamp flyers down to tornado shelters and saw so many standing in line at the Salvation Army relief center. I took a few different turns and wound up in the thick of the disaster area, much more than can be seen from the Interstate. I read letters from Girl Scouts across the nation sending support. I’ve thought every morning walking into the office “I Love This Job”

Today I get to head out to Camp Cookieland and hang with the girls for the morning. It’s our daycamp and there is much ado about camp! I myself love camp. I loved it when I was little and I love it now. Though the activities are vastly different, the basic element is the same. It’s about fellowship with friends. Connecting with people on a different level, away from the things of man.

I’m ready for that. I look forward to our music festivals that are on the calendar. I look forward to Cousinpalooza at the end of this month. I look forward to this weekend, too. And spending time with friends, and making progress on this house with Mark tomorrow.

I’m thankful that today is employee appreciation day, too! *payday

Happy Friday, Ya’ll!

I’ve been awake since 3am.

I was so exhausted when I got home from work I just flopped and fell asleep early. But it wasn’t good sleep. My bed is wrecked. My whole house is wrecked. I’ve got piles of clothes to get rid of at the garage sale. Stacks of things to donate. I want to show the house this weekend to a potential seller and it’s just not in any kind of shape right now. So my brain focused on all of that over and over and over last night. Over. and Over. I was cold then I was hot and then my pillows felt like rocks so I just got up and gave up.

I’m ready to sell this house. I want to have the time it is going to take to get it ready TO sell. I don’t know where that time is.

I do know where it isn’t. It’s not in Norman. It’s not at the house I want to be in. It’s not tinkering with the new trailer.

There’s the rub.

Most all of the restlessness is stemming from what my day holds today.

I’ll be attending the funeral of the 9 year old Girl Scout that lost her life in the tornado.

I’ve been to one infant/child funeral before.

I never want to do it again. Ever.

So there is the anxiety.

Sunday is my first G.S. community event and I’ve been preparing for that but the unknown is still there, and I’m restless over that too. Usually we can take adjusted time for weekend work, but Monday morning brings a big Strategic Planning meeting and I’ve been placed on a GAP Team regarding branding/social media etc and truly, I’m excited about working on that…

I also have a niggling feeling in the back of my brain about a few friends. They have basically just dropped off the radar. My feelings are it’s always my fault. I’m busy. I haven’t reached out enough. I haven’t touched base. So that’s in my head, too…

I put out a call for someone to deep clean this house and got back a name from Bill. It’ll be a win/win situation once I get things picked up and put up. This is a time for working smarter and I’m fine with paying someone to clean. Fine with it.

The weather has been nuts again this week. High threat of tornado potential, much talk of being weather-aware in central Oklahoma. The effects are far reaching. My hips and joints are achy, things feel…restless and unsettled.

Writing it out, getting it all out of my brain helps. Coffee helps. Watering my flowers and packing another sack of stuff to take to Norman also helps.

This day will soon enough pass…the tears and emotions will subside. Comfort awaits.

Here’s hoping that whatever your weekend holds, that it is a rest-FULL one for you.

 

We got this little beauty last night.

Our neighbor and friend Julie told us about this teardrop that had been handmade by an artist friend of hers that had recently passed away. His daughter was working through the estate and the guy who had first dibs missed the deadline on it and hey! Would we like it?

He went to check it out first.

I felt like this would be like taking me to the pound and saying, pick the one animal that really works best for your life.

Whatever. I want them all.

Still, trying to not get our hopes up, I made no promises about any of it.

It might not be our teardrop trailer.

 

So he went to check it out and be all engineer-y about it. Waterproof? Design? Structurally sound? Safe?

Check to all of the above.

What about the inside? Will we both fit comfortably?

Most importantly…is it going to feel like a coffin?

It might not be our teardrop trailer…

 

It passed all of his initial inspections and when the first dibs guy didn’t make contact by the deadline I got the text…”it’s ours if we want it.”

So I drove down, and walking up to it I thought…”no way in hell we are fitting into that and I’m not clawing my way out ala Buffy”

But we got in. And closed the doors. And we fit. It was deceptively roomy.

And we looked at each other and smiled.

This is our teardrop trailer.

Neither one of us has a hitch on our suvs, once again Julie came to our rescue and with a little luck and a whole lotta Mark-power, it is now in our driveway in Norman. (well today he manhandled it into the garage due to the storms)

The back is going to be redesigned, and the interior is going to get super cozy and cute. There are many adventures and music festivals and fun times in our future.

This lil trailer will be a witness to all of it.

She doesn’t have a name yet. . . officially.

But I’ve been calling her Lucy in my head.

#quietlife

 

With the past week being what it was, and bringing what it brought, thoughts of comfort are in the front of my mind lately. Searching for, finding, and giving comfort,  both physically and mentally has become a state pastime. It is a two way street, Comfort. It feels as good to give, some need to give just as heavily as some need to receive it. In all forms, and definitions.

————————————————————

Kikimama got sick last year. I felt the lump and mostly it was what I thought of a scar tissue that had built up around her hysterectomy scar. Then it began to really grow. It bothered her to the fact that she would lick it and worry it. We went to the Dr, finally, and it was a pretty dramatic thing. This was a rapid growing cancer. But we could take it out. It would be fine. So that’s what we did.

Less than a full year later, it was back. It was back and it was fastly growing and showing up in places it had never been before. She had started peeing all over the house. Sometimes she would make it to the box, sometimes just outside, sometimes not even close. There was a really strange transition happening between the three cats in this home. She was sleeping more and more and in my heart, I knew something was bad and we need to see the Dr. That appointment left me hopeless. It was the cancer. It was so fiercely invasive that we probably had about 8 weeks left. There would come a time and I would know it.
So we came back home. I was spending more and more time in Norman, home to love on her, give her fresh food and water, pet her while she slept the days away. We lasted till the week after LTYM:OKC. The day of my final final at school, I took the test then went home to get the babe.

In the vet’s office, the staff were quiet, they offered up comfort, alongside precise instruction as to what would happen. Kleenex and procedure. It was so apparent that when I laid Kiki on the table that she was so done. She was so so so done. There wasn’t a more clear sign from her to I that this was the best thing.

I cried. I wept. I drove straight to Norman.

I stopped off at a Feed & Seed that had some plants and did some self soothing. I got home and there he was sitting on the front steps waiting on me. He had taken off work early and had offered to actually go with me, as had many, but it was my deal and I wanted to go home. And there he was. We planted my plants, we walked in the misty rain along our street and talked of future plans for our house, we walked to campus corner for some delicious comfort food that came in the form of pasta and sauce. We came home, and held onto each other throughout the night. It was done. But it was better.

———————————————————————-

This past week involved trying to track down each and every girl and troop member and volunteer to see if a) they were alive and b) if we could help in any way. We assembled a hodge – podge attempt at a list that becomes more refined with each new day. We are sending girls to camp. We are providing food for a funeral. We assembled about 30 troops and volunteers and about 4 staff who gave their Sunday of Memorial Weekend to attend the community prayer service and hand out programs, hand out backpacks, hand out stuffed animals to the children attending. The Girl Scouts offering comfort, handling themselves with grace and dignity in all of the situations that happen when many are producing an event, and not doing it so well. I was so so proud of them.

As we were leaving, we all saw Jenny the Therapy Dog laying in the floor outside the sanctuary offering up some doggie love. I immediately got down on the floor and soaked up some love. She was a leaner. Jenny the Therapy Dog knows the phrase Lean IN and help your fellow sisters. She leaned me right out of my shoe. Delightful.

The bus ride from the church to the staging center that was an evaucated mall just a few minutes north, was given to us by school bus drivers from all over the state. This couple drove up from a little town called Cache. It’s several hours southwest of where we were. They did that to offer what they could, drove people to get some comfort at this prayer service. It was a long day, and there they were, taking us back to our cars.

As I walked off the bus, fresh red roses that were leftover from the ceremony in my one hand, t-shirts that were in the other along with my purse I looked up and there stood Mark. Not waiting in the car listening to the radio. Not in the car with it running at the nearest exit. There he stood. Outside of the car. At the closest edge of the place not marked by the National Guard. He picked the things out of my hand, got me into the car and took me home.

“you all looked like a bunch of exhausted refugees, getting off of that bus.”

I had cried so long, and hadn’t eaten since 10am (it was after 8pm) so my headache was tremendous. He drove me home so I could change, then we went for dinner. Yeah it was late. We didn’t care. Home. Bed. Safe. Comfort.

______________________________________________

During these past few months, telling a story has become a theme in my life. With LTYM:OKC and the ripples that are still coming out of that experience, I think we all got it. Got IT. Telling our story is a vital and NECESSARY experience. It is needed. These stories are valid. And by telling them, we extend a branch of acceptance where we didn’t know one was needed, we offer a blanket of comfort to someone we’ve never met. By telling our stories, they become valid and warranted and perhaps open a gateway into healing.

Sunday afternoon, there were stories. We were overstaffed, and that meant many moments standing and say Hi, and Welcome. Many immediately launched into their story.

“I worked at Plaza Towers. My daughter taught at Plaza Towers. I represent both of us today.”

“I was driving a school bus and they said you have to turn around and take cover”

“I was just inside that 7-11”

“We drove two days from Sandy Hook and are here with two trucks full of supplies.”

 

Comfort comes in every size, in every flavor. The need to comfort, to give someone in crisis a little hope has seized our state. We received a letter from Girl Scout troops in Abu Dabi telling us to expect letters and cards from them soon. It is a humbling experience to see it happen en masse.

It is even more humbling with you see the smallest of gestures, leaving work early or standing on the corner waiting for a bus to unload.

I hope that this week you have an opportunity to offer comfort. And if your heart is hurting, in any way, I pray that you are on the other end of something like this. Some hug,  or some laughter, or some cheese or a walk in the rain.

Sunday was a day that was hot and humid but perfect for working on outdoor projects. I was in Norman and had gone to the big store ostensibly to get a “few things” and came home with an entire back car full of plants, planters and dirt. I needed to do some digging after my first week of work, needed to just try to be normal for a bit. Mark was running around assembling things for the first Summer Breeze concert. We were all watching the weather which we had been assured would flair up about 3pm in the afternoon.

We had inquiries all day long as to the Summer Breeze. John Fullbright was the talent that night, and we fully expected to fill the park to the max for this concert. At some point, the clouds did roll in, Mark came home, weather tv was on and things started to spark. The show was officially cancelled. We had sirens, and the first was really close to our house before it traveled east and tore all hell up in Shawnee. Knowing that it was past us, I was just watching and commenting on the weather tv I was watching and went to bed early. The next day was Monday and I had to go to work and was worried about that morning commute from Norman. Monday was day 5 on the job and I wanted to be fresh and ready for everything.

Monday morning the sober fact came to me that part of my district had been hit. The Shawnee area is my area. I got the names of my Community Service Team Managers for the area and made phone calls to check on them, and introduce myself. No one was really worried about it, they didn’t have any reports of girls in crisis, or troops in crisis. Ok. Well. Ok.

And then noon came, and the weather started to change. I forget what it’s like to work with a group of women in a different age demographic. The anxiety levels go way up. Several that I work with are not from Oklahoma and this make Springtime weather even more awful for them. Things started to pop up on our computers, warnings, hail cores. We were allowed to leave early. I drove home in scary rains and some hail, thanking God I wasn’t headed to Norman. (If I was to have already lived in Norman, I wouldn’t have left) I got home and turned on the tv and Mark called me immediately. One the threat was past us in the Village, Lynn came over. We watched. We watched and watched.

Newcastle, Moore, it was being eaten alive before our eyes by the biggest, scariest thing that will fill our nightmares for years to come. (I have tornado nightmares all the time)

Talking on the phones before Norman lost all power/internet/cell service (they are five minutes south of the disaster) I said to Mark…”it’s my entire district. Between yesterday and today, my whole district has been affected.” We both just kept saying , “no. No no No Moore, not again, no please not again.”

Emails with supervisors throughout the evening placed me at the emergency GS disaster meeting the next morning instead of at programming with the girls as originally assigned. I had been given reports and reports and more reports, none of them I could read as I haven’t been trained on our system yet. Tuesday was day 6 on the job.

Massive amounts of information was needed, I was the point person on the task as they were my people, I was so worried at the potential for loss of life, the loss of all of it and yet I had no idea who these people were, what names were my CST Managers, where they lived. I had reports of names and groups and labels (sort of ) of volunteers/leaders/groups etc…and addresses. I sent those to Mark and he geo-mapped them, pinned each one, then circled the tornado’s path. We started with those names.

Eventually we formed a list of those ok.

We needed a list of those that were not.

Each hour was another thing needed that I didn’t know how to do. Each hour was another request for information that I didn’t have an answer for. I knew it was out there, I knew that in a few weeks I would be trained in how to get it…just not today. Today was still day 6.

The next day I was scheduled into all day meetings with my supervisor and the other CDE’s for our state. Each girl looked at me with that , “holy crap girl, your week…let me know if I can help you” It was a great time to know who our team is. We got a ton of info thrown at us, I was pretty much the only one who just put it into a stack and thought…I will understand you someday.” In our inner-departmental meeting I introduced myself because I was new, then rolled right into a report on my troops/volunteers in crisis, where we were on crafting our message of relief, our plan of action, what we still didn’t know and that I was working as hard as I could to find that information.This was my 7th day and I needed some training on so much more. That day, we also found the name of two girls who died in the Plaza Towers Elementary School. One girl, JaNae, was a former Girl Scout, enrolled in our in-school program in 2012. Sweet sweet smiling baby girl.  My left eye started twitching that day.

Thursday I was at programming for the morning with some 9th grade girls from US Grant. I was exhausted. I drank wine with Amy the night before and it restored my soul, but exacerbated my mental and physical exhaustion. They were some squirrley kids, for sure. It was pouring down rain, so we were confined to a virtual tour in a classroom. Not nearly as fun. LUNCH and the free snowcones however proved a delight. At any opportunity I talked to them about school and future. We had many future cosmetologists in our group. The fact that I was one, and had some degrees, and had done a few things like be an actor professionally, own a bookshop, work behind the stage, etc was kind of mind boggling. But then at the end of the program, one of the girls left this comment on the blog.

I really liked that I learned a bunch of ways to start my future for college. I really enjoyed my group leader Misti, she accomplished everything she wanted, so that gives me a reality check that so can I. I liked the part where we ate snow cones, quite yummy! Ha ha. I enjoyed the mentor at the beginning of the program, she was very enthusiastic. Today was overall a five out five stars.

 

Back at the office I was meeting with our CEO and putting together our lists of girls and families in crisis in my area. Talking about each of them, talking about our plans for relief. Shannon got the number of a relative to the girl that died. I knew this would be a horrible phone call and went back to my cubicle across from her office.

Speaking to the child’s great grandmother, knowing the child and lost her mother just a year ago, this family had been through so much…The things I heard were “we want to help. The Girl Scouts are here for you. Let us provide the food for the funeral. The servers too. . . . no. She was a member in 2012. But once a Girl Scout always a Girl Scout.”

That was when I put my head down and cried.

I listened a bit more. I’ll be at the funeral a week from today. GS is making plans to help on so many levels. The relief we can offer comes in many forms. Camperships to those girls that just need to get away for some fun. Replacement uniforms and Journey books, these things we will discover are needed when school starts and everything is still…gone. I had clarity and made my own plan and reached out to my CST managers and formed a plan with them. I knew that we would have a Friday morning with more information than we had on Monday. I knew that we would be prepared for what was coming, and that the support was, unlike the cookies, never ending.

This was the 8th day.

And on the 8th day…I knew what it really meant to be a part of this organization. I knew what it meant to be a Girl Scout.

 

 

 

My friend Shannon left this post on my Facebook this week. I cried then. I cry when I tell people about it now.

Shannon Patricia posted toMisti Pryor
Wednesday via mobile
As I stalk your page watching for Girl Scout updates I am over come with joy. I see your smiling face making so many memories for those young souls and I am taken back to your LTYM story. Now you’re dressing up and playing Momma on a daily bases. They are lucky to have you and the zest you have for life.