You know your insecure when...

>> Friday, July 30, 2010

You know your insecure when…


You call Customer service 12 times a day just to hear how your call is very important to them.

You cry after being mugged, not because some punk stole your hand bag, but because he called you a b*tch.

Your feelings are hurt because your lesbian friend has never hit on you, even though you are not only straight but married with kids.

You follow your own blog to boost the numbers.

No matter who or why someone is unhappy you know it’s got to be your fault.

No matter who or why someone is laughing you know it's got to be at you.

You fear your toddler doesn’t loves you anymore when she no longer cries when you leave the house, and you start pinching her just before you walk out to make yourself feel better.

You feel like you’ve missed out on being a hooker after watching “Pretty Woman” and wonder if it’s too late.

Every time you go to church you’re convinced the message was directed at you personally.

You shoot me an angry email for writing this post about you.

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In Washington there are no specific laws stipulating the age at which a child can be left home alone...I think I need to take advantage of that more often...wow you can really put a lot in a title.

>> Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Why do I take my kids out of the house? You would think I’ve learned my lesson by now.


Like the time I was checking out at Wal-Mart and my 5 year old son starts singing some song he heard on someone else’s radio, cause I only play soft christen music in my car.

Sam: “Honeys got a booty like POW POW POW … Honeys got some boobies like WOW oh WOW! Oh oh ohohoh oh my gosh”

This complete with dance moves and booty shaken.

Oh my gosh is right, but I guess people have come to expect this kind of behavior from kids in Wal-Mart. Super

I should have never taken that kid out in public again. But NOOOOO I have a compulsive need for embarrassment and dirty looks from strangers.

As written in the Bible, if a child is taken into a store, he has to go to the bathroom. This need to pee must happen (according to Jon 24:7) at the furthest possible point from the restrooms and with great urgency. If I’m not mistaken (and of course I am) it reads, “He who has no understanding of a Child’s self-control is foolish and reckless – that is his folly and his shame.”

So today while in the Garden center at Lowes Sammy informs me and the rest of the planet that he has to GO NOW. And where is the Restroom at Lowes, that’s right, on the other side of Lumber clear across the great vast.

Here is where the folly and shame come in. Seems it’s a busy day at the Ladies room, as we wait for a stall to empty Sam explains to me that he is a boy and should use boy’s bathroom, then goes into why he is a boy.

Sam: because I have a dink and tenders…girls don’t have dinks or tenders.

Just super.

When a stall opens up I shoo Sam inside.

Sam: Mom I just got some pee on my shirt...why does it stinks so bad in here.

Super, now I’m trying not to laugh.

Sam: (singing) It’s 3am I’m a little drunk and I need you now…(huge fart)...Holy cow that was a big one!  Mom did you hear that?  Mom...mom...

Dirty look from strange lady with silly glasses

Me: Wash your hands and let’s go.

Sam: Why do I have to wash my hands, I never wash them at home.

Super Dee Duper.


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Autism: it's a trip ~ we've come a long way baby

>> Monday, July 26, 2010

“Your Aspergers is showing.”

This is what my husband says to me when I am having an anxiety melt down, or getting overly excited (not that kind of excited…sheesh…get your mind out of the gutter).

You see our oldest son Avery has Aspergers syndrome, and my husband says he gets it from me. I frankly don’t know what he is talking about; stop looking at me. If you’re not aware of what Aspergers (AS) is, and you give a rat’s fart, Google it. (And NO it is not like Rain Man)

For us AS has been a real rollercoaster ride, the kind where you just never can get off no matter how much you want to, mostly because your butt is glued to the seat. Now that my son is 12, the ride is not so scary and I want to toss my cookies a lot less, but the ups are still ups and the downs can still get you running to the local market for some beer and smokes.

Today I’m going to share our journey through this wonderful and scary world of AS, and the Hope that comes after the nightmare. So buckle up and enjoy the ride, the barf bags are located under your seat.

When you accept the hard fact that you child is not “Normal” you grieve the loss of the child you envisioned having; the one that may never learn to ride a bike or even tie his own shoes. You fear the unknown and are paralyzed by the possibility of having a "dysfunctional child”.

I remember sitting across the table form my sons second grade teacher, in one of them little chairs, ya know the ones that you just can't feel like an adult in, as she tried to tell me she thought my son had AS…then try and explain to me what AS was…poor woman. Once she said the word autism, I turned her off "there is no way my son has autism," I informed her, “he doesn’t rock in the corner flapping his hands and banging his head on the wall, are you new or just stupid." (Ok I didn’t say that last part, but I wanted to) He was our first son, to us he was fine, to us there was nothing wrong, and to us …we were lost.

At first it was 6 months of complete denial, lack of knowledge, pain and confusion. Then we could no longer fight what was staring us right in the face (or in this case what was NOT staring us in the face).

Dealing with the reality that your child is not like all the others kids, that he isn’t “normal” is overwhelming to say the least. But adding the stress of getting a diagnosis, finding the right doctors, jumping threw hoops dealing with the school system, driving to all the therapy apts, OC, PT, Speech, Social skills groups etc etc. can be downright exhausting and emotionally suffocating.

We, or more like I, (husbands seem to have a harder time dealing with this kind of stuff then moms) read every book ever written on AS and spent countless nights up to 3 am searching every web site and support message board on the internet, slowly we/I (He took longer to come around) begin to understand our sons thinking, and why he does what he does. We realized it’s not our bad parenting … (like every one said behind our backs and worse, sometimes to our faces) We started using the new tools we learned, cause everything you’ve ever known about parenting didn’t work with our kid. Then Avery started using the tools he learned…and before you know it a weight started to lift and the black clouds part.

It’s been a long crazy scary journey, and at some point my theme song had become:

Bob Marley's - I Can See Clearly Now (for the rest of this post this song should be playing in the back of your head)

Through our journey I've gained a passion, a mission, a purpose to advocate for my son. To push back at the school system that wanted to put him in the “resource room” or use a “jacket” to tie/weigh him to the chair. I’m not making this stuff up. As a parent you find out fast your on your own, no one holds your hand.

It would of been easier to just label my child as "broken" played the victim, sat back, thrown my hands up, saying “poor me” at the crappy hand life dealt me…my son has a neurological disorder and he'll always have limits and problems. Letting Avery fall through the cracks and into that box labeled "broken"

 I couldn’t put him in that box; it’s been a struggle and a fight the whole way even now. I made a choice to fight hard…But I couldn't have done it without God and his hand in my life. With lots of prayers begging "God help me, give me something... anything I can't do this by myself.” God gave me the strength and clarity...His loving hand opened doors for me; brought supportive people into my life, and showed me the way around road blocks.

God has shown me how to remove the label off of Avery…Our son may have Aspergers but it doesn't have him, man has set limits on him; God has not. I focus on the gifts and what a true blessing he is, as the song goes, "Nothing but blue skies." God has blessed me with Avery for a reason and with my love he can do great things.
"All the bad feelings have disappeared."

Today I honestly think that if we had Avery tested (again) for Aspergers, it would be a test he would fail with flying colors. “There is the rainbow I’ve been praying for.”

I'd like to think that Avery is an example of what is possible, to quote Avery when I told him what I was writing about...

“I’m an example of all that is awesomeness!"

All we need is a spark, that starts a fire of hope…when you put your fears in God’s hands and focus on the gifts they become limitless.



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Wecome to my town, where they grow milk jugs

>> Saturday, July 24, 2010


I’m going to take y’all on a small tour, forgive the photographs I am not skilled at taking photos. Plus all the photos you are about to enjoy are taken from my car going like 50MPH.


This is what you see when pulling out of my street, nice huh? They bail hay here.  I know boring...WAKE UP!





Some old barns that I LOVE. Are you Yawning?

 Here you might find some cows.

Oh here are some cows now. This is what we say when we see the cows. “LOOK! Cow Maggie, what do cows say?” “Moooooooo”



“Look, horses Maggie what do horses say?” “Moooooooo”



I really like the old beat up old houses, reminds me of growing up. (No Mom I’m not trashing my childhood again)

This one is kind of creepy even in daylight.



Now here we have our local Dairy farm, at the local stores you can buy the local milk, for 5 times the price of milk shipped in from like, I don’t know, Canada.

In our family we have a disagreement about what is under the white plastic.
I say its cow dung, because it stinks to high heaven, when you drive by you wish you could cut off your nose and leave it at home.

My husband says “it’s all the dead bodies of the wife’s that blame their husband’s for farting in the car when they drive by. That one even has a smiley face on it, bet some happy husband put it there.” “ Talk to the hand stinky”…I say


Milk cows, which make the high priced local Milk.



Oh and here is where they grow the milk jugs. Bet you didn’t know Milk Jugs grew on farms. We have the only milk jug farms in the World! That’s why our Local milk is soooo expensive, the Jugs are Organic.

No, really what is this guy doing with all the jugs on a stick? My dad says its a way to keep moles away from your yard. (my dad is an expert on lawn care, moles and how to buy anything for a dime). According to my dad,  The wind blows the jug, that vibrates the stick, and sends the mole culprit running for his life. "Its the humane way," Dad tells me."  I just toss a smoke bomb down the hole and smoke the suckers out."

Well I think this guy is smoking something, because the moles sure have him fooled.  I just picture all the moles sitting around pointing and laughing at the guy as he mows around them milk jugs on sticks. 

And someone should tell him its not working, cause after all these years he keeps putting out more and more jugs. That tells me maybe the moles like the jugs and the vibration they make, cause they keep making holes for them. I don’t know just a thought.

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Dr Fix it?

>> Friday, July 23, 2010

Parents I am here to solve all of your child’s medical needs, Ha! Only joshing. Seriously though I have discovered that most of your child’s injuries can be repaired by something found in tool box or maybe your junk drawer.

Today I had to run my 2 year old daughter up to the Doctors office. Seems she some how (and I have know idea how) ripped her fingernail completely off the nail bed, in medical terms its call a “fricking gross lifted nail.” Her poor little nail is being held on at the cuticle…gives me the Hebe gee-bees.

I know the photo is bad, my cameras a piece of junk, but can you make out the discolored little nail?

So the Doctor has a quick look and says “some Superglue will fix that.” I’m not making this up. This guy spent 65 years in medical school and the best he can come up with is Superglue it? Superglue!
For a minute I thought maybe I walked into the wrong office, like I was really in Dr Fix-it's office "where all your handyman needs can be met."

Being the responsible mother I am, (glue…sheesh…what a quack!) I got a second option. I Goggled it.

According to the Superglue blog, (Yup even superglue has a blog;Who knew) it has been used for medical treatment for years.

During the Vietnam War, it became apparent that cyanoacrylates could be used to treat war wounds. Field surgeons began using the substance by spraying it over open wounds, which stopped bleeding instantly and allowed hurt soldiers to be transported to medical facilities for conventional treatment. This saved many lives during the war and lead to the eventual approval by the FDA of cyanoacrylates for certain medical uses. Some of these include rejoining veins and arteries during surgery, sealing bleeding ulcers, punctures or lesions, stopping uncontrollable bleeding of some soft organs, and use during dental surgery.

So I ran up to the local hardware store and got me some Krazy glue (they where all out of Superglue, guess there are alot of wounded kids out there) I got the "All purpose" kind, although it didn't list "children" on the package only wood, plastic, glass, etc etc... I thought it was best option. Then I got ready to patch up my daughter.

Here's all you need: (The candy is to keep the child busy so you can glue the wound)
It says right here on the warning label that it bonds skin instantly…so naturally why not use it on your toddler.
And that’s just what I did.

All Better, Then I used the Superglue to fix the busted handle on my coffee mug.   

So the next time your kid splits his/her chin open, don’t run him up to the ER, run to your junk drawer and just superglue his/her busted chin back together.  Think of all the money you'll save on medical bills!

(Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional and can not be held liable in the event any idiot Superglues their kid)


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Why we scream for ice-cream

>> Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Scientists calculate that the attraction between a child and an ice-cream truck can be up to sixty times as strong as mere gravity.
Scientists have also discovered that the music played by the ice-cream truck can interrupt the language center of a child’s brain, resulting in a frantic high pitch squeal.
Most parents try to correct this phenomenon by ignoring it, in hopes it will go away. The problem with this technique is that it is based on the moronic premise that the child is unaware of what is in the ice-cream truck. Ultimately this creates a secondary condition causing the child to scream in hysterics and spew water from the eyes and nose. Studies have shown that the only known antidote is to cram frozen treats into the mouth of affected child.

There is some speculation that ice-cream truck music has some affect on the mind of parents.  Drivers have reported being chased down the street and shot at by garden hose welding parents. The majority of these cases seem to be in direct correlation to the fact the water blasting parents have multiple children.  However what affect ice-cream truck music has on parents of small children has yet to be scientifically proven.

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Bad day for the dog

>> Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too. ~Samuel Butler, Notebooks, 1912
"Buck" up to his old tricks
So my dog likes to roll around in crap, not his own crap mind you. He has high standers when it comes to crap rolling, it must be the best quality organic vegan crap. Only Deer dung fits the bill.

Now when it comes to rolling in road kill or decaying matter…anything dead will do…and the deader the better.

He spent most of Sunday rolling in some of the finest Deer poo the Pacific Northwest can offer. Lucky for me organic vegan crap has a much less disgusting smell then death.

I still made him an appointment at the doggie groomers for today, he needed to be deshedded and dedunged.  And the last time I gave him a bath I ended up in the tub with him, Not pretty.

Being that he is a big ol chicken and today his first time at the groomers…he literally pooped himself, guess they scared the sh*t out of the poor guy…so lets just say It didn’t go so well. I had to go in to the back and get him out myself; they informed me after the 2nd bath (cause of the pooping issue) he started snapping at the workers.

Poor dog…poor me…still have a stinky fur ball and now he is wet.

So the task of cleaning this 115lb stink tank is up to me….oh goody!

I picked up some “Fur so fresh” dog shampoo (we were out from his last roll in road kill).

This shampoo says it “Beautifies and Freshens” I need me some of that! But it says right on the bottle that it’s for dogs only…danggumit… I want a high lustrous sheen that helps eliminate yellow discoloration and stains.

It also claims to Brighten, highlight and prevent dryness.

Wonder if it will make him bright enough not to roll in crap anymore? Well at least I hope it will brighten his day!
Crap or no crap...we love the big goofball and all his tricks.


Maggie and her sweet puppy bear.

I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat. For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that. ~W. Dayton Wedgefarth



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Don't let the door hit ya...

>> Saturday, July 17, 2010

I left my husband this week…packed the kids and the dog into the mini-van and left the bum. Thought he’d miss me…nope. Thought he’d care…nope. Thought he’d change his ways….nope.

I’m such a fool.

After camping on the Oregon coast for 3 days with my parents and a herd of kids, I’m about done. I’m dirty, stinky, have sand in places sand should never go, sun burnt, chapped lipped, and I miss my bed...And now I just need a stiff drink!

My husband however…I didn't miss. He left me with a sink full of dishes and split the nana-second we all dragged butt in the house.

“Ya home already” He greets with not so open arms. As Me, Myself, and I unload the car, while tossing snacks at the kids.

“Already?” I moan, “We just spent hours in traffic, there was a wreck on I-5 and the Dog has nasty gas, the kids fought the whole drive, I about died on that freeway! My knee is killing me, my butts numb and my sunburn itches like crazy but I can’t scratch it cause it hurts like a fricking bitch when I do! And NOW I get to cook dinner, YIPPIE-YAHOO!”

“Ok, well I’m going to take the Van up to have the oil changed.” He mumbles, dashing out the door.

Well that’s just stinking awesome! “The beach was nice, thanks for asking and ya might want to have them lube a bit more then the car while your there, CAUSE I’M GOING TO BE TIRED TONIGHT!!!”

If he wasn’t so cute, I would consider leaving him forever. MEN!



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10 things you never wanted to know about me…

>> Monday, July 12, 2010

But I’m going to tell ya anyway.


1. I have a one inch gross scar over my right Butt cheek where an ugly mole was removed. And with the mole went all my hopes and dreams of ever becoming a Playboy bunny.

2. In my teens I worked at McDonald's and ended up dating my Manager…Would you like fries with that?

3. I have 5 wisdom teeth which I am to freaked out to have pulled. Plus I’d no longer be very wise if I did, right? Or would I be wise to have them pulled? I know who gives a rat’s fart.

4. In my early 20s I worked at Meier & Frank and dated my Manager. (What he was hot.)

5. If by bad fortune or bad foresight, I should happen to notice to late there is no TP left on the roll, I’ll wipe with my bath towel. Oh come on… like you’ve never done that! Sheesh...

6. When I turn off the light…I dash for my bed for fear of being grabbed in the dark. Just typing this gives me the creeps.

7. I was born on a U.S. Air Force base. At the time my Father was serving time in the clink for selling pot on base. I’m so proud of him, served our country in more ways then one.

8. When I pick up the Dog's poop in the yard…I fantasize about putting it in a box and shipping it to my nasty old boss. What…don’t judge me.

9. I pick my toenails, I can't help myself…It drives my husband crazy! And drives off any chance I Had at becoming a foot modal. 

10. I’m a big Dork!

But you already know that…Are you still with me?
 If so you should know my biggest blogging pet peeve is when someone comments and have clearly not read anything but the title of my post, I mean really, you can fake it better then that. So if you made it this far…congratulations you have won this amazing blogging award. But first you have to comment with something completely off the wall….like “My dog eats worms.” And as always….I’ll hit ya back. Cause I love ya and that’s how I roll.

A Big Thank you to Grownupforeal for this awesome award!

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That's NOT Chocolate syrup dummy

>> Thursday, July 8, 2010

As you may already know, blogging is my new hobby; I enjoy writing mostly as a stress release. I also love making ya’ll laugh, even if at my own expense.


I have sacrificed a lot for my new hobby. One major sacrifice is my Facebook games. All my Fishville fish are belly up and pets are running amuck in Petville. I am sad to say my Farmville farm is looking extremely neglected. My crops are all wilted, my dog has long since run away, my trees are heavy with rotten fruit, and my poor farm animals...well lets just say I think PETA is about to shut me down.

I’ve sacrificed sleeping, eating (you may not know by looking at me, but I’ve skipped a few meals) and now to top it all off I’ve sacrificed my beauty…that’s right my beauty.

Last week while I was plugging away at a post my dear sweet daughter came to me looking like this…

Can you tell what is all over her sweet face? That is ALL my new whipped (very expensive) foundation. She took advantage of a very distracted mommy to get into her makeup bag and completely clean out a jar of foundation.

And if that was not enough, today as (I thought) all the kids were happily playing Wii; I was doing some blog hopping. Oh but what a fool am I. This is what my little turd dear sweet amazing daughter was doing…

At first I thought for sure she had gotten into the chocolate syrup... But then I looked closer…

WTF is that?? It was everywhere, up her arms down her legs. I started to freak out when it all started to slowly compute in my head…

”Oh No Maggie…no. no. no.” I mutter to myself running down the stairs to find this…

That’s my purse strung all over the kitchen floor…

This was my favorite NEW lipstick…the one I spent over an hour with the MaryKay lady to get just the right color.

And this is what the rest of my lipsticks look like…

My daughter had lipstick shoved so far up her nose, I couldn’t get it all out in the bath, she looked on the verge of a bloody nose all day. Then all the lipstick didn’t wash off her skin or hair completely… she looked all bruised and beat up…I was afraid to take her out of the house…she might be mistaken for an unwanted redheaded step child.

So the next time you see me all freckled faced and pail lipped you’ll know why.



A big Thank you to Nicole at Thats life for this blog award!
I'd love to take the time, follow the rules and pass it on...but I need to check on my kids...don't ya think?

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React first and think later

>> Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Ya know how the smell of cookies baking can make you happy; your feeling happy right now aren’t you? Don’t you just want one? Fresh from the oven, with some cold milk. Are you smiling with me, mouth watering just a little?


Now how about the sent of a warm, fresh dirty nappy? Nope, a loaded diaper does not invoke the same kind of reaction as home made chocolate chip cookies.

I would do about anything to get me some fresh cookies once I caught the smell of them baking. And I have done some major weird stuff to avoid having to change a pooh filled pamper!
According to some articles I have read….its not my fault!

Scent stimulates nerves to fire in the emotional center of the brain, but it also stimulates the master gland to release hormones. Hormones affect the fight or flight response, as well as digestion and heart rate.
Anxiety, depression, fear, anger, and joy all emanate from this region. The scent of a special fragrance can evoke memories and emotions before we are even consciously aware of it. When smells are concerned, we react first and think later.
(Source LeDoux, JE, Rationalizing Thoughtless Emotions, Insight, Sept. 1989)

Like when I’m working in the Church Nursery with another volunteer. If I catch a faint whiff of something funny, I react first and think later. My first reaction when I know one of them rug rats just laid a major loaf is to slowly move to the other side of the room.

If I can keep my gag reflex under control, my second reaction is to play dumb. Act like I don’t smell it in hopes the other volunteer will take care of it. But chances are she is playing dumb too. Well I’m not backing down…now it’s a game of will power…who can stand the smell the longest. She has no Idea who she is up against…I estimate in my life time as a mother I’ve changed over 4500 poopie droopies. I got this!

I know I’m winning when I see her eyes start to water…HA! So now we are both avoiding eye contact when one of the little buggers blurts…

“Ewwwww poo poo tink, poo poo tink!”  Dang gumit!! When did that bugger learn to talk?

There is something just so wrong with crawling around on the floor and sniffing little back-sides, but that’s just what we had to do to find the guilty party.  This does not make me a happy camper,  and I don't care what kind of saint you think you are...No one would be happy doing this.  

In my head I say a little prayer as I sniff little bums, I was on my knees after-all.
"Please God ….please let her find the pooper…I’ll never yell at my kids again! Please don’t make me clean up the doo doo." What!  I'm in a Church, it can’t hurt right?  Please don't think I'm a bad person...I'm not really…I love babies…just not their crap…anyway it’s the hormones talking!

I suddenly have a craving for home made cookies….





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Blue Dragonflys

>> Saturday, July 3, 2010

One year ago today, a dear friend of mine lost her hold on this life. After almost three months in a coma, brought on by traumatic brain injury, she left us surrounded by her loved ones, gracefully landing in the arms of Jesus.



On Emily’s 25th birthday she got into a car with a intoxicated driver, never to see her two amazing children, husband, or wonderful family again.

This blog became part of my grief process, helping me deal with her loss though blissful writing, however it was not always so blissful. During her three month struggle for life, I kept a journal that acted as a punching bag of sorts, inking out my rage, pain, and fear. Rage at the driver, Pain of her loss, Fear & heartbreak for her Family.

As part of this process, I’m posting what I read at her service. Emily is gone, but what she gave lives deep in my soul. Rage, pain and fear will not replace the Joy she has filled me with.

Emily’s service

I am so grateful for Emily in my life.

Sometime God puts people in your life that you would least suspect. I would never have foreseen us becoming so close. But God had other plans.

I ended up in the bible study Emily hosted in her home….around the corner from my home.
I feel sorry for the husbands in that study as everyone of us gals ended up pregnant over the first year, 5 of us. Don’t drink the water at the Buck’s!
You know nothing bonds woman together more then crazy hormones and ultrasound photos!

So with walks around the neighborhood, shopping, play dates, and lots girl talk.. I was blessed with getting to know Emily and the true Magical person she was.

Emily never held back when it came to letting you know how she felt about you. She was like a cheerleader in that way. Often telling me that I was an Awesome mom, wife.. friend.

At our last bible study, the Wednesday before the accident. The question was asked in the study...
 “Who has inspired you in your spiritual growth,”  Emily's cheerful reply was “well Michelle has”.. my comeback... “oh your just saying that cause I’m sitting here”… she then told me to shut up and tossed a baby toy at me.

Well the truth is Emily inspired me!

Her giving spirit and love for others, the grace she carried naturally. She pulled a warmth out from deep inside my heart. Emily was like an old soul with a great wonder in her eyes, But with the innocents of a child that didn’t know the ugliness of the world. She was free of the bitterness so many seem to carry. A bitterness that holds us back from telling those close, I love you. Her heart held no shame. I saw that Emily filled herself with up with the love of her children, family, and friends. She did it by giving her love without end or conditions.

She never held back a hug, a joke, a smile, or a tear. Emily just didn’t hold back and she shard it with everyone. She loved life!

So having learned that from her…I’m going to honor her life by spreading her Joy in my own life. By Hugging that neck squeezing that shoulder, sharing that smile and even that tear. Her Joy, her love will live in me always.


A Friend

What is a friend? I’ll tell you.

It’s it a person with whom you dare to be yourself.

Your soul can go naked with her.

She seems to ask you to put on nothing, only to be what you really are.

When you are with her, you do not have to be on your guard.

You can say what you think, so long as it is genuinely you.

She understands those contradictions in your nature that cause others to misjudge you.

With her you breathe freely – you can avow your little vanities and envies and absurdities and in opening them up to her they are dissolved on the white ocean of her loyalty.

She understands. You can weep with her, laugh with her, pray with her- through and underneath it all she sees, knows and loves you.

A friend, I repeat, is one with whom you dare to be yourself.

-author unknown

                                                   In Loving Memory

                                           ~ Emily Ann Buck~     
                                                May 9 1984 - July 3 2009




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