Keep Swimming!!

Late one fall night my youngest daughter, Hannah, and I went to the Ritz 7 Theatre in Lebanon, Missouri to watch “Finding Nemo” in 3D.  It is a story about a Clown fish Dad (named Marlin) searching for his son who was captured by a dentist who was scuba diving one day.  The dentist took and kept Nemo in his enormous fish tank along with several other salt water fish.

There were a few connections I encountered while watching this animated movie.  Marlin, passionate and determined, set a goal to find his son.  He faced fears along the way such as sharks, jellyfish, a whale, and more.  He was blessed with a great friend, Dorie, who encouraged him and helped him find his son, Nemo.

Dorie said many times, “Just keep swimming.  Just keep swimming.”

There were times Marlin wanted to give up; he hit many brick walls in his journey.  As it became too difficult, Dorie would not let him give up.  She encouraged him to press on.

Marlin and Dorie encountered other sea creatures that entered their life for a short period of time to help, too.  It was as if a team of individuals was helping Marlin to find his son, Nemo.

Nemo, stuck in a fish tank, passionately desired to escape.  His desire to escape escalated when he heard from a pelican friend that his Dad faced three sharks to rescue him.  It was at this time Nemo escaped through the little sink by the dentist chair.

Nemo and his Dad did find each other.  There was much rejoicing and celebrating.

In my business I have set goals in building my team.  I am excited and passionate about helping other business partners.  At the same time I have a great coach and team of people encouraging me and helping me.  I just have to say that encouragement is everything.  It is my goal to encourage someone everyday.  As I watched Marlin face his fears in finding Nemo, I must face my fears in finding my way to the top of this amazing company.  Reaching the top of this business means time freedom for my wonderful husband and children.  I have to say that when I see someone facing their fears and accomplishing their goals encourages me and others to face fears and accomplish goals.  We are all in this together.  As we all reach our goals, whether large or small, we should celebrate them because it builds confidence to press on to the next goal.

I am so thankful for Team National!  It is changing my life.  I am also thankful for a couple who thought enough of us to share Team National.

Keep swimming!

Made By My Grandmother's Hands

Time is fleeting.  Time allowed very few days to spend with my Grandma Rodgers.  On this one of a kind particular day my mother and brother were attending a function and I was excited to be staying with Grandma for the day.  The dress making, the time together, the bonding, and the feeling of love is a precious cherished memory that lasts a lifetime.     

When I learned I was going to my Grandma’s house, I arose to gather my Barbie Doll and her clothes.  I carefully packed them in my black Barbie suitcase.  I grabbed my coloring book and box of crayons.  As my mother drove me to Grandma’s house she instructed, “Don’t make a mess for Grandma.  Help her prepare lunch for the guys and you can help her wash the dishes.” 

“Okay, I will.” I assured my mother. 

I couldn’t wait to arrive at the white farm house with the white milk barn in the back.  Robin, the English shepherd dog, greeted us in the backyard barking loudly and wagging her tail from side to side.  My Grandma opened the back door for us to enter.  “How are you?” she asked.

After my mother left I sat at the kitchen table coloring while, my grandmother did some dinner preparations.  Remembering that my mother told me to help Grandma I asked, “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing.” She replied.  “Why don’t you color a pretty picture for your Grandfather, while I fry this chicken up?  Do you want to eat a leg?”

“Sure would!  A chicken leg would be yummy with mashed potatoes and gravy, too?”  My grandmother made the best!!!

“Can’t have chicken without the trimmings!” agreed my Grandma.

The guys, my grandfather, my dad, and my uncle, arrived for dinner.  I listened to their conversation, as I ate.  I soon grew bored with their conversation; I went to play with my Barbie Dolls in the living room.

After the guys left I helped my grandmother clean up.  Suddenly she suggested, “Let’s make a Barbie Doll dress for your doll.”  I was so excited.  I ran to get my doll out of the case.  I had an assortment of clothes for my dolls, but not a handmade dress.

At the table I watched my Grandmother design a unique Barbie dress.  She had no pattern.  She laid my doll on a piece of newspaper drawing a pattern around the doll.  The pattern was a long sleeved, collarless, a-lined dress.  She made the pattern bigger to allow for the seams.  Grandma went to the sewing cupboard to pull down a box of material scraps she used to make handmade quilts.  “What material would you like for the dress?”  she asked. 

I saw beautiful greens, reds, and purple prints.  “I remember my cousin has a dress made out of this material.  Look here is the material I have a short set made out of.”  I said.  My mother, aunt, and grandmother sewed my clothes.  I found a pretty pink poke-a-dot scrap for my Barbie doll dress. 

My grandmother pinned the newspaper pattern onto the material and began cutting out the pattern.  I watched her sew the front and back sections together.  I loved the dress.  I thought grandma was finished, but not yet.  She handed me the button jar.  “Find a couple of buttons for the dress.”  I poured the buttons out on the table.  There were all sorts of fancy buttons of different shapes and colors; some of the buttons sparkled, some were in flower shapes, others were plain flat buttons.  I found two pink rose shaped buttons. 

“I like these two buttons, Grandma.  What do you think?” I asked.

“I think they will be perfect!” she agreed. 

I watched grandma thread a needle with pink thread and sew the two buttons onto the top of the dress.  Grandma clipped the thread on the dress and handed it to me.  “What do you think?”

“It is beautiful.  I love it.  Look there are pockets, too!  I didn’t see them!”  Grandma had sewed the pockets on while I was choosing the buttons for the dress.

I tried the dress on my Barbie doll.  It was a perfect fit!  My Barbie doll looked beautiful!  “Thank you, Grandma!” I said.

The pink poke-a-dot dress did not have the appearance of a professionally made dress.  However, it stands out among the assortment of dresses I owned.  It was special, because my Grandmother prepared it just for me.  I played many hours with that dress.  Always, I would tell my friends that my grandmother made this dress.  It is grand!

Forty some odd years later I still have the Barbie doll dress made by my Grandmother’s hands.  Every time I see the dress I am reminded of my special day with my Grandmother, just my grandma and I.  I remember the gentleness, the kindness, the love I felt on that day.  It was just an ordinary day, yet we were creating extraordinary memories lasting a lifetime.

                                                                                 

The Perfect Dress

Every bride to be desires the perfect dress for her once in a life time special day.  The dress must be the right shade of white or color, the right style to fit the shape of the bride, and the dress must be comfortable.  Will the bride find the dress at the first location or after searching several locations?  How many opinions will she need to hear before she knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that she has found the perfect dress?  No one knows the answers to these questions.  The certainty is that the bride will persevere in her quest to find the perfect dress.

After Stephanie’s announcement of her engagement to be married in the fall, a trio of us began the search for the perfect wedding dress.  Every dress Stephanie tried on was unique and beautiful.  Every store had exquisite dresses.  Not every dress reflects the specialness and uniqueness of Stephanie’s personality as with any bride to be.

Initially the search party consisted of Stephanie, Hannah, and me.    Later three of Stephanie’s best friends joined the search team: Hannah, Nicole, and Jennifer.  We all had a BLAST searching for the perfect dress!!! 

We drove to Norman’s Bridal, The Dress, David’s Bridal, Karl’s Tuxedo’s, and more businesses in downtown and south Springfield.  The shops were filled with dresses from lacey and poufy to simple and elegant.  Stephanie modeled different dresses to observe the feel and look of each dress.

                                                           This dress is too white.

                                                          This dress is too feathery.

                                                  This dress is too mermaid looking.

                              This dress is too fluffy (Actually, Nicole calls this dress Swan Lake.)

                                  

                                                             This dress is too lacey

                                                            This dress is too black.

                                                                               

                                                         This dress is too shapeless.

                                                                        

                                               This dress is follow by too much of a train.

                                                                              

After many hours on different days of searching these five ladies and I were becoming tired.  A lunch and rest to revive us and we were ready to continue our quest for the right dress.  And wonder of wonder and miracle of miracles Stephanie said, “This is the dress!  This is the one!”  She just knew in her heart and so did the rest of us. 

This dress is just right: the right shape, the right shade of white, the right amount of lace, and the dress is comfortable.

“Ring-a-ding-ding” went the bell as Stephanie shook it up and down.  She was smiling a huge beautiful smile.  As a mother I must say that seeing Stephanie’s beautiful smile was worth all the hours spent in locating the perfect dress.  It was more than just finding the perfect dress.  It was about time spent together with my daughters and her friends.  It was about making a cherished memory to be enjoyed for years to come.

For me there are times I find it difficult to live in the moment.  I am either remembering the past and wishing to go back or looking toward the future and trying to anticipate what could happen.  When I do this, I miss the special moments in my life.  It is my goal to truly feel and enjoy the present moments.  I am so very grateful to be experiencing these moments with my daughter. 

Frog Legs or Chicken Pegs?

Most people will agree with me when I say that my husband, whom I love very much, is an ornery man who loves to tease people.  It is a sort of twisted pleasure of his. 

It was the spring of 1986.  Steve and I were excited.  We were excited about accomplishing our goals.  We both had worked hard and diligently for 3 years.  Steve was near completion of his senior year of Pharmacy School at the University of Missouri Kansas City (UMKC).  It was time to celebrate our accomplishments.  We are grateful UMKC provided several opportunities to honor the pharmacy students with celebrations.

The class of 1986 was invited to Kaufman Stadium by Marion Labs to eat at the restaurant there.  We went along with the class and sat with Melinda and Hamid Abdanan.  They were serving us at our table with appetizers.  One of the appetizers looked suspiciously like frog legs.  I picked it up, sniffed of it to see if it had a wild game smell, started to eat it, and stopped.  Steve, “I asked.  What is this?”  He replied, with a smile and raised eyebrows, “Peg legs which is part of a chicken wing”.  I did not believe him. 

In the meantime our friend Melinda had a big mouthful of chicken peg leg.  “I said do not eat that?  It is frog legs!”   Pluh, pluh, pluh!  Melinda spit out all the food in her mouth onto her plate.  Steve and Hamid got a really good laugh out of that one. 

I still did not believe him so we called the waiter over to our table.  Holding up one of the pieces of chicken, Steve asked, “What is this?”  The waiter, looking confused, said, “Chicken, Sir.”  Steve looked at me and smiled in satisfaction.

Grrrr!  Steve was right!  Deep down in my heart, I knew Steve was telling the truth about the chicken.  I can not imagine him not telling the truth but the coy smile and raised eyebrows threw me off. 

I felt a little embarrassed that Melinda spit the chicken out due to my warnings.  The four of us looked at each other and busted out laughing.  

William Arthur Ward said, “To make mistakes is human; to stumble is commonplace; to be able to laugh at yourself is maturity.” 

Buddy's Mouse

Steve was a pharmacy student, and I was a research assistant in the Kansas City area in the middle 80’s.  Even though we missed our families greatly, it was an amazing learning experience for both of us to learn to depend upon each other more and more. Our relationship through our experiences strengthened as a result.  Even though we were studying and working hard, we found ways to laugh every day. 

Once in a great while we would shop for clothes, cookware, books, and appliances at the Bannister Mall near Grandview, Missouri.  On this particular day we were browsing in a toy shop, when my eye caught a life size fury little mouse.  I gasped, “Steve look at this.  It looks so real!”

“It does for sure!” agreed Steve.

“I have an idea!  Remember how Buddy is afraid of the mice in the milk barn?”  Steve shook his head yes.  “And you know how messy he is.  Let’s buy this mouse.  The next time we visit my family, we can place it strategically somewhere to startle Buddy.”

Laughing, we staggered to the check out counter to purchase our little pet.  The clerk with dancing brown eyes and a wide grin took our money and put our mouse in a small brown paper bag.  She knew what we were up to. 

As we left the mall, the wheels in my mind began turning round and round.  Where would we leave the mouse?  How will we slightly hide the mouse without being seen?  Steve and I brained stormed different ideas. 

“I know just what to do!  Remember how Buddy and Dad arrive home with hot bologna sausage, crackers, cheese, soda, bananas, and other snacks from the small convenience/package store nearly every Saturday afternoon?  Both of them devour the fatty food and love every bite. They are so messy on that counter leaving all the food and wrappers out scattered all over the place.  It becomes one jumbled up heap!” I reminded Steve as he smiled at me with ornery twinkling eyes.  “The advantage is planting our little fury friend in the mess.  I can just see Buddy moving from the sink to the counter to the refrigerator and back.  After he leaves the counter area to sit at the kitchen table, I can prepare a small snack for us and nonchalantly put the mouse in the mess.  After I leave the kitchen at some point Buddy will go back for second helpings.  I would bet on it!”

“Great idea!” exclaimed Steve

We wanted so desperately to observe Buddy’s reaction, when he bumps into our fury friend.  What would his reaction be? Over the course of a few weeks I play different scenarios in my mind anticipating over and over again my brother’s reaction, when he finds the mouse.  Would he jump in the air, back off, or yell?    

Finally, Steve and I acquired time away from school and work to travel to the Bolivar, Missouri area to visit our families.  Just as planned Buddy and Dad came home with hot bologna and all the fixings on that Saturday afternoon.  I watched Buddy devour a banana and throw the peeling on the counter in the midst of meat, crackers, wrappings, and other food items.  Perfect!  Buddy picked up his plate and left the counter while I sauntered to the counter.  I discretely removed the mouse from my sweater pocket and placed the mouse on the banana peel as if the mouse were eating the peeling.

Picking up my plate I went to the table to sit down, to eat, and to observe. 

The moment I sat down Buddy rose from the table saying, “I need some mustard on my sandwich!”  Carelessly he set his plate on the counter, opened the refrigerator door with an arm load of mustard, ketchup, and mayonnaise.  I heard the refrigerator close.  Buddy took two steps to the counter coming to a halt, and then he threw his arms in the air almost dropping the containers of condiments.  His mouth dropped!  He screeched! 

I could hold the laughter inside no longer.  I had the privilege observing his reaction.  It was all I had expected.  Buddy gave me first a startled look, followed by a frustrated, and an angry look.  He then busted out laughing.  Dad and Mom looked and asked, “What is going on?”

Buddy says, “Sis just tried to give me a heart attack with this mouse,” as he picked it up by the tail.

Mom and Dad go to the kitchen counter to look.  “What a joke!” they chuckled. 

Reminiscing upon this fond memory of connecting with my family through laughter, I realize just how blessed my life has been.  I knew this little joke would bring joy and laughter to all, especially to me.  As the years fly by I understand more the importance of being someone with the type of spirit that lifts others up everyday.  It doesn’t have to be a joke.  It can be a smile reflecting a joyful and happy heart. 

Proverbs 17:22 says, “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine…

Imagine If They Could Talk?

Watching our children grow was a blessing and a joy each day in many ways.  Imagination is one aspect that was always fun and interesting.  We encouraged the cultivation of their imagination.

“Aaaahhhhh, Mom!  I thought my cowboy was really talking to me!” Chris exclaimed.  We both looked at each other and laughed.  I walked over to the shelf to place Mr. Cowboy gently on top.  “It is fun to pretend, isn’t it?  Wouldn’t it be cool if Mr. Cowboy could talk?” smiling, I asked. 

I replayed the whole scenario in my mind.  While a 4 year old Chris was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and talking animatedly with his father, I scrunched in between the wall and his bed.  I was lying on the floor waiting for his arrival.  Listening, I heard Chris’ little feet skipping down the hall.  Pitter pat pat.  As he entered his room, his skipping suddenly stopped.  I could only imagine the surprised look on his sweet little face, when he saw the cowboy standing on his bed and talking to him.  I walked the cowboy forward on the bed and said, “Hey, Chris, how are you doing, tonight?  We had fun today didn’t we?”

Kids have vivid imaginations.  In fact, my kids had such vivid imaginations that their toys seem to be real.  “Mom, I think I saw Barbie move!” or “Dad, my lion just swished his tale back and forth!” or “Let’s use this box as a car!”  To imagine something is to think a situation could actually happen no matter how “out there” it could be.  We encouraged our children to pretend everyday.

Albert Einstein once said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge.”  People should imagine the impossible everyday.  This creating, writing, designing, and inventing are all the results of healthy imaginations.  Creative thoughts or imagination bring about knowledge to us.

Facing My Fears

Seeking a job to cover our cost of living expenses, developing new friendships, obtaining prescription transfers, traveling in big city traffic, and being hours from our home are some of the fears I faced.  In June of 1983 Steve and I relocated to the Kansas City, Missouri area.  All of us have felt fears at sometime during our lives to some degree.       

The first fear was searching for an apartment.  I had allowed well-meaning friends and loved ones to plant seeds of doubt.  “It is not safe in Kansas City.  I sure hope you find a secure place.”  Steve and I traveled to Grandview, which is a suburb of Kansas City.  We looked at several different apartments; some apartments we definitely did not want to rent; others apartments we may want to rent; and lastly one we definitely did want to rent. 

The apartment we decided to rent was a one bedroom domain with a fairly large living room, kitchen and dining room area, and bathroom in the Briarwood Apartment Complex on the ground level.  I particularly liked the huge sliding glass doors, because I enjoy a lot of sunlight.  Most importantly, I was grateful to feel safe.

Another fear was leaving a land with which I was familiar to a land of unknown.  A few days after we found our apartment, we loaded up two pickup trucks and our two cars with our furniture and belongings.  We were grateful to Steve’s brother in law and sister, Wayne and Jane, and my mother and brother, Buddy, for helping us on moving day.    

The following Sunday we found a church to attend, Good Hope Missionary Baptist Church located at 48^th and Wabash.  We are grateful to have found a church to call home. 

On Monday my husband left for pharmacy school.  I was left alone in our apartment.  I was afraid to go out by myself. I had plans to pick up groceries at the nearby Safeway and transfer a prescription to the pharmacy in that shopping center.  Having never traveled through a huge city, I was challenged.  I made a few wrong turns attempting to cross over highway 71, but I figured it out. 

One fear I never crossed my mind was meeting rude people.  I stopped at the pharmacy to transfer a prescription.  It felt like the pharmacy technician glared at me.  “We cannot transfer this prescription without a written prescription from your doctor!” she said.  My stomach began to knot up as I left the pharmacy.

I picked up groceries and found my way back to our apartment.  At least the grocery store welcomed my check to pay for the groceries. 

“I just feel so unwelcome in this city.” I told Steve.  We had time to travel back to the pharmacy to obtain the prescription. The technician I spoke with must have been having a bad day and was confused. This time we were able to get the prescription.

Finding a job was another fear.  The next day I began searching for a job.  I called businesses, filled out applications, and interviewed for several days.  During this process I got lost in this huge city several times; but to my surprise people were friendly and helpful.  It felt frustrating, but looking back I was learning everyday.

Facing these fears everyday began affecting me.  My stomach began to hurt and hurt.  The pain occurred more and more and became more and more intense.  On one particular morning while Steve was dressing for school, I said, “Steve, I may have to make an appointment to go to the doctor.  This pain just won’t go away and I don’t know what it is.  I don’t want to, because we don’t have the money.”  Steve said, “You have to take care of yourself.  Perhaps, you should just stay home and rest today!” 

After Steve left, I thought, “I have a job interview that I will not reschedule.  I must be there.”  In the shower I prayed, “Lord, how am I going to be able to get through the interview?”  Suddenly, I thought came to me, “Just pretend you feel great!”   I began saying out loud, “I feel wonderful!  I feel energetic and healthy!  I am happy!  My stomach does not hurt!”

I continued this all the way to the destination for the job interview.  I met, spoke, and toured the lab facilities.  I enjoyed talking with the people there.  I traveled home and began preparing supper.  I realized at supper that my stomach was no longer hurting.

The next day my stomach was not hurting.  I felt so much better.  What was it?  Steve and I decided that I was just stressed, since I was in a big city with no friends and/or relatives, and without a much needed job.  It was a new experience all together.

Think about it.  My fear was all in my mind.  My fear produced stress and it caused my stomach to ache.  Once I decided to face these fears and in my mind to tell myself how I was going to feel, my situation changed.  Amazing!

Over time I did find an awesome lab research assistant job at the Kansas University Medical Center working and learning with some interesting and great people.  I learned my way around without getting lost in the big city.  I made many friends.  In fact, living in Kansas City was an amazing growing experience for Steve and me.  We are thankful. 

Someone wise once said, “Face the fear you fear the most and death of the fear is certain!”