Impact

So many times I think we forget about the impact that we make on others on a daily basis and the impact that others have on us. Lately I've been thinking a lot about the butterfly effect and my freshman and sophomore years of high school. For those of you not familiar with the term, Wikipedia defines the butterfly effect as:

In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions; where a small change at one place in a nonlinear system can result in large differences to a later state. The name of the effect, coined by Edward Lorenz, is derived from the theoretical example of a hurricane's formation being contingent on whether or not a distant butterfly had flapped its wings several weeks before.

Although the butterfly effect may appear to be an esoteric and unusual behavior, it is exhibited by very simple systems: for example, a ball placed at the crest of a hill might roll into any of several valleys depending on slight differences in initial position.

The butterfly effect is a common trope in fiction when presenting scenarios involving time travel and with "what if" cases where one storyline diverges at the moment of a seemingly minor event resulting in two significantly different outcomes.

Basically it the thought that one little, seemingly minor, occurrence can have lasting impact on the world around us. This thought is extremely apparent today.

Last night I helped a friend with a Christmas party and was out late and very tired when I got home. I noticed on facebook on my phone that a few people had posted in a group that I am an admin on. This wasn't too unusual as people post in this group quite frequently. This morning I woke up and saw that something like 26 people had posted since the night before. I knew something had to be up and I knew it was probably not good.

This particular group is called "Thank you, Stan Stevenson" and it is a group that started as a way for people to express their gratitude to a wonderful man. Much as I feared when I looked at facebook this morning I was correct in the feeling that I had deep in the pit of my stomach: Stan had passed away yesterday afternoon. Since I wasn't really on facebook I had not seen the outpouring of grief from my high school friends and somehow I had not gotten a text about this (which is really fine because I would have broken down at the party last night).

Stan Stevenson was my high school band director. If you know me then you know that I do not have a musical bone in my body, yet somehow I ended up in band and show choir (high school is weird like that). My best friend was in band in middle school and then in high school joined the color guard. Seeing that she was my best friend, my freshman year I ended up hanging out with all her band friends, most of which were older than us. I had the best times of my life with these people. As the months wore on I ended up helping out with winter guard and ended up on many, many bus trips. Then my junior year I joined guard too and was officially in band. (I'm still wondering how this all happened.)

I would not trade those memories for anything. As I became better and better friends with all of these "band nerds" I also got to know Stan. Stan was the best guy you could ever imagine. His daughter Katie was a year older than me and we were close friends. Stan was the kind of guy that was like a dad to everyone. If you were in any way connected to the band you were one of his "kids."

There were honor roll students and kids that never saw an A on a report card.
There were kids that were outgoing and kids that were ridiculously shy.
There were natural born leaders and those that needed to be pulled out of their shell.
There were popular kids and not so popular kids.
Some had no musical talent and some were destined to keep playing forever.
But they were all Stan's kids.

Whoever you were Stan cared about you. You might have drove him a little crazy at times (you know who you are), but he always cared. He was a constant throughout high school and even after. He always encouraged his kids to do their best. He showed them what they could accomplish and how worthy they were of feeling good about themselves. He was so much more than a teacher and a band director. He was the kind of person that every kid should have it their life during a time that can be dramatic, messy and emotionally damaging.

If you have never experienced what it is like to have 100+ brothers and sisters, all of which you loved and hated at some point during the year, but who you would stand up for no matter what was going on, then you have certainly missed out. I look back at my high school years and know that I can pick up the phone and call any one of them and know that I will still have a friend. How many people can say that they still talk to their high school friends on a weekly, if not daily, basis sixteen years later? Stan made that happen. He had this power to pull this rag-tag group of kids together into an amazing family.

I have so memories with these people that I could write all day. I will spare you that, for now, and probably will pick it up later. One I would like to share was the summer after my freshman year of high school. Everyone always is ready to get out of school when that day in May rolls around. Most people want as far away from the building as possible. If you were in band at Ardmore High School that was simply not the case, though. Our drum line practiced all the time and that summer they did concerts every week, on Tuesday, I think. Not only would the drummers show up, but all the rest of us would pile into the band room and listen to the new cadences that they were learning. C-los (my fav), and Peanut Butter and Jelly and so many more. Now I will admit that there always seemed to be a drummer that I had a "thing" for and that probably made me show up a little more, but hey, what can you do?

The other thing that was pretty amazing about this group was that a section of them put together a jazz band, Java Jazz, that played at Kimberlee's By the Cup in our local mall. These kids just put this together themselves, found a "gig" and we all showed up every Saturday to listen to them and hang out.

Stan instilled such a love of music in my friends that they wanted to keep playing, even though school was out and they didn't have to. That says something.

After learning of the news this morning I was looking at the posts in Thank you, Stan Stevenson, on his personal page, and just throughout statuses amongst my friends. They all said the same thing: how wonderful he was, how he impacted our lives and made us the people we are today. So many times when someone passes away people come out of the wood works to say "nice" things about them, no matter what kind of person they really were. In this case every word is true and we told him all the time. I think that is the one thing that gives me peace in this situation: knowing that we were all very open and honest about our feelings. The posts were not just from kids that I went to school with, but from those that were at the schools before Ardmore and the schools after. One thing remained the same: everyone expressed how much of an impact he made on them.

My last memory of seeing Stan was last fall. I had gone to a football game in Pauls Valley to watch my friend Lisa (also my former high school vocal music teacher)'s son play. One of my friends, Drew, is the band director at Pauls Valley,  having taken over when Stan retired a few years ago. Stan was still an active part of the PVHS band and was at the game. Lisa and I went over and chatted with him for the majority of the third quarter. We were reminiscing and talking about the past and telling funny stories. We were laughing so hard we were crying. While I am sad that I have not seen him in over a year I am so thankful that my last physical memory of him was talking and laughing until we cried. That is exactly how I remember him and how I will continue to remember him.

I think when you look back at high school you might be lucky to have one teacher that might have made a little change in the way you look at life or shaped your world. I look back and realize that I have three. My band director, vocal music director and drama director. (This is why the arts need to stay in schools people!!!! Okay stepping off that soap box.) When I think of how powerful a teacher's influence can be on a child's life I think of these three. What I realize, when looking back, is that not only did they genuinely care about me when I was in school, but they continued to care about me and love me through my life. What started out as a student and teacher turned into a lifetime of friendship. I am sad that there aren't more people that can say that. What I do know is that anyone who was ever one of Stan's kids can say that without hesitation.

I help with a youth group and I love my teens. I'm not a huge fan of small kids, at all, but there is just something about working with teenagers that I adore. They might drive me crazy from time to time (or all the time) but I know what a hard time in life the teen years can be and I know how much I loved my time in high school and I want nothing, but the same from them. I know that this love for this age had to have come, in part, from Stan, Lisa and Carla. I pray that I can have even a fraction of the impact on "my" kids that those three had on me.

I am sad that there are generations of kids that won't get to know what a wonderful man Stan was, but I know that his impact will be lasting through those that he did touch. He made a legacy that will live on forever. Whether to you he was Mr. Stevenson, Stan the Man, Stan, Stev-o, Butch, Papa Stan, or just Dad if you knew him you loved him and knew he loved you and you probably have a story or two that you could tell about him.

Rest in peace Papa Stan. Give Katie a big hug for me. And know that you made a profound impact on my life and I am thankful that I got to be one of your girls.

Stan Stevenson

August 7, 1953 to December 10, 2011

You will be greatly missed.

Faith

As a general rule I don't go too far into Christianity on my blog. I could probably name 100 reasons why (which I won't right now). I am a Christian and that is a fact that I am proud of. I am very sure in my faith, even if I don't spout out verses on facebook every day (not that there is anything wrong with that, just not my style). I am very active with my church (CrossTimbers UMC, you should come try it because it really is the best!). I will probably be the first to invite you to church because I really think it is that great (because it is).

I did not grow up going to church besides the occasional visit on Easter or with a friend, VBS at a few churches most summers and two trips to Falls Creek. It wasn't until my senior year of high school when I went with my two best friends on a random Sunday (and I'm pretty sure it was because two of the three of us felt guilty for something). After church we had lunch at El Chico and ran into our music teacher (my, now, dear friend Lisa) and she said we should come to youth choir at the Methodist church (Crystal regularly went and Heather and I are not going to be winning any talent shows with our singing ability). We went, then we went to youth afterwards. I had been to youth there a few times with Crystal, whose early high school boyfriend was a member. Clearly I loved youth choir because it was Lisa and it never failed, any time I showed up at youth it was some super serious event usually involving the lights being off and candles. That night was the exact same, specifically a feet washing thing. I spent the evening in a room with one of my childhood guy friends talking about God and life and faith and stuff. We were seventeen.

From that night I went to choir and youth every week (if we had perfect choir attendance we were going to see Jekyll and Hyde in Dallas two months later!). We had our first performance at church a few weeks later. We sang a song called "Beyond the Open Door." Until I got to this point in the post I had not heard that song since that day, but I wanted to include a video, so I looked it up and through the marvel that is the internet found it and listened to it again and it was a really, really, really, really fitting song to be the first song I sang in church.

We stayed for most of the service before heading out to Crystal's church. I really enjoyed the service. Kind of surprising for someone who didn't go to church. So the next week instead of going with Heather and Crystal to the Baptist church I went to Sunday school and church at the Methodist church. Don't get me wrong I had a ton of friends there and was making more every week, so it wasn't the craziest thing ever and my friend Katy's dad was the pastor. On the sign in book it asks if you are interested in becoming a member and one week I checked yes. I got a call from the associate pastor and little did I know everything was all kinds of set up for me to join! Before the conversation was over I learned that Katy had already offered to sponsor me! I think it was the next week I joined the church and was baptized (by sprinkling, because one of my issues with the Baptist church my whole life was the submersion process in baptism...it scared the living daylights out of me and I wanted nothing to do with it. To be honest it still freaks me out to think about).

So now I was a full blown Methodist. The summer was spent with all my new (and old) friends at FUMC Ardmore, then going to Chrysalis (which is a story for another post) and some stuff after that and then I headed to college. It was a given that I would go to the Wesley Foundation (United Methodist student center) and I did. I made a lot of friends and got involved very quickly in a Christian sorority, two Bible studies, the freshman group and freshman leadership.

I won't go into all the memories and events from Wesley. There were a lot of friends made and even more lessons learned. I graduated college in 2004 and didn't really have a church home. I had on and off gone with my friend Sarah to a new church in Norman, but it didn't completely stick. In September I started dating a guy at home, so I was all about going home to church any time I could. I love my home church and I still do. The friends that I had in youth morphed into adult friends and I loved seeing them every week. Most were in the choir and I enjoyed going to performances and was very sad that I was in Norman and they were in Ardmore. It was this amazing little group and I so wanted to be a part of it full time and not just part time. At that moment in time I truly thought that I would marry this guy and life would be complete, with me in Ardmore and being a part of that group.

God had other plans. Some stuff happened within that group of friends and then we broke up, again, in May and I started dating someone else, in Norman. When that happened I wanted nothing to do with Ardmore. All the activities that the ex and I had shared interest in were immediately out of my life. I wanted nothing to do with them. I wanted to start this new life in Norman, where I knew my home would be.

My boyfriend and I tried to find a church. We would get into a church mood and try to find something that we agreed on (he was Baptist, me Methodist), but it would last a few weeks and we would stop going for this reason or that reason. I tried, a lot, but nothing ever stuck. That was the first year. Another problem is that I am stubborn. I wanted to go to a Methodist church because I love it. I love the doctrine and the way the conference is set up and the camps and the liturgy and the hymns and everything about it. Hindsight is 20/20 and I probably should have been a little more open minded, but I wasn't.

After we got engaged I met this very nice girl at work and asked why she had moved to Norman (Moore) from Tishomingo. She explained that her husband was asked to start a church, a United Methodist church. Well hot dog! Here was something that we could be a part of from the beginning. Apparently my stubbornness had rubbed off on the fiance and he wasn't having it, however I ended up on the mailing list for "new Moore church" (which is what CrossTimbers was before it was CrossTimbers). Jennifer had applied for several jobs and was offered one a few weeks into her job with me that worked better with her desire to get her Masters, so she left. We were friends on facebook though so we kept in contact, plus I was getting all the church emails.

The next six months were not the best of my life, but they are a very important part of it. If you have been reading my blog for any time you know that we broke up 41 days before the wedding, leaving me sad and broken. At some point during that six months I had watched Fireproof (Christian movie with Kirk Cameron and really bad acting, but a really good story). In the movie the premise is based on a relationship that is in crisis and likely to end in divorce. The main character is challenged to do the Love Dare, a relationship exercise that lasts 40 days and is based on 1 Corinthians 13.

When I woke up the morning after the break up I just KNEW that God wanted me to do the Love Dare. After all it was exactly 40 days until the wedding, so it made perfect sense. I knew that God was a key component that was missing from that relationship and I figured this was His way of telling me that and showing me how to fix it (oh and I am a fixer). So I started it. What came out of it was not us getting back together, but a huge change in me.

Shortly after the break up I messaged Jennifer with what had happened and asking if CrossTimbers (had a name by then!) had anything going on. There was one small group meeting and it wasn't anything I was interested in (again, hindsight is 20/20 and I SO should have jumped on board that one, but oh well, I still needed some time and to learn a few lessons). That was the middle of May. The first Sunday in August was my birthday and it was not a good day, at all. It also happened to be the second to last Sunday that CrossTimbers was meeting in the school where they had been conducting services. They had a building! She invited me to the last Sunday.

The day before that last Sunday the women's group, Breathe, was meeting. Some stuff happened that day that signaled I needed a change. We were supposed to RSVP to the pastor, so I did. Now this is a HUGE thing for me. I HATE calling people. And I really hate calling people I don't know. I don't really like talking on the phone to people I do know. So I called Chris, who probably thought I was nuts at the moment, and who told Jennifer that her friend Wendy from her first Norman job was coming to Breathe that night.

The plan was to make tshirts at one of the girl's houses. Dinner was provided, but we were asked to bring dessert. I whipped up some no bake cookies, because really who doesn't like them? I found the house and drove around until I saw Jennifer's car pull up (I also hate going in places where I don't know people). I met Jennifer in the yard and walked in with her. Well it turns out that I loved the girls. The guys met up with us at the end of the night and they seemed okay too.

The next morning I walked into the school, in a dress, and sat down next to one of the girls I met the night before, whose husband played the drums. Then in walked Valerie and Ashley (JJ's parents) and they came and sat with me. If you ever need someone to make new people feel welcome Valerie is the person. She just loves making new friends. I looked around and noticed I was pretty much the only one in a dress (except, thank God, for Brittany). Then the music started. I have already mentioned drums, there were also electric guitars, not an organ in sight. A bit about me, at that moment, I was NOT a fan of contemporary worship. I like it, but NOT for Sunday morning. Clearly I couldn't just get up and walk out and I was so disappointed because I really liked all the girls I met the night before. I was in a pickle. I just didn't think I could handle this contemporary church, what to do, what to do?

Then Chris did his sermon. It was the second Sunday of the text message sermon series. We got our phones out and looked though our texts and what they said about us and who we were talking to. Well if THAT didn't make me question things then I don't know what would (some of the people I was talking to at the time I should NOT have been talking to). I was so intrigued by his sermon. At the end of service I told Jennifer that exact thing: that at the beginning I didn't think there was any way I could handle contemporary and I fully planned to thank them for their time and never walk back through the doors, but then Chris did his sermon and I was hooked.

If you want to hear what I really thought check out this video from Annual Conference 2010.

When a church meets in a school it means that everything starts in a couple of trailers, is unloaded each Sunday morning, set up, then torn down, and put back in the trailers. Well this Sunday was different because it was going to be torn down, loaded up and then taken to the new building. I didn't have anything better to do so I helped them load up and move to the new building. On my way over I called my friend Mary and told her that I had gone to this new church and I really liked it, but I wasn't going to get super, over involved (because I have a tendency to do that).

I helped unload and was pretty excited about the next Sunday. So....I wasn't going to get over involved? Sunday number two of Wendy at CrossTimbers I talked to Jennifer about starting a prayer card ministry (something my friends and I did at Wesley in college).

Yeah you can pretty much say that was history. I didn't have a prayer of not getting super, over involved. It's just who I am. Oh well. When it comes down to it I do love it. It is very rare for a sermon to be preached that doesn't hit me in some way. I can't count how many times I left church thinking about a sermon and driving and bawling for hours after. Or crying through a song during communion. There is something very, very special about that place. I love the people and the service (I got over my hatred of contemporary service and you can read about that here) and absolutely everything about it. It is an amazing community of amazing people, most of whom are family now. I know that if something happens in the middle of the night I can call Chris bawling and he will be there (though I generally schedule my meltdowns a bit better than that ;)). I have people that call just to check on me and worry about me. I have amazing people that have let me into their families when I really need that.

We come together in joy celebrating weddings and new babies. We are there for each other when things aren't going so well. We come together to support each other. We are learning and growing with this little church.

Today I got a call that rocked my world. It left me in shock and sadness. It is the kind of thing that makes you really question what on earth God is thinking. Yesterday I was struck with the sadness of poor little Jamesie and this one isn't any better. It is another child taken entirely too early.

Through the last two years I have grown immensely in my faith. I may have questioned God's intentions when my wedding was cancelled, but I am completely confident that it was the right thing. I know that everything had to happen exactly the way that it did in order to get me to my ultimate calling. I know my purpose in life. I know what I am meant to do. I am only 29 (at least for a few more weeks) and I know exactly what I was put on this earth to do. If everything hadn't happened the exact way that it did then I wouldn't be here.

I know that these two families that are grieving right now will eventually understand God's plan and why it had to happen the way that it did. I know that and I fully believe that. But even as strong as I am and as much faith as I have I don't understand this. I don't understand why people get so sick and I really don't understand when they are just innocent children. I don't get it. I probably never will. My heart absolutely aches for these families. I don't have any comprehension of how they are handling things right now because it is so far outside of my realm of reality.

Yesterday my sweet friend Karen Chaffin (an Ardmore FUMC friend and mom of two of my high school friends) posted this on her facebook:

I've never forgotten being told that God doesn't give you the ticket for the train until it's time to take a ride. Grace is given as grace is needed. Lysa TerKeurst posted: I am not equipped to handle what others have—both good and bad. I am, on the other hand, completely equipped to handle what I’ve been given. And the more time I spend being thankful for my life, the less I look around wishing for something else.

I cannot imagine a post that could be any more true for what I am feeling right now. I cannot imagine going through the things that these families are going through and I pray that I will never have to, I'm strong, but I don't think there is any way I could ever be that strong. I am aching for people that I don't know and for events that did not directly affect me and I am handling it horribly.

When I have to step up to do things in these situations it is very rare for anyone to see how it is affecting me. I don't cry at funerals. I am the strong one. I have been known to tell people that if they need someone to go to a funeral with them then call me. Death doesn't bother me. Well it bothers me, of course, but I can handle it very well. I have always understood death. Long before developmentally and psychologically I was supposed to. That's how I've always been. Need a meal? I'll cook it. Need a lunch planned? I'm your girl. Need someone to hold your hand while you cry? That's me. I am afraid my track record for this is about to be broken. Honestly I don't know what is going to happen in the next few weeks and I don't know how I will handle it. I fully believe God doesn't give us anything that we can't handle (though sometimes I really wish He didn't trust me so much), but this may be a true test to my faith and my ability to keep it together.

Please say a prayer for these two sweet families. I apologize for not giving details, but it is not my place to do so at this time. You can say a prayer and I promise God knows all the details. Selfishly I also ask that you say a prayer for me in some situations that I will face over the next few weeks. Pray that I am able to be strong for the people that need me.

I just read the most recent post on Jamesie's blog and cannot stop crying. I cannot imagine what they are going through. I can literally feel my heart breaking for them. I want to feel lucky for everything I have in my life, but I am so overcome with emotion for the people that I know are hurting right now that even that is hard to do. Usually when I write it is to release emotion and when I go back and read it I can see how far I have come and it makes me happy. This post is different. This one is full of grief and sadness and emotions that I don't even really understand. I pray for a miracle. That is still possible for one family. Medical science says it is impossible, but nothing is impossible with God. For the other family I pray for peace and healing. I pray that all that know or have been touched by both situations will know peace and comfort. I'm not really to a stopping point, but it is getting very hard to see the computer screen through the tears, so I will end with this:

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

~Hebrews 11:1

It's a Blog, Blog World

I had another post planned for today, something about myself and how and why I feel about other people’s opinions and my own opinions, but some stuff happened and I feel I need to post this more.


I find the entire internet amazing. There are people that I have reconnected with on facebook that I probably never would have seen after elementary school or middle school or high school. I am able to keep in contact with those people and grow our friendships. I think that is awesome. When I started blogging last year I started grabbing up all these blogs to follow. Some of these are people that I actually know in real life and some are people I have never met. Some are people that I knew who they were and now I feel I now better and some have touched my life more than they will probably ever know.

I track my stats on my blog pretty carefully. I am thoroughly entertained and impressed at all the people that read my blog (I would like a lot more though!). If you go into the blogger dashboard you can look and see how many views I have had on my posts and where those views are coming from. I consistently have people from England, India, Russia, South Africa and other places that read my blog. I don’t know if they are just searching for pictures or something and somehow get there and don’t really read it. If you are one of those people and you really do read it send me an email (on the right where it says contact me…yes that’s new!) because I would really love to know.

Some of the blogs I follow are from people I don’t know. They might be a friend of a friend of a friend or someone that one of my blog friends follow and I get intrigued. It depends on the blog as to how many personal details of the blogger’s life are revealed. I’m pretty open about my life and my opinions on my blog. I post pictures of myself and use real names. I don’t post anything that I don’t want people to know, though some things I am more hesitant than others. I find it encouraging when I post something that is particularly personal to me and I get positive feedback of people who agree and people who have been there. It is nice to know that you aren’t the only one that feels this way or that way. I know some people that don’t post personal pictures or cut eyes off or use aliases rather than real names. I don’t see anything wrong with that and that is one of the best things about the blogging world, you can customize your blog to what suits you.

Many times the blogs that I follow are that of people with illnesses. Either starting a blogger blog or one on CaringBridge. Either way when someone is posting these intimate details you cannot help but grow attached to them, whether you have met them or not. The stories that are told become precious to you and you pray for their healing and peace every time you see their blog. That being said I would like to say this: CANCER SUCKS. I read a lot of blogs from people I know and feel like I know about their struggles with cancer. My own personal struggle (my mom had breast cancer in 2005 and is good to go now) was not even close to as difficult as some of these stories I read. We got lucky. Very lucky. Some of these families are not as lucky.

While there isn’t a better or worse cancer story, it sucks no matter the age and status of the person, the ones that absolutely kill me are the children. Many times these stories get passed to me from friends as prayer requests. There have been two that I have been following lately, one is doing well and the other isn’t so much. I read the latest post from the latter at lunch and it just made me sick. This is a child that is so loved and is so, so sick. I am absolutely overwhelmed with emotion from this. I don’t know these people, but I have been impacted so much by this little guy. I pray that there is a miracle and he is completely healed, but I don’t know God’s plan for him. I do know that his story has greatly impacted me.

Last Saturday when I was playing with JJ’s hair and when he fell asleep I couldn’t help but think of this little guy (he has a full head of hair too!). I am beyond grateful that all the kids that are in my circle of friends are healthy. I cannot say enough thanks for that. As I sat there holding JJ at his first birthday party I was able to look around at this amazing support system he has around him. He is a whole year old and is perfect. I don’t know what the future holds for him and I am excited to see. I know how much his parents love him. I know how much I love him and that goes for all the other kids in my life. They might not be biologically related to me, but that doesn’t make them less a part of my family.

My heart is aching as I write this and there are tears falling down my cheeks. I cannot say enough prayers to surround this very sick little boy. I know there are thousands of others praying just as hard for him. I pray for healing for him and peace for his parents no matter the outcome. I may never meet this sweet family, but nonetheless they will forever have an impact on my life. They have reminded me just how lucky I am for everything that I have. They are stronger than I can ever imagine being.

I don’t know what the future holds for this family. I pray it is amazing and wonderful.

I leave you with a verse from the finale of one of my favorite musicals, Wicked. I truly agree with this. I believe that everyone who steps into my life is put there for a reason. Sometimes I don’t figure out those reasons for a long time and sometimes I know immediately. I know that who I am today is because I have known some amazing people in my life.

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...

If you want to read sweet Jamesie’s story click here. Please keep this family in your prayers as they need it now more than ever.

A Celebration

Today I went to the celebration of the life of Soroosh Davani. Soroosh passed away on Christmas day and was the loving husband of one of my college friends, Rosemary. He courageously fought cancer and in his words: "I did not lose my battle with cancer. I won my battle with life by living my life to the fullest."

My first memory of Soroosh had nothing to do with him at all, actually. My freshman year of college I pledged a Christian sorority, Kappa Phi, and one of our first activities was a progressive dinner. One of our stops was Rosemary's apartment. She had this beautiful table scape (on the floor :)) with beautiful linens and dishes (not your typical paper plates) and had all this amazing food, specifically, tabouli and hummus. I grew up going to Jamil's Steakhouse in Tulsa, a steakhouse that also served classic Lebanese food, so I was in heaven with this stuff! Rosemary explained that she had learned the recipes from her boyfriend's mom. When I told my mom about all of this she said I needed to make friends with this girl to learn how to cook this amazing food!

My next memory, and the first of Soroosh himself, was at our Hayride a few weeks later. In walks this couple. The best word I can use to describe them was dashing! They were beautiful! They certainly did not look like they belonged in Norman, Oklahoma; maybe at some fashion show in New York or LA, but not anywhere that I was, for sure! They both had on long leather coats and at least one of them had a fancy hat on. They were just beautiful. I remember seeing them, with my eyes wide open, thinking that there was no way this fancy couple would ever be people I could be friends with; they were just way too sophisticated for this small town girl.

Well this would be an example where first impressions are not always correct. Rosemary and Soroosh were certainly as beautiful and sophisticated as they seemed, but as I got to know them I learned that they were also two of the nicest, most genuine loving people I have, to this day, ever met. It was so easy to see how much they loved each other, even as young as we were (though they never seemed as young as me because they just carried themselves with such maturity).

One of the most interesting things about them is their religion. As previously mentioned, Kappa Phi was a Christian sorority and Rosemary was devoutly Catholic. Soroosh was Muslim. When I have told people about them, in the last week two weeks and since I've known them, people always question how on earth this worked. Both were very strong in their faith, but they had such a respect for each other and each other's faith that it just worked. I know many, many couples that are of the exact same faith that couldn't get it together like Rosemary and Soroosh! They were truly perfectly matched soulmates that were lucky enough to find each other.

I lost track of them for several years in there and then found her on facebook a few years ago, after his diagnosis. I was shocked when I saw it. She sent me a message with the story and it just made me so sad. They married in 2006, after he finished law school and were living in Arizona. It just seemed so unfair. They were beautiful, both inside and out, and had their entire life ahead of them, and then were struck down with this horrible disease. It makes you really step back and think. It makes you think about your own life and mortality and what all we can do with our lives.

His celebration of life, the Norman version, was today. I really hoped to not cry, but I did. Heck, I cry at everything. I would like to think that these were tears of joy knowing that I was lucky to enough to have known this great man; and knowing that I am lucky enough to consider this beautiful, strong, amazing woman a friend and sister.

There were two passages that were said today that really stuck out to me. One was by a deacon from Rosemary's church. I don't have the exact passage, but I'll paraphrase.

A man was at the point in his life when he was to die. He began asking those around him who would go with him. His wife and children said they could not. His friends said they could not. The grain of the field that he worked could not. When he was buried and went to heaven all that went with him were his actions, who gladly made the trip.

Wow. That was really powerful to me. It reminded me of a quote by one of my favorite people, Grace Kelly:

I would like to be remembered as someone who accomplished useful deeds, and who was a kind and loving person. I would like to leave the memory of a human being with a correct attitude and who did her best to help others.

I pray that I can be that person. I know that watching Rosemary and Soroosh, when I was around them and watching their journey on facebook, certainly has made me a better person. Rosemary attributes her strength to lessons she learned from Soroosh, but I think, while that is true, she is also one of the strongest people I have ever had the pleasure of being around and that strength comes from inside her. She shows that strength to everyone that she encounters and will continue to share that strength for the rest of her life.

The second quote that was shared was by Robert Frost:

Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.

Well isn't that certainly true? I pray that I can find a love and have a relationship that is half as happy and filled with love as the one that I was so privileged to witness in Rosemary and Soroosh.

If you are someone who prays please keep Rosemary and Soroosh's family in your prayers in the next few days, weeks and months. They are amazing people, but a few extra prayers for strength has never hurt anyone.

I leave you with a photograph of the happy couple from our college days, at some fun Kappa Phi dance. They are smiling and happy, which is how I will always remember them.

High School

High school was a million years ago, or so it seems. At the same time it seems like just yesterday. It has really seemed far away and close in the last 36 hours. One of my high school friends was killed in a car accident yesterday morning on her way to work. Katie was the daughter of our high school band director (which as much as I choose not to mention it, yes I was in color guard and a part of the band). Katie was a year older than me in school. We were part of the same group through most of high school, yet we were never the best of friends. I feel so sad about her death, the impact on her parents and brother and on her two little girls, Lexie and Lindsay, who will live their lives without their mom.

The news broke via facebook, as so many things in this day and age do, around 10:15 when I saw a friend had posted on Katie's dad's wall. I just had a feeling that something had happened to her, which was confirmed a few minutes later. Immediately I messaged our group of girl friends, some of which, though friends on facebook, I haven't talked to in years. In the hours after finding out about this I talked to so many friends, via facebook, text and on the phone, that I have not talked to in years. I posted this as my status yesterday:

It is days like today that make you remember who you used to be; that make you remember the people that used to be your entire world; it is sad that it sometimes takes a tragedy and the loss of one of those people to truly remember how much they meant to you.


It is completely true. No matter where we all are now my high school friends were some of the most influential in me becoming who I am today. It is sad that we lose touch, and sometimes it is by circumstance and sometimes it is by choice. Whatever the reason is it is at these moments that we really think about all those long lost friends.
 
As sad as it is to say I am looking forward to seeing everyone on Wednesday at the funeral. I wish it was under different circumstances, but let's be honest: how many times have we all said "let's get together for a mini reunion" and how many times have we actually done it?
 
My favorite Katie memory:
My freshman year of high school, last day of school, my group of friends (all older than me) went to the lake for the day. I wanted to go and my mom took me out there...and wouldn't leave! She didn't trust us because there were adults there. I remember Katie and our friend Lisa explaining that part of them were 18, wasn't that adult enough??? My mom, of course, didn't buy it. I have a scrapbook page (the only one I've ever done!) from this day somewhere at my parents house and unfortunately don't have any of the photos at my house (or any others of just Katie and I), so I don't have anything to post of her (what I do have of her my scanner isn't working). I will leave you with two pictures of my two very best friends in the world, thankfully we still talk and see each other on a regular basis as well as a picture from Band Banquet senior year.
 
 

 
 

 
In summary, please keep the Stevenson family in your prayers and call your high school friends and really get together with them...they made you who you are today!

Glad to be Home!

Well today did NOT go how I planned!

This was the plan: dress cute at the end of the work day, a quick stop before I headed south, drive to Ardmore (stopping and getting a quick dinner on the way), watch Red, White and Tuna (the first show for Ardmore Little Theatre, and the beginning of my 17th consecutive season of perfect attendance), drive home, go to bed.

Simple enough?

WRONG!!!

The first part of this adventure started out how I planned. We are in the process of merging two of my offices into one, which is involving moving about 150 people around in two offices and lots of packing. I have dressed GRUNGY because of it. I was craving cute clothes and heels, so I put on a cute little black dress before I left work. I made a quick stop before heading south (in an attempt to look adorable), then headed towards Ardmore.

All was well, chatting on the phone with Michelle between the two exits in Purcell and suddenly the car started pulling funny; I thought maybe the wind was just blowing, oh no that would have been WAY to simple! (Sidebar: show starts at 7:00 I leave Norman about 5:00, the drive is between and hour and an hour and a half, depending on speed) I finally pull over, afraid I have a flat tire (Another sidebar: I had a flat August 14 on the rear, passenger side tire, took it to Hibdon's, had them fix it, all was well, BUT I also have a slow leak in the rear, driver side tire) on the rear, driver side. I get out of the car, on I35 southbound, in the previously mentioned cute little black dress and 4 inch pointy toed stilettos, much to my surprise the tires on the driver's side are fine, however the rear, passenger tire is FLAT. Flat really might be an understatement actually. I'm still on the phone with Michelle, who I put on standby to come rescue me, as I am NOT in "tire changing" clothes, plus I don't really have a clue how to change a tire, and have no jack and that X shaped thingy. I call my trusty insurance roadside assistance, who I was a little irritable with, they say they will call me back with the ETA. In the meantime it dawns on me that my wonderful friend Skylar lives in Purcell! I call her and see if her husband, Matt, can come rescue me. She calls him, then calls me back and I call him and we work out details, though he had to run home and get a jack and that X shaped thingy. In the meantime the stupid insurance calls back and says it will be AN HOUR! I kindly call the tow truck (who had no name and which the phone rings approximately 20 times, NOT an exaggeration) and cancel them. Matt and his son Nick show up, change the tire, I pay them in homemade cookies I happened to have in the car and head to the nearest gas station to air up the spare a bit. As I pull into the gas station 3 miles away the stupid insurance calls and says now it will be 20 minutes before the tow truck arrives! So glad that Matt and Nick came to my rescue.

Here is my poor spare that is getting WAY too much use lately!

I manage, without speeding too badly, to get to the show at 7:02 before the director did his intro even! The show was HILARIOUS! If you are in Ardmore this weekend go see it! Friday and Saturday at 7 and Sunday at 2:30 I think. At the close of the show I get stuff from my mom (there is always stuff that she accumulates between visits) including "Fifth Avenue, 5 A.M." by Sam Wasson, the story of Breakfast at Tiffany's: sooooo excited!

I leave Ardmore, praying that my trip home is better than my trip to Ardmore. Except I forget that I didn't get gas before I left Norman. My car gets HORRIBLE gas mileage and having driven about 100 miles before this little adventure I did not have enough gas to go to Ardmore and back to Norman. I realize this at about mile marker 98 on I35 North. If you know anything about I35 North you realize that there really isn't a gas station until exit 106 (Riverwind and Love's). Very soon after my realization that I'm really close to sitting on E my low fuel light comes on. I prayed the whole time that I could make it less than 10 miles to get the gas station. I really didn't want to have to call someone or call insurance and wait again. I managed to make it to Love's. Here is the verdict (Sidebar: my tank holds 18 gallons):

At round about 16 miles to the gallon I could have made it about another 13 miles! (Luckily I did not dare to test this theory!)

I came home to dump 8 bags worth of shock into my still cloudy and green pool. I'm praying that maybe tomorrow it will be less green, or heck not green at all. What I learned about this: don't open the bucket of concentrate chlorine and stick your nose in it to smell it...it hurts! What can I say, don't argue with blond being my natural hair color!

The positives of today came on the radio though (when I wasn't listening to Christmas music, and no I don't have an answer why I was doing this). My two favorite songs, of the moment, were played when I could hear them all the way through: Steve Azar "Sunshine" and Kenny Chesney "Boys of Fall". I dedicate the second to my favorite 10 year old football player, Baley Sechrist, who got hit at football practice tonight and had to have a cat scan and has a neck brace right now. :( Prayers for him please!

Overall not the worst day ever, but I'm sure glad to be home in my bed!