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On the Other Hand
And there it finally is PDF Print
Monday, July 23, 2012 12:30 PM

Sooooo. Seems time goes even faster when you’re on vacation. It’s hard to believe since it already felt like it was in warp speed.
How does it happen? I’m minding my own business, on “vacation” (or rather a staycation) and the next thing I know, it’s three days later and I haven’t really done much of anything even though my days felt like they were pretty full.

Last Updated on Wednesday, February 27, 2013 3:21 PM
 
Make me cry, Lotus PDF Print
Monday, July 16, 2012 9:26 AM

It’s that time of year again. As my faithful read this I should be back home, snuggled in bed with the furry one and recovering from a fly-by-night trip to the Columbus airport to drop my better half off for his flight to the Baltimore/Washington Airport. He will then be whisked away by his sister and family to Virginia Beach. Yes, it’s time for the fabulous Lotus to dance her heart out, bring home trophies and just generally amaze her uncle. Not that it’s that hard. We think she’s pretty amazing just by being here.

Last Updated on Tuesday, November 06, 2012 4:28 PM
 
When the heat is on PDF Print
Monday, July 09, 2012 10:31 AM

It’s so good to have things getting back to some semblance of normalcy. Sorry to those still without power.
It doesn’t take long to figure out someone’s character and fortitude in an emergency situation such as we endured this past week.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget driving home Friday afternoon during the storm and seeing the tree on my neighbors house. WOW! It was surreal — like something out of a disaster movie.

I pulled in the drive, hopped out, grabbed the garbage can and drug it around the house and fumbled for my keys. I glanced in the yard and there was a large tree branch on the picnic table that had taken out my begonias. Drat.

Last Updated on Tuesday, November 06, 2012 4:29 PM
 
Why I Relay PDF Print
Monday, June 25, 2012 10:03 AM

There are many reasons why I participate in the Relay for Life. The first and most important is because I truly believe that research is the way to beat cancer. I know there are many people who could use help with medical bills, gas, food and lodging when a family is struck by this disease. The money raised at the Relay each year would hardly touch those medical bills for one person.

 

Last Updated on Tuesday, November 06, 2012 4:30 PM
 
My father’s hands PDF Print
Monday, June 18, 2012 9:45 AM

I came across this column while doing research for another story. After I read it, I realized there was just no better way to say how I feel about the upcoming holiday.

Happy Father’s Day to you all. I hope you  dads enjoy your day in the spotlight.

My father has been gone now for 14 years. There still isn’t a week that passes that I don’t think about him and wish I could share my hopes, joys and sorrows with him.

One of the things that has stuck in my mind is my father’s hands.

They were very capable and strong. The nails  had grease under them from his long days working under the hood of a car. There must be a point when it just doesn’t come off anymore. The knuckles were often knicked from a slipped wrench or screwdriver and the palms were calloused.

Those hands held my mother’s when they were married and then my brother and sister when they were born. Those hands held me when I came along.

Those hands built our garage, added on the mud room and renovated our attic when I came along so my sister and I could have our own bedrooms.

Those hands put fish worms on my hook because I was too squeamish to do it myself. Then they took off the fish I caught and at times filleted them for us to eat.

Those hands built our cottage in Michigan that provided us with a vacation destination most weekends in the summer for nearly 20 years.

Those hands clapped for me during band and choir concerts, after half-time shows during football season and during my high school graduation.

Those hands then tentatively held my son when he was born. He said he was afraid because Cameron was so small. They also held him for the first two years of his life as he rocked him to sleep while I worked second or third shift.

Those hands were on my son’s back as he learned to ride his first two-wheel bicycle. I can still hear him shout encouragement as Cameron careened down the sidewalk, wobbling from side to side and squealing with delight.

Those hands rested on my shoulders when he knew I needed to talk.

Those hands shook my fiancé’s when they met for the first time so many years ago.

At the end, those hands trembled with fatigue from the many chemotherapy and radiation treatments to fight the tumors that were growing in his brain. They were held, rubbed and patted to let him know we were by his side like he had been for us so many times.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I miss you.

Last Updated on Tuesday, November 06, 2012 4:30 PM
 
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