Thanks for the memories

Sugar Bolick

June 25, 1993-August 3, 2009

The Fur Sister. . .Best Friend. . .
Loyal Companion. . .Sweetest Dog in the World

“Sometimes love means letting go. Ask
whether the really bad days are outnumbering
the good ones. Putting an end to suffering
is a final act of love. Remember that you have
given your dog unconditional love during
her lifetime. She needs your strength and
love even more so now. You can give your
dog the opportunity to leave this life
with dignity. Death is a part of life.”

Love you forever, Sugar.

There will come a day. . .

Note: Individual Education Plan. . .a tool used in Special Ed to plan for the needs of students who need modification

We had an appointment on March 3rd. Something that for so long seemed elusive, too far in the future to contemplate: Hannah had her LAST IEP meeting. It was all very routine and went fine. . .it was over and we all went about our day. Then, for whatever reason, 2 days later, it all hit me like a ton of bricks, and the tears have been bubbling just below the surface ever since. It was her LAST one! I can remember with crystal clarity her FIRST IEP. It was in 1996, in the first grade. . .and now here we finally were. . .at her last one. It struck me much like they say one's life flash's before one's eyes in a sometimes traumatic moment. . .13 long years of challenges, victories and struggles. . .countless days when we were SO overwhelmed and the hundreds of times we wondered if we were doing enough. . . and the constant baby steps on the journey that will culminate exactly one month from today. Hannah will graduate from high school. And she will GRADUATE. Fortunately, in the State of Texas, her diploma will look the same as anyone else's, not a "Certificate of Completion" as some states do. May be a minute point to some. . .but to a kid who has spent her life feeling different, it's a big deal.

I know full well that this is not the last hurdle. . .far from it. The rest of life awaits her (and us) and figuring out what kind of supported environment she will need. . . what kind of job she will be able to do. . .and all the rest. But we'll think about that. . .maybe in July. . .for now we are going to celebrate! Celebrate Hannah's arrival at a place that seemed so far away for so long. Celebrate the people who have lovingly walked beside us on this journey. The ones who have listened, counseled, held our hands, prayed and guided us through the unknown. There is no adequate way to thank them. . .but God knows who they are and what they've done. . .and I've asked Him many times to bless them.

Whew! I think it's time to start planning a graduation party!

Sacred Moment

Strangest thing just happened.  I was returning from a morning of errands. . .one which took me a little ways down into north Dallas. I decided to come back a different way. . .explore a bit. . .take streets I have not yet been on. It's a pretty, sunny, unusually warm winter day in North Texas and I was only heading home to do housework. . .so I decided not to hurry.

As I made my way back, there was a bit of a wait at a train crossing.  As I pulled to a stop I saw that the entire train was transporting military vehicles. . .humvees, jeeps, trucks.  I mindlessly watched for a few minutes while I listened to music. As I looked, I noticed that they appeared  new. Some were camouflage, some were sand color. . .and that's when I slowly came to the realization that these were probably headed somewhere to be shipped out to another country. . .some place in the desert. . .Iraq?? Afganistan?  It was at that point, I felt like it became a sacred moment. . .because as I looked at the empty vehicles chained to the flatbeds of the cargo train. . .I knew that those would be, at some point, occupied with American troops. Men and women. . .husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters. . .defending my rights and assuring my safety as I obliviously enjoyed a day in my own little world in Plano, Texas.

Overwhelmingly, there was only one thing that seemed appropriate to do at that moment. . .as the long line of the train continued to pass.  Pray.  To turn off the music, grasp the significance of the scene passing before me. . .and pray. So I did. I prayed for every single man and woman who would someday be an occupant of each of those vehicles. I prayed for safety. I prayed for wisdom as they navigate dangerous roadways in a far off, hostile land.  I prayed for clarity and intuition that might, in some perilous situation, cause them to turn to the left or the right and avoid a hidden threat. I prayed that they would sense the very arms of God wrapped around them in a dangerous, deadly, lonely place.  And I thanked God for every one of them. . .for their willingness to put themselves in harms way. . .a world away. . .for us.