Memories are living things, at least mine are. I have very vivid memories of my childhood, exciting times, vacations. The special ones are my moments. I have a very few, very special moments. I can feel and smell and be in these moments at any time, because they are magic. One of my very first special moments was combing a dying mans' hair. I was ten years old and my world, my grandffather was dying of colon cancer. Everyone has that one special grand parent, and he was mine. He was magic, he was like Dr. Seuss's mischevious better half. Cancer is evil and jealous and it wanted all of his amazing life spirit. Not long before he slipped away from me he called me his little nurse and asked me to comb his hair. He was still making magic and pretend for me. He laid on his couch and let me comb his hair and he was mine.
I surveyed with my dad when I was sixteen. His partner died unexpectedly, and he asked me to help him finish a few jobs. The jobs kept coming that summer, so we kept working. He got me my very own machete, and he taught me how to use it. We worked the hardest job I had ever had that summer. Cutting line through swamps and through rivers and mud, I think it was about a hundred acres total. We sat on the tailgate of his truck, hot as hell, sharing water and Vienna sausages for our lunch. I have never been more proud to be his daughter. He is my shining example of what a Godly, hard-working man should be. I can still smell our sweat, feel the sun bearing down on us, and my dad was all mine.
When I was thirty I had the good fortune to have a blood clot. I thought I was strong and capable and God showed me I am but a fleeting piece of humanity. A surgery that was supposed to be a three day hospital stay turned into a twenty-three day ICU ordeal with too many complications to name. I became so worn down, so weak. My Sweetness stayed every night, would go shower and see the kids for a couple hours and come back to take care of me. When I was at my lowest, in walked my Sweetness with our kids' travel DVD player, a bucket of microwave popcorn and a chick flick. He smiled and told me " I came to take my best girl on a date". I never saw the movie, my lung collapsed shortly after that and I was rushed off to surgery. But that smile, those weary eyes full of worry, the confidence he faked for my benifit. That was our moment and he will forever be mine.
I love to work out and I have found my tribe. I joined Crossfit Fortify about a month ago and was asked to be a fill in on their team for a competition. This past weekend I had a moment at that competition. My nerves had me almost paralyzed as our team was called to get ready for our first heat. My coach was up first and I watched him rip through his sprint and weights, terrified that I was next. I know it was loud but I couldn't hear anyone. When my turn came I ran. Once I was back I had to complete a set of twenty seventy-five pound thrusters. I have never pushed myself so hard physically that my emotions overpowered me, until this past weekend. I think I have always done just the opposite, I work out to work through my emotions and handle them. Saturday I pushed my body until it stopped. I actually felt tears spring into my eyes when I had two more reps to do. My lungs and my entire body screamed at me to stop, then I looked and saw my kids. I saw them worried. I finished because Turner and Tate willed me to. Sweat running into my eyes, pain and pride running through my body, and my childrens clear blue eyes watching me. That was my moment. Seeing the two who I made, knowing I am forever thiers.
