What a terrifying 24 hours we've had here in Oklahoma! I just can't believe that it all really happened!
When the May 3, 1999 tornado hit, I was just a few days away from graduating high school. I was worried about my grandparents and my cousins and aunts and uncles who lived in Midwest City, Moore, and Norman. Luckily they were all safe and no one was hurt or lost their homes. I never would have dreamed that four years later I would marry someone whose parents lost their home in that very tornado. And that just a few short months after we were married, another tornado would rip through the same town, taking businesses and homes again.
The May 10, 2003 tornado came awfully close to my new in-laws' home yet again, only missing by a few streets. I was pregnant with Alex at the time, and Ryan was stuck on the highway trying to get home. This was the same highway that the tornado jumped and destroyed more homes and businesses. This was also before Ryan owned a cell phone, so I had no way of knowing whether he was alive or not until he walked through the door to our apartment. Alex was born just 2 short months later, so just imagine the panic I was going through: my husband might be trapped on the highway (it was shut down because of what was going on), my in-laws were in the direct path of the tornado, and I had no real safe place to go except to stand in the hallway of our downstairs apartment. I was pregnant and terrified.
I have always hated tornadoes, but I hate them even more now.
Just ten years after that terrifying experience, I was sitting across the state worried about my family who lives in the area. My cousin's children attend one of the two schools that was destroyed yesterday. My cousin's husband went and picked up his three children, all of whom are close in age to my own children, and took them to safety at my grandparents' home in Midwest City. Luckily, Grandma and Grandpa have a saferoom in their home, so everyone was gathered there. Jose, my cousin's husband, then went back to the scene and helped rescue workers dig people out of the rubble. Some of the children he helped pull out were classmates of his children. He also helped pull out their middle son's teacher. I just can't even imagine.
My in-laws were all safe, but we were out of touch for awhile. The tornado hit just a mile south of the elementary school where my sister-in-law teaches. It was headed straight for her school before it made a turn to the right. If it hadn't turned, it would have hit her school, the high school where my niece was, and then probably the junior high where my other niece was. Praise the Lord for that small twist of fate!
I'm bawling right now just thinking about the very close calls our family has experienced in the last 24 hours. There was another tornado that ripped through the Ramona/Vera area. I have an aunt and a great-uncle and great-aunt who live right near where this tornado was. They are all safe and okay. Praise the Lord!
This is the nature of tornadoes. They are unpredictable. People can say what they want, but the truth of the matter is: we know there's a possibility, we know that they will happen, we just don't know when or how destructive they will be. We can get pretty close to the timeline, but tornadoes are tricky, mysterious beasts. Like the one yesterday, they can drop down, destroy things in their path, and then disappear. They can be headed in a straight line or they can turn for no reason whatsoever. I will never understand tornadoes. But, if you're like me and you've lived in Oklahoma your whole life, you have to respect them. They are terrifying, unpredictable monsters. They can rip people's lives apart in seconds. And they can leave homes and businesses untouched just a few feet away from utter destruction.
As Moore rebuilds, all of Oklahoma will join together. We did it before, and we'll do it again. That's who Oklahoma is. That's what we are about. We are a family. As someone else said, we may not have fancy attractions or be pretty to look at, but we are an incredible close-knit community (the whole state). We take care of each other.
So, for now, we must remember to just breathe. Support those who lost loved ones. Lift up those parents in prayer whose babies were taken away from them yesterday. Donate your time, money, and anything else you can spare. We will come together and rebuild.
But, first, let's just breathe.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
Growing Up
As I sit here in the living room watching my kids talking with each other, I am amazed at how quickly they seem to have turned into "big kids." I know they are only turning 8 and 10 this summer, but they aren't those little toddlers anymore. They have real conversations. They watch real movies, not just extended cartoons. They read books without any help anymore. They actually read to us instead of it being the other way around. And it feels like I just blinked and this all happened.
I always thought my parents and grandparents were being dramatic when they said that it seems like we grew up way too fast, right before their eyes. I never really understood that because it always felt like time stood still for me growing up. My summer days seemed to be endless. And magical. And it always felt like the times between years seemed to just creep by, not like my parents described it at all. But now that I'm a parent, it seems that they were right. Before I knew it, my son was finishing his 3rd grade year in school and my daughter was finishing her 1st grade year. Before I knew what hit me, my daughter was reading chapter books, and my son was writing in cursive. Where did the time go?!?
Wasn't it just yesterday when Reesey was stuck under her bed telling us, "I need some help!" and telling Uncle Larry not to boss her? Wasn't it just yesterday when Alex was telling us that Larry Bird pooped in his diaper and crying when we made him give back the football at the Fall Festival at church? Didn't that just happen? Where did my babies go? And who gave them permission to turn into these big kids with missing teeth and extremely vivid imaginations?
One thing I am ever grateful for is the fact that my children are best friends. They fight, don't get me wrong. But they love each other so very much that the fighting only lasts a few moments. I didn't have that growing up. While Alex and Reese's arguments are an "every once in awhile" thing, my brother and I fought all the time. Our moments of playing well with each other were more "every once in awhile." I hate that. We had some good times, like riding our bikes up and down Million Dollar Hill or playing football and baseball in the yard with the boys from neighboring houses. I love those memories. I only wish they weren't book-ended with memories of constant bickering and avoidance of each other all together. I'm glad that Alex and Reese aren't like that. I've tried my hardest to make sure they aren't because I didn't want Reese to grow up wishing her brother liked her or wanted to play with her, like I did.
Something that may seem odd to many is that, while my brother and I didn't get along growing up, he always had my back. And vice versa. If I was dealing with a jerk boyfriend, my brother would always offer to straighten him out. He warned me not to date certain boys because he knew what they were after, even if they were some of his best friends. When he was dealing with an awful girlfriend at school, one who was trying to spread rumors about him, I came unglued! I walked up to her (I was a freshman; she was a junior) and told her to shut her mouth or I'd do it for her. And I meant it.
When my basketball coach, who was also his senior class sponsor, died during my sophomore year, we shared a rare moment together in the hallway at school. We had gotten to school a little late that day, so we didn't see everyone acting all weird and sad. My first hour class happened to be Coach Kennedy's sophomore English class. When a fellow student asked if I'd heard the news, I was devastated. I had to leave the classroom because I couldn't keep myself composed. When I walked out into the hallway, I looked up to see my brother at the other end. I walked to him, no words being spoken, and we ended up just standing there hugging. I knew what he was thinking. He knew what I was thinking. Neither one of us said a word. It wasn't a long embrace, but it is one of the most meaningful experiences I've had with my brother. Ever. We were never affectionate with each other, but it felt so natural to me at the time. He probably doesn't even remember that moment, but it is etched in my brain just as clear as if it happened yesterday.
When I found out I was pregnant with Alex, he called me to see how I was doing. He played that quintessential "big brother" role, telling me that I didn't have to do anything I didn't feel comfortable with, and that he would support any decision I made. It meant everything to me to know he had my back yet again.
I just see siblings who are incredibly close to each other, and always have been, and I'm extremely jealous. I wish that we had that relationship. I love my brother. I always have. I've always wanted him to like me, to be proud of me. I'll just settle for helping my children to be that way for each other. I don't want them to doubt the other's feelings. I want them to know for sure that the other loves them, is proud of them. And if my brother and I ever get to a point in our adult relationship where we have a more consistent relationship, one with more frequent conversation or visits, then I will count myself incredibly blessed. If not, I'll know what I know. I've come to terms with the fact that we have the relationship we're going to have. I will always have his back, and I know he'll always have mine. No questions asked. We may not talk much. We may not see each other very often. But he's my big brother, and I can always count on him if I ever get into a situation where I need him. And vice versa.
I always thought my parents and grandparents were being dramatic when they said that it seems like we grew up way too fast, right before their eyes. I never really understood that because it always felt like time stood still for me growing up. My summer days seemed to be endless. And magical. And it always felt like the times between years seemed to just creep by, not like my parents described it at all. But now that I'm a parent, it seems that they were right. Before I knew it, my son was finishing his 3rd grade year in school and my daughter was finishing her 1st grade year. Before I knew what hit me, my daughter was reading chapter books, and my son was writing in cursive. Where did the time go?!?
Wasn't it just yesterday when Reesey was stuck under her bed telling us, "I need some help!" and telling Uncle Larry not to boss her? Wasn't it just yesterday when Alex was telling us that Larry Bird pooped in his diaper and crying when we made him give back the football at the Fall Festival at church? Didn't that just happen? Where did my babies go? And who gave them permission to turn into these big kids with missing teeth and extremely vivid imaginations?
One thing I am ever grateful for is the fact that my children are best friends. They fight, don't get me wrong. But they love each other so very much that the fighting only lasts a few moments. I didn't have that growing up. While Alex and Reese's arguments are an "every once in awhile" thing, my brother and I fought all the time. Our moments of playing well with each other were more "every once in awhile." I hate that. We had some good times, like riding our bikes up and down Million Dollar Hill or playing football and baseball in the yard with the boys from neighboring houses. I love those memories. I only wish they weren't book-ended with memories of constant bickering and avoidance of each other all together. I'm glad that Alex and Reese aren't like that. I've tried my hardest to make sure they aren't because I didn't want Reese to grow up wishing her brother liked her or wanted to play with her, like I did.
Something that may seem odd to many is that, while my brother and I didn't get along growing up, he always had my back. And vice versa. If I was dealing with a jerk boyfriend, my brother would always offer to straighten him out. He warned me not to date certain boys because he knew what they were after, even if they were some of his best friends. When he was dealing with an awful girlfriend at school, one who was trying to spread rumors about him, I came unglued! I walked up to her (I was a freshman; she was a junior) and told her to shut her mouth or I'd do it for her. And I meant it.
When my basketball coach, who was also his senior class sponsor, died during my sophomore year, we shared a rare moment together in the hallway at school. We had gotten to school a little late that day, so we didn't see everyone acting all weird and sad. My first hour class happened to be Coach Kennedy's sophomore English class. When a fellow student asked if I'd heard the news, I was devastated. I had to leave the classroom because I couldn't keep myself composed. When I walked out into the hallway, I looked up to see my brother at the other end. I walked to him, no words being spoken, and we ended up just standing there hugging. I knew what he was thinking. He knew what I was thinking. Neither one of us said a word. It wasn't a long embrace, but it is one of the most meaningful experiences I've had with my brother. Ever. We were never affectionate with each other, but it felt so natural to me at the time. He probably doesn't even remember that moment, but it is etched in my brain just as clear as if it happened yesterday.
When I found out I was pregnant with Alex, he called me to see how I was doing. He played that quintessential "big brother" role, telling me that I didn't have to do anything I didn't feel comfortable with, and that he would support any decision I made. It meant everything to me to know he had my back yet again.
I just see siblings who are incredibly close to each other, and always have been, and I'm extremely jealous. I wish that we had that relationship. I love my brother. I always have. I've always wanted him to like me, to be proud of me. I'll just settle for helping my children to be that way for each other. I don't want them to doubt the other's feelings. I want them to know for sure that the other loves them, is proud of them. And if my brother and I ever get to a point in our adult relationship where we have a more consistent relationship, one with more frequent conversation or visits, then I will count myself incredibly blessed. If not, I'll know what I know. I've come to terms with the fact that we have the relationship we're going to have. I will always have his back, and I know he'll always have mine. No questions asked. We may not talk much. We may not see each other very often. But he's my big brother, and I can always count on him if I ever get into a situation where I need him. And vice versa.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Kolby
I was just drifting off to sleep when I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. The only way for me to get these emotions out effectively is to write. I was overcome with thoughts from high school. Thoughts that brought me such joy, yet now fill me with sadness.
Kolby was several years younger than me. She was just beginning to get involved in our youth group at church as I was graduating from high school. The summer after I graduated was filled with many trips to the lake, into Owasso to hang out and eat lunch, and many youth activities. My friend Kristi and I spent a lot of time together that summer. And in that time, we kind of took Kolby under our wings. We wanted her to feel included even though she was so much younger than us. We invited her to the lake with us. We included her in all the fun things we did at Falls Creek. We let her tag along with us in our trip to Big Splash. She was so much fun that the age difference didn't matter.
Kolby was a force to be reckoned with. She was feisty. She was kind. She was stubborn. She was giving. She could be ornery, but she could be so loving at the same time. I miss that. When I was at OU, my mom called and told me that Kolby had gotten really sick and they weren't sure if she was going to make it. I knew she'd pull through. She was too stubborn to be taken so quickly and mysteriously. She did just that. We drifted apart after I left for college. Now, when I think back on it, it really breaks my heart. I have such great memories of that summer spent with Kolby and it could have been more. But I didn't put in enough effort. It makes me sick to think about.
When Kolby got pregnant with her sweet little guy, Madden, I felt connected to her again. I was a young mom, and I knew what it was like to be scared of things to come. We'd connected again through Facebook, and I offered her my advice on things. I don't know how much of it made sense, but it felt good to reconnect with her. She dealt with some rough patches and I offered her a place to stay. She never took me up on it, but she knew that the offer stood, no matter when or why.
And then she was gone. It was June 11th. I went to pick up the kids at my Grandma and Papa's house after we'd closed on our new home. Grandma asked if I knew what happened to Kolby. She then told me what she knew, that the ladies on the Prayer Chain had called and said she'd passed away in her sleep. I thought Grandma was confused. When I acted weird, Grandma started to doubt herself. So, I called their church and asked the secretary if Grandma was mistaken. No. It was true. And the floor dropped out from under me.
I felt guilty for not making more of an effort. She had meant so much to me, yet I never really let her know. She was a big part of my life that summer, and I let it slip away. And now she's gone, and I can't get it back. I can't offer her any advice on her little guy anymore. I can't offer her a place to stay if she needs one. I can't go to the lake, or take random trips to Owasso, or have her tag along to Big Splash anymore. I know she's in a much better place, but I miss her. I am so mad at myself for not trying harder with her.
I don't know. I was just thinking about Kolby and had to get it out. I miss you, sweet girl! But I know I'll see you again one day! Love you!!
Kolby was several years younger than me. She was just beginning to get involved in our youth group at church as I was graduating from high school. The summer after I graduated was filled with many trips to the lake, into Owasso to hang out and eat lunch, and many youth activities. My friend Kristi and I spent a lot of time together that summer. And in that time, we kind of took Kolby under our wings. We wanted her to feel included even though she was so much younger than us. We invited her to the lake with us. We included her in all the fun things we did at Falls Creek. We let her tag along with us in our trip to Big Splash. She was so much fun that the age difference didn't matter.
Kolby was a force to be reckoned with. She was feisty. She was kind. She was stubborn. She was giving. She could be ornery, but she could be so loving at the same time. I miss that. When I was at OU, my mom called and told me that Kolby had gotten really sick and they weren't sure if she was going to make it. I knew she'd pull through. She was too stubborn to be taken so quickly and mysteriously. She did just that. We drifted apart after I left for college. Now, when I think back on it, it really breaks my heart. I have such great memories of that summer spent with Kolby and it could have been more. But I didn't put in enough effort. It makes me sick to think about.
When Kolby got pregnant with her sweet little guy, Madden, I felt connected to her again. I was a young mom, and I knew what it was like to be scared of things to come. We'd connected again through Facebook, and I offered her my advice on things. I don't know how much of it made sense, but it felt good to reconnect with her. She dealt with some rough patches and I offered her a place to stay. She never took me up on it, but she knew that the offer stood, no matter when or why.
And then she was gone. It was June 11th. I went to pick up the kids at my Grandma and Papa's house after we'd closed on our new home. Grandma asked if I knew what happened to Kolby. She then told me what she knew, that the ladies on the Prayer Chain had called and said she'd passed away in her sleep. I thought Grandma was confused. When I acted weird, Grandma started to doubt herself. So, I called their church and asked the secretary if Grandma was mistaken. No. It was true. And the floor dropped out from under me.
I felt guilty for not making more of an effort. She had meant so much to me, yet I never really let her know. She was a big part of my life that summer, and I let it slip away. And now she's gone, and I can't get it back. I can't offer her any advice on her little guy anymore. I can't offer her a place to stay if she needs one. I can't go to the lake, or take random trips to Owasso, or have her tag along to Big Splash anymore. I know she's in a much better place, but I miss her. I am so mad at myself for not trying harder with her.
I don't know. I was just thinking about Kolby and had to get it out. I miss you, sweet girl! But I know I'll see you again one day! Love you!!
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