Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to you!

As the new year approaches many of us take time to reflect on the past year and look forward to the new one. We resolve to make the upcoming year better than the last. With hopes and dreams we make our resolution lists...

My list is pretty short for 2012. I resolve to live in the moment and to always give back. Not sure what this will all entail yet but I plan to figure it out as I go. Guided by faith, love, hopes, and dreams- my wish is to make the world a better place, one tiny step at a time.

May you ring in 2012 with peace and love!

<---------- P. S. One of my new favorite quotables. Found this on another blog and fell in love!

You are not alone...

For everyone that is feeling the excruciating pain that the loss of a loved one brings this Christmas, please know that you are not alone- not to rejoice because others are hurting, but to take comfort in the fact that others understand your pain and grief.

It was just over a decade ago that my grandpa died on Christmas Eve. Not that he really had any control over his time of death, but, I believe in my heart that he knew Christmas Eve was the only time the entire family would be together. We all got to be with him that night as he slowly faded. He couldn’t have chosen a more perfect time to die- surrounded by the ones that loved the him most. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. And while the memories are still painful, they are peaceful as well. We all still miss him immensely.

I came across the following words last night in book called “The In-Between” by Erica Staab. It’s an incredible and powerful short little book about the journey we take when we are in the process of healing from the depths of the pain and grief that only the loss of a loved one brings.

“When I listen closely I can hear your heart breaking, I don’t have to know what caused you such pain, what tears at the fabric of your heart. I can feel how deep your loss is, I can see the tears held behind your eyes. I can hear the catch in your voice when you say “I’m fine.”

Although all of our journeys look different-
often they begin in the same place-
that of torn faith, of a shattered heart,
of a moment in time where the world stopped
and where life seemed to stand still...”

For everyone reeling from the pain of a lost loved one this Christmas, take comfort in the love that family and friends bring. Know that at sometime in the future, you will be okay. Take comfort in the fact that you are never alone.

Peace and love to everyone this season and Merry Christmas. Wrap yourselves in the arms of your loved ones and rejoice.

The fail of Penn State and society

College football fan or not, odds are you’ve heard about the sexual abuse scandal that has rocked Penn State over the last couple of weeks. In case you missed it, Jerry Sandusky, a 67 year-old former assistant football coach and founder of The Second Mile, originally a group home for at-risk boys and now a charity, was arrested and charged (after a three-year investigation) with 40 criminal counts for allegedly sexually abusing at least eight boys over a 15-year period.

In the fall-out since his arrest, Penn State athletic director Tim Curley and Senior Vice President for Finance and Business Gary Schultz have resigned and been criminally charged. Long-time head football coach Joe Paterno and university president Graham Spanier have been fired and assistant football coach Mike McQueary has been placed on administrative leave.

The abuse of the eight victims in this case dates back to the early 1990’s. It wasn’t until 1998, after an 11 year-old boy was dropped off at home with wet hair after showering with Sandusky, that the first police reports were filed. Sandusky admitted  to the boy’s mother later on that he had showered with her son (and with other boys) and promised never to do it again. The case was eventually closed and no criminal charges filed.

In 2000, a janitor caught Sandusky in the showers performing oral sex on another victim. He did nothing to stop the assault but immediately reported what he saw to other janitorial staff including the supervisor. The supervisor told the janitor who he should report to but the witnessing janitor was a temp worker and failed to make the report. The police were never contacted.

In 2002, McQueary, who was then a graduate assistant at Penn State, walked into the locker room and witnessed Sandusky raping an approximately 10-year old boy in the showers. McQueary did nothing to stop the attack but instead went home and told his father (McQueary later stated that when he left the locker room, the attack had been stopped.)

The next morning, McQueary reported the rape to Paterno who reported the rape to Curley. Later on in the month, McQueary was questioned by Curley and Schulz. McQueary was never questioned by anyone else. Curley later reported to him that Sandusky’s locker room keys were taken from him and that they had alerted the Second Mile. Not a single person contacted the police.

In 2008, yet another victim’s mother reports to her son’s school that he has been sexually assaulted by Sandusky. The school contacted the police department and Sandusky was subsequently barred from the school district. In 2009 an investigation was finally launched. It wasn’t until November 2011 that Sandusky was finally arrested. It took nearly 13 years after the first report for him to be stopped.

As a sexual assault victim’s advocate, mother, and simply as a human being, this story makes my blood boil! Besides the obvious outrage at Sandusky, the failure by several adults to stop a child molester was just as outrageous. I knew I wanted to publicly address this situation but I was struggling to know where to begin. Should I write about how child molesters seek out positions that give them easy access to kids? Do I write about how institutions are masters at protecting the institution and not the people hurt by it? Should I toss out some statistics like “93% of children that are sexually abused know their abuser?” Child safety tips? How to report a sexual assault? How society enables abusers? Or maybe I could talk about the devastating effects of childhood sexual abuse? The possibilities were endless! It took spending some time teaching first graders what to do if somebody tries to hurt them to make it a little clearer for me.

We teach our children to tell someone, to find somebody to believe them, to find an adult to trust if they are sexually abused. Therein lies the problem- as adults we fail-time and time again-to do the right thing for our children when it comes to sexual abuse and it’s aftermath. While Penn State is a failure of epic proportions by adults to do the right thing, in our own communities we fail our children in the same way every single day.

We fail our children when we refuse to believe them when they finally report abuse. We fail our children when we refuse to believe that our spouses, grandparents, brothers, uncles, neighbors, and friends could commit sexual crimes against our children. We fail our children when we make it so difficult for them after they do report abuse that they often times change their story so the adults in their life are no longer upset. We fail our children when they trust us to protect them from harm and we don’t. We fail our children when we don’t trust that nagging feeling in our gut when something just doesn’t seem right about a person or a situation. We fail our children-time and time again- because it’s easier to believe that childhood sexual abuse happens in communities other than our own.

And while it’s hard to believe that there are adults out there that harm our children in the most horrific of ways, it’s even more difficult to believe when the abuser is a person we may know and respect, even more so when it’s a person we may love. Regardless, as adults there is really not an excuse good enough for failing to report child sexual abuse, no matter who the abuser is. There really isn’t an excuse good enough for not believing our children.

All the players in the Penn State scandal failed to do the right thing for Sandusky’s victims. Sadly, but not unexpectedly, since the allegations have arisen more victims have come forward. Stories of sexual abuse by Sandusky are now dating back to the 1970’s. We can only speculate how many children Sandusky has abused over the years. We can only speculate how many victims could have been spared if somebody would have stepped up and done the right thing years ago. As a society we need to stop failing our children- their lives and well-being depend on it.

The Susan G. Komen 3-Day

“Often times while walking, words were not even being said. It was a spiritual moment in a sense-- telling yourself, you can do it, thinking about how tired you are, but then realizing that no matter how tired and sore I was, this was minimal compared to what a cancer patient goes through.” Joy Stanghelle, Hotties-4-Hooters 2011.

From left Tanya, Betty, and Sandi- The Hotties Survivors!

A walk for breast cancer. Three days. 60 miles. This was the extent of the journey for some. For others, the journey is much longer. Every year over 192,000 new cases of breast cancer are diagnosed and over 40,000 will die from this disease. During three days in August 2011, 2,100 walkers participated in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Event that took place in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. Included in those 2,100 walkers were the Hotties-4-Hooters, 20 area women who teamed up to raise money, awareness, and support for breast cancer research. Of those 20, three were breast cancer survivors themselves: Betty Strommer, Tanya Hoekstra, and Sandi Gunter.

The Hotties team got its start in 2007 when Strommer was just finishing chemotherapy and radiation treatments from her breast cancer battle. The first year, her daughter Ann Studer, daughter-in-law Amanda Strommer, and her cousins teamed up to walk in support of Strommer. Since then, she has walked every year. The 2011 walk was her fifth.

“Each year I walked, except the first, I've walked in honor of a friend,” said Strommer. “That was the reason I would sign up again. And each year, I have not been disappointed in the excitement and electricity of each day’s events-- from opening to closing ceremonies, to the fun crew members, to the imaginative pit stops, to the evening entertainment, to sleeping in the tents-- it's all good!” she said.

Hoekstra’s reasons for getting involved in the walk were two-fold she said. “First of all, I always admired Betty for walking year after year. She truly inspired me. Secondly, along with that set inspiration, coincidentally, I was diagnosed myself in May 2010. It was a six-month battle and struggle that gave me a whole new outlook on life and friendships.”

She continued, “I absolutely loved the whole 3-Day experience, so many different people with their own story coming together for one common cause.” She recounted one of the many survivor stories over the three days. “I will never forget walking with an elderly man around 80 years old that was walking alone in honor of his wife while holding her teddy bear. We never thought he would ever make the entire 60 miles. However, at each pit stop, there he was! He would encourage us just as we encouraged him. It was incredible.”

Between Strommer’s and Hoekstra’s cancer battles, was Gunter’s, who was diagnosed and completed treatment, a couple of years ago.

“The Susan G. Komen was an experience I have wanted to do for years,”  Gunter said. “Walking 60 miles in three days scared me to no end! Then my daughter Heidi (Ulferts) said, ‘Yes mom, you can do it, I'll do it with you.’ “Alison Gunter, her other daughter, and her friend Katie Pieper came aboard and “it was an adventure for the memory book!” She continued, “I thoroughly enjoyed the walk, all the excitement! Each day was a new day full of fun and memories.”

The 2011 event began with an opening ceremony at Southdale Mall and ended with a survivor walk at the capitol building in St. Paul. Several thousand people gathered to cheer them on. Along the way were pit-stops, cheering stations, survivor stories, and stories of those that didn’t survive.  Add to that, sleeping in two-person tents, using porta-potties for three days, and discovering blisters the size of mountains on their feet are experiences that won’t be forgotten any time soon. Every one of the 20 "Hotties" has their own experiences and memories that they took with them from the event.

The 3-Day itself is a well-orchestrated machine. There are stops complete with snacks, beverages, and medical help every few miles. Sweep vans patrol the route to help those struggling and carry them to the next pit stop where they can recharge or hop a bus back to camp. There were also volunteer staff at each busy intersection to insure the walker’s safety.

At the campsite itself, row upon row of pink tents lined the camp. Hot showers, meals, massage chairs, cell phone charging stations, and laptops were provided.

A giant medical tent was situated in the middle of the camp, where the wait for non-emergency services, blister care and sore muscles being tops, was sometimes well over an hour long. Doctors, nurses, and EMT’s all volunteered their time for the event where dehydration proved to be the biggest emergency concern for the medical staff.

The Hotties were not without some serious medical concerns of their own. Besides giant blisters, extremely sore legs, and even a bone separation in one team member’s foot, one member of the Hotties team passed out after the second day and was treated with two bags of IV fluids and monitored closely. She was cleared to walk the final day but was heavily cautioned to drink ample Gatorade and water or she would not be allowed to complete the walk. While she was being treated, a walker from another team passed out and was taken away by ambulance. Inside the tent, several other walkers were being given IV fluids and monitored closely. Ibuprofen, ice, and Bio-freeze were handed out like candy at Halloween.

To participate in the 3-Day, the walkers had to commit to raising at least $2,300.00 each. The Hotties team raised $48,493.50 the fourth highest amount of the 2011 Minnesota event, all with the support of family, friends, and the surrounding communities. Several fundraisers were held including a One-Stop Shop/Tour of Homes, a bash at Keggers, another bash and silent auction in New Prague (Studer’s town), a purse sale, and sales of “pink” merchandise among other smaller fundraisers. Eva Priebe, owner of Amish Creations, even organized a table setting event for the Clara City businesses to participate in. The proceeds were donated to the team. Hoekstra, who was the spearhead of the 2011 Hotties team, said that the walk wouldn't have been possible without the support of the area businesses, civic groups, and the surrounding community, “It was amazing to see all the local businesses and community "think pink" and donate to every fundraiser or simply drop a check in the mail to one of our many teammates. Their support was truly appreciated." That sentiment was echoed by one of the volunteer staff at the event when she expressed her amazement that the team had raised such a large amount of money in such a small community.

The highlight of the weekend came at the closing ceremonies when Strommer, Gunter, and Hoekstra led all of the participating survivors in the Survivor Walk, the emotional conclusion to the event which this year raised over 5 million dollars for breast cancer research. “I was proud to hold Betty's hand along side of Tanya to walk the Survivor Walk. That gave me the thrills and tears to make the walk so worth it,” said Gunter. Hoekstra agreed, “The Survivor Walk was an experience of a lifetime. Walking hand-in-hand with Betty and Sandi was a wonderful ending to an amazing weekend. And, having my family there to greet me at the finish line, that was the icing on the cake.”

As for future walks, Strommer isn’t for sure if she is walking for a sixth time or not. “As far as walking again next year? I walk in honor or in memory of someone usually so hopefully, I'll never have to walk again.” She hasn’t completely ruled out walking just for the the challenge though and plans to stay involved with the team regardless of if she walks or not.

Hoekstra is signed up already for next year’s event. “I will walk again, absolutely! I am already signed up for 2012. I am always up to a challenge.” Gunter concurred, “Will I do it again? You bet!." Adding words of encouragement to those who may be thinking about walking, Gunter said,  "If you have ever walked the journey of breast cancer with someone, walk the Susan G Komen 3-Day. You can do it.”

A 2012 team is already forming and fundraisers are being planned. “Our first big fundraiser will be Dec. 3.” said Hoekstra. “ It includes a one-stop shop, bake sale, soup and sandwich lunch Hinterland Vineyards, and a hayride ending with a home tour at the Epemas. We are really excited for that day!”

Three days. 60 miles. Blisters to last a lifetime.

All of us Hotties on day one!

It was August of 2010 when I committed to walk in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day event as part of the Hotties-4-Hooters team. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, I only knew that I wanted to walk to support my friend Tanya who had been diagnosed with breast cancer in May and also for my coworker Gloria who had been diagnosed in July and died a couple of days after I committed to the walk. I had a year to train and raise the required $2,300. No worries, right?

I should have learned in my 42 years that anytime I think something this big is going to be a piece of cake, that it won’t be. It’s usually quite the opposite. Three days of non-stop walking would have been much easier if I actually stopped to think that it might be really, really difficult. It may have been easier if I had stopped to think that my aging, overweight body might not sail through it like I was still 20. Why follow the recommended training schedule, because really, how bad could it be? We’re just walking, right? Piece of cake.

Day One:

We stayed in a luxury hotel, you know, the kind with white, fluffy robes, the night before the opening ceremonies. Knowing that we were going to be sleeping in tents for the next two nights and using port-a-potties for three days made the stay extra special.

Up way before sunrise, we set out for the opening festivities--  a bit anxious for what was to come. There were a few in our group that had walked before but most of us were newbies to the event. Excitement filled the air as thousands of walkers in pink lined the sidewalks as we set out on our journey. Our group of 20 quickly separated and grouped off according to our collective paces. I was lucky enough to “collect” with a group that was content on finding a steady pace, taking in the sights, and resting quite frequently. In other words? We were the “slow, but fun” group.

Oh yeah, we had fun!

The route on day one was spectacular! We walked through some beautiful residential areas, the Lake of the Isles, around Lake Calhoun, through the sculpture park, historic downtown Minneapolis, and along the Mississippi. We even got to see the 35W Bridge Memorial which had recently been unveiled.

Rest stops every couple of miles provided food, water, band-aids, Gatorade, and the glorious mini-biffs. There were sweep vans along the route to pick up walkers that were struggling and also to move the stragglers along as there was a time schedule every day.  We moved through day one rather uneventfully. By the time we reached camp we were sore and tired but feeling alright.

Wanting to feel clean and refreshed before supper, I grabbed my change of clothes and shower gear and headed for the showers. I had been told to make sure to eat before showering, horror stories of people passing out in the showers had been told, but I felt just fine. I could wait. Lots of walkers were. Piece of cake.

The shower line was only about 15-20 minutes long but a funny thing happened the longer I waited. I began to feel warm, then a little woozy, then a little warmer and a little more woozy. Finally, it was my turn for the showers. I walked up the steps and suddenly the steamy confines of the shower room hit me like a brick wall. A few expletives no doubt flew out of my mouth as I was sure I was heading for faint city.

I quickly found my stall, leaned up against the wall and repeated to myself over and over and over-- I will not pass out and be hauled out of here naked, I will not pass out and be hauled out of here naked, I will not pass out and be hauled out of here naked... It took about five minutes but I finally managed to turn the shower on COLD and hopped in. It was only by sheer will and the grace of God that I stayed on my feet and was able to walk (barely) out of there fully clothed and not lying flat, naked on a stretcher.

I had found out the hard way that dehydration is a beast, I vowed to drink incessantly the rest of the weekend, and by the end of day one I had crossed “running a marathon” off my bucket list. After just walking 20 miles and nearly passing out, I decided that anybody that would want to run that far and more, willingly, had to be crazy.

Day Two:

Was there a day two? Quite frankly, the whole morning of day two is actually quite a blur to me. Our group was definitely feeling the pain of day one, most had several blisters and one member had developed a very painful foot (we found out later that night that some bones in her foot had separated, yikes!) But, we made it to lunch and we were happy to be half way through the day. A few miles after lunch though, the miles caught up with us and we decided it was in the best interest of the group to cut our losses, hop the bus back to camp, and regroup for the final day. This was a decision that none of us regretted even though it meant we’d be a few miles short of the full 60 miles. We made it back to camp, got in line for mini massages, and psyched ourselves up for the final day.

Mini massages after day two. Ahhhh....

 
Day Three:

My worst (yes, worse than the shower incident) physical struggles came early that morning. I fell behind my group and actually thought at one point that I wasn’t going to make it-- literally. While passing out on the sidewalk didn’t sound like fun, it was definitely not as horrifying as passing out in the shower so I decided to somehow push through it and keep going. Finally, about a half mile before rest stop number two, I hailed the sweep van ready to give it up. I had walked by somebody being hauled away in an ambulance and I decided that’s not how I wanted my morning or the end of my three days to go.

A funny thing happened at the rest stop though, I discovered that Bio-freeze is not just a pain-relieving gel in a tube, it’s actually a pain-relieving gel sent from heaven. I iced my throbbing knees, legs, and feet, slathered on the freeze, and downed a handful of ibuprofen. A salty snack and some Gatorade and I was starting to feel like I might live. Only 13 more miles to go! Whoo hoo! Bring it on! By this time I had also put “running a marathon” back on my bucket list because running 26 miles at one shot had to be a piece of cake compared to this, right?

At the lunch stop a few miles later, I reconnected with my walking partners and we successfully completed the remaining nine miles or so of the walk. I popped ibuprofen like candy and re-Biofreezed every chance I could but I made it. We made it. There is no way I would have finished without the support of the wonderful women I was walking with. I still get the giggles when I think of some of our conversations that lifted us through the tough spots and kept us focused on the finish line.

Most of us went home with blisters and pain in places we didn’t know possible. One teammate actually did pass out on day two and spent a couple of hours in the med tent being re-hydrated with IV fluids. Another was sure she would be losing a few toenails at some point and others had the absolute biggest blisters that I have ever seen. My dear friend, who incidentally was the one that passed out, was examining her blisters on the way home when her son leaned over to me and said, “I can see the sunlight through mom’s blister.” That said it all.

As for me, my legs from the knees on down were swollen for over three weeks. Last weekend at a 5k walk/run I discovered that I had a couple of blisters that still haven’t completely healed. It’s been two months! Also, unfortunately by the looks of it, I may still lose a toenail. Luckily, it’s not sandal season.

For all of us, the 3-Day was an experience we’ll never forget. Besides our survivors, a few in our group made some pretty big personal sacrifices to go to the 3-Day. We all had our own personal reasons for participating in such an important event. Some will walk again, some won’t, but I think we’ll all somehow stay involved in the fight against breast cancer.

We also all knew that the temporary aches and pains we felt were nothing compared to the battles that cancer patients face. Survivors and their families lined the trails of the 3-day cheering us on, thanking us for walking and for supporting them. Sometimes, it was just the families with pictures of their lost loved ones- that’s when you had to choke back the tears. Their spirit made it easy to keep going despite the physical pain we were feeling at the moment.

Besides our new-found appreciation for indoor plumbing, we all took away our own experiences from the walk that have no doubt forever changed us for the better some how. For that, I will always be grateful.

To the Hotties of 2012, piece of cake! To the Hotties of 2011, thanks for the fun and memories. Our journey will be with me for a lifetime. So will my blisters.

After a MUCH need cold beverage at a St. Paul restaurant just before we crossed the finish line.

Life begins...

 “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.”
- Neale Donald Walsch

I watched my husband face his biggest fear on Friday when he boarded a plane for New Jersey. Flying has terrified him for years even though he’s never been on a plane, known anybody that has ever been hurt on an airplane, or even known anybody that has had any sort of trouble at an airport! His fear, coupled with other anxieties, has been gripping. Over the years he has missed out on several opportunities for travel with family and friends because of his fear of flight. It took our daughter moving to a college in New Jersey this fall for him to finally conquer that fear. When he set foot on that plane he catapulted himself right out of his comfort zone and I can’t help but think life will be just a little different for him in the future. He has a whole new world in front of him now that he has burst out of his comfort zone and faced his fears head on.

The hub as we were about to take flight!

When I first read the Walsch quote a few weeks ago I immediately jotted it down in my journal. What a great piece of wisdom and so completely true. It really applied to the hub and his fear of flying. I then thought back to the times in my life when I’ve pushed beyond what I thought I was capable of and how incredible I felt afterward. This quote captures the essence of that feeling.

I wish that every person, especially those with anxieties, would find the end of their comfort zone. I wish that everyone could experience their life to its fullest- whatever their fullest may be. They would find out that a funny thing happens when you finally conquer something you once thought incredibly impossible. Your comfort zone moves up a notch, your world gets a little bigger, and you begin to see things just a little differently. The impossible becomes the possible and you begin to wonder, “What’s next?”

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.”  I am hoping that quote will help to catapult me to the next level in my comfort zone. There are some goals I have set for myself and once I attain them, I know my life will be very different from that point on. It’s kind of scary to think about sometimes. With luck though,  I will be able to rocket out of my zone and then I’ll be able be able to ask “What’s next?” What about you?

We remember: A nation forever changed on 9-11-01.

Has it been a decade already? The headlines 10 years ago in the Raymond-Prinsburg News read “Apparent terrorist attack shakes the United States” and the next week “America: Under attack.” A nation was in shock over the terrorist attacks on our own soil. How could this have happened? Why did this happen? What will happen next? Those questions were on the mind of Americans everywhere as they struggled to make sense of the tragic events.

You would truly be hard-pressed in this country to find a person that doesn’t remember the events of
September 11, 2001 and what exactly they were doing when they first heard the news of a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. My kids can all tell you what class they were in and what happened after that (they were 12, 10, and 9 at the time.) Me? I had stopped at Cenex in Clara City to get some much needed coffee after back-to-back, early morning ambulance runs. The image of the first plane hitting one of the twin tower buildings was flashing across the TV screen. We watched the rest of the events unfold later on at work and listened intently, albeit in disbelief, to the radio the entire day. Minnesotans and the entire nation were gripped with fear, confusion, and extreme grief-  both for the lives lost and for a country that for the first time had been the victim of a terrorist attack of such an enormous scale. Nearly 3,000 people died as a direct result of the events of that day. This didn’t happen on our turf. It just didn’t.

Air traffic screeched to a halt, phone lines were tied up, schools closed, and prayer vigils were held everywhere across the nation. Americans banded together and flags flew where they hadn’t before. Patriotism was at an all-time high in the weeks and months following 9/11.

And still a decade later there isn’t a day that goes by that there isn’t talk of the attacks and its aftermath (think airline travel, the resulting wars, etc) somewhere in the news. We are a nation forever changed.

I have always been saddened by the loss of life on that September day in 2001 but not knowing anybody that was hurt or killed and living so far away from where the actual events took place that sadness has always been just that- sadness for a terrible event- nothing more, nothing less. It wasn’t until I visited “ground zero” a couple of weeks ago that my sadness changed to something else and I’m not even sure what that something else is.

My parents, my daughter and I decided to make our first NYC stop at “ground zero.” We enthusiastically bounded out of the subway eager to see the sight. We looked up, we looked around, we looked at the map- we didn’t see what we were looking for, although I’m not sure we knew what that was. Finally my dad asked one of the nearby police officers where “ground zero” actually was. We had been there the whole time and it was then that we actually understood. We looked up to a eerily vast empty space as he pointed out where the mighty buildings once stood. Chills crept over me as the realization of what actually happened on that day nearly 10 years ago suddenly gripped me. The gaping holes where the towers once filled the sky were suddenly so very evident. I choked back the tears as I imagined the absolute sheer terror that New Yorkers must have felt on that day. It’s gut-wrenching and heartbreaking to imagine terror of that magnitude.

It’s also so hard to fathom that some of the tallest buildings in the world were nestled among countless others in a small corner of a giant city and now they were gone- along with them 2,753 lives. Only the grace of God spared that corner of the city from more disaster and loss of life. To see the buildings that remain- you can still see the damage on some of them-is quite an incredible site.

After we returned from NYC I took some time to reflect on that visit and on the events of 9-11-01. I went back and watched some of the footage, I looked at some of the photos. Photos of stunned New Yorkers watching the towers burn and ultimately collapse, photos of people covered in thick dust running for their lives down the streets of New York, photos of firefighters emerging from still standing buildings with victims in tow- the images are incredibly haunting.

As the anniversary of the attacks approach, prayer vigils and other events are planned all over the nation, including our area. I’m not sure what I’ll do to commemorate, but it will be something. I probably wouldn’t have said that a few weeks ago.

God bless the families and friends of those that lost loved ones in the attacks. We will never forget the terrible events of that day a decade ago. We were all forever changed on September 11, 2001.

 

More Warrior Dash- Clara City Herald, August 3, 2011

Mud. Sweat. Beer. That’s what the sign at the entrance to the 2011 Warrior Dash- Minnesota said. The smell of turkey legs grilling wafted through the air and mud covered people were everywhere. An 80’s rock band was jammin’ in the background and we were nearly giddy with anticipation of what was promised by the event organizers to be “the craziest frickin’ day of our lives.”

Thousands of people everywhere!

The Warrior Dash, a brainchild of the Red Frog Events company out of Chicago, is touted as “the ultimate event for thrill-seeking athletes.” The dash is a 5k race with 10 or so obstacles tossed in for fun. On the weekend of July 22 and 23, nine warriors, myself included, from Clara City traveled to Afton Alps by Hastings, along with over 19,000 other warriors, to compete in (or at least complete) the first Warrior Dash to be held in Minnesota.

Meghan Wiebe ran on Saturday followed by the crew of Cindy Wilkens, Julie Rognlie, Merideth Mueller, and Shannon Groothuis who ran at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday. My group included Chris Wiebe, my friend Londa Burns from Montevideo, and my sons Page Hoffman and Taylor Bodin. We ran the Sunday noon race.

For our group, it all started innocently enough. A simple Facebook question posted by Chris Wiebe back in November started it all. “Anybody interested in running this (he had posted a link to the website) with me next year? Let me know.”

Meghan Wiebe in the mud pit!

Not having a clue what the “Warrior Dash” was I quickly looked it up and then messaged my kids. It looked like a lot of fun and we all thought, “It’s only a 5k with a few obstacles tossed in, we can do that no problem!”  We signed up back in January and already the Saturday dashes (waves of 500 went every half hour) were full. At that time, over 15,000 people were predicted to race. Ultimately nearly 20,000 people signed up to be a warrior.

According to race organizers, Warrior Dashes are “held on the most demanding and unique terrain from around the world. Participants will take on intense obstacles...”

Even though we all knew this event would be tough, we didn’t expect it to actually be as physically and mentally challenging as it was. After all, how tough could this terrain be? This was a ski park in Minnesota, not the Rocky Mountains. We all learned rather quickly, never to underestimate the power of a hill, even if it is in Minnesota.

The race started off rather tamely with a short ¼ mile or so run. Then the fun began.

Ahead of us was a giant ski hill, you know, the kind that requires a chairlift to get to the top. A quick look around and already 75% of the people had quit running and were walking. Meghan Wiebe, who had already completed the race on Saturday, had warned us about the first hill but nothing really could have prepared us for the length, slope, and sheer difficulty. Rognlie remarked “The first hill was like OMG what did we do!” The only one to actually “run” the entire course was Bodin who agreed with the rest of us that the hills were definitely the worst. We all “competed” at our own level which left me way behind the bulk of the competitors including the crew I signed up but that was expected given the diverse level of fitness in our group.

After the killer first hill, the course leveled off and soon we met the first obstacle fittingly called “Road Rage.”  A scramble through tires and over crushed cars- it wasn’t too bad. Then came the “Treacherous Tyhpoon,” where I discovered that it is possible to nearly drown without being submersed in water.

Shannon Groothuis, Cindy Wilkens, Julie Rognlie, and Merideth Mueller. The 8:00 a.m. crew!

None of us really thought water blasting out of cannons would be a big deal (which in retrospect seems odd.) All you had to do was run through it, right? Suddenly the water hits you. You can’t see. You can’t breath. And it doesn’t seem to end. A brief moment of panic sets in before you finally escape while desperately gasping for air.

After emerging from the typhoon the course headed downhill! After the grueling first hill, we figured we had to be heading back down for the rest of the race. No more hills, just the obstacles. Ahh, a feeling of euphoria rushes in! That is until you look up and realize that the course heads back uphill.

Throughout the rest of the race the course twisted and turned, up and down the slopes. Just when you thought you had to be done with the hills, there was another one and another one.

Soon, the obstacles began to pop up more frequently as there hadn’t been any since the “typhoon.” By this time in the race competitors were widely spread apart separating the fittest from the fit and the fit from the rest of us. In fact, Bodin nearly finished the race before I made it up the first hill.

One of the most physically challenging obstacles, at least for me, was a series of nearly five foot walls to go over alternated with wood and barbed wire walls that were to be crawled under. It was brutal. Luckily when I crossed this obstacle I was alone because I’m sure it wasn’t a pretty sight.

Most of  the remaining obstacles weren’t too bad we all concurred. A cargo net crawl, a 15’ cargo net climb, a crawl through a dark, steamy hot tent- all were challenging for each of us in our own way. 
Wilkens commented, “I made it all the way up cargo net but the person in front of me stopped and that’s when I made the mistake of looking down and down is where I needed to go! I am so afraid of heights!” She continued, “Shannon (Groothuis) rocked the cargo nets and the wall. Mar (Mueller) was great at the hills.”  

For some of us , the “Warrior Wall” posed the greatest challenge. The “Wall” was a 12’ wall with a rope to climb it, a rope and inch-wide boards every few feet. The guys didn’t have a problem with it as they all said “it was easy.” A few of us though definitely did not agree.

Some random costumed guys.

“The wooden wall got me,” Rognlie said. “half way up and I got too far away from the wall and had to drop.” As for me? I made it but I have no idea how. I pulled with absolutely everything I had, I think every muscle in my shoulder region exploded, but I made it.

After that it was down hill, through some mud, over some teeter totters, and of course one more dash up a hill before the final three obstacles, the really fun ones.

First up was a giant slip-n-slide that went at minimum, 50’ downhill. Then was the leaps over fire and the final challenge, a mud-crawl under barbed wire. All relative “pieces of cake” compared to the rest of the course. After emerging from the mud pit, it’s only a few short feet to the finish line where your warrior medal awaits.

For our warrior-like efforts, we received a tee-shirt, warrior helmet, the medal, and a free beer. Definitely worth it. The top three competitors received actual metal swords and metal warrior helmets and of course, bragging rights.

Everyone took away a little something different home from the day. Rognlie crossed it off her bucket list (but will do it again), Chris Wiebe said it was really fun cheering on friends and family, and all of us agreed that just finishing the race was pretty awesome. Even though there were times during the race that some of us thought we couldn’t go any farther you cross the finish line, your adrenaline soars, and you are sure you could do it all again right then if you had to. Hearing my friends and family cheering as I came down the final hill was something I’ll never forget.

Incredibly, Bodin finished 20th out of nearly 19,500 competitors over the two days. Hoffman finished in the top 1000 or so and Chris Wiebe in approximately the top 3600. All noteworthy achievements. For the record, I finished in 18,956th, nearly an hour behind Bodin and the last of the Clara City nine.

Although the event wasn’t held for a specific charity, like many races are, the event company “hired” charity groups to help staff the dash where groups could make up to $1,000.00 for their work. Also, participants had the chance to donate their muddy shoes for recycling into shoes for people without, a pretty worthy cause.

Before!

After! The Sunday noon group. Me, Chris Wiebe, Page Hoffman, Taylor Bodin and Londa Burns

At the end of the day, we all agreed it’s something we’d do again, despite the killer hills. In fact we are already making plans for next year’s event. This time, we are planning costumes, part of the event if you want it to be and we are really going to train in an effort to make the hills a bit easier, if that is possible.

The Shoes!

The event organizers didn’t disappoint. The Warrior Dash definitely was one of the “craziest frickin’ days of our lives.”

“It was so fun,” said Wilkens. “I thought it was going to be really hard, but it was just so much fun! This race is not about how fit you are but if you are a warrior,” she laughed. “We encouraged each other and had a lot of laughs.”

“I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a good time,” concluded Meghan Wiebe. 

We all definitely agree.

Skalbekken Park: A little piece of outdoor heaven, so close to home

Nature enthusiasts take note-- sparkling streams, wooded trails, rustic campsites, abundant wildlife, and the winding Minnesota River are just a few of the perks that await you at a little  prairie oasis known as Skalbekken Park. Just a short drive south, Skalbekken is a little piece of outdoor heaven that you won’t believe is so close to home.

The park, located about six miles southwest of Sacred Heart on County Road 10, is one of the seven parks in the Renville County Parks System, most of which are situated along the Minnesota River. Although considered “rustic” (aka no electricity), the park is dotted with clean shelters, restrooms, and fire rings with ample space to pitch a tent for the night. At the main entrance to the park there is a horse camp that sits adjacent to the Minnesota River. The river runs along the south side of the park with fishing spots aplenty along its banks. On the east side of the park, the Limbo Creek rushes through a lush river forest and to the west, the Hawk Creek.

Although only 18 miles from my driveway to the park entrance, I had never heard of Skalbekken until the fall of 2009 when the newly paired MACCRAY/RCW cross country team spent a few early season practices running through the park. My son was on the team and talked excitedly about what a neat place it was- adding that we should go there sometime. Well sometime finally came in September 2010 when I made my first visit to Skalbekken. Instantly I fell in love with the beauty and serenity of this little oasis on the prairie.

The first couple of trips to the park we stuck to the main road that runs parallel to the Minnesota, venturing off on a few trails but not too far. It wasn’t until last spring when the Minnesota had flooded the main entrance that we discovered what we love the best in Skalbekken- its incredible forest trails.

The first time we ventured off the beaten path we were completely amazed with the rugged terrain- a hiker’s and trailrunner’s dream, at least in our neck of the woods. Steep hills pepper the landscape leading down to Limbo Creek on the north and east sides of the park, our favorite place to hike.
Several trails cross the creek that eventually lead to a  breathtakingly beautiful area of prairie grass covered rolling hills and if you are lucky enough to be there at the right time of the evening, a perfect view of the setting sun. The trails then lead back into the forest and eventually bring you back to the creek. There are also trails that run parallel to the creek. After several trips to the park, we have yet to hike the exact some route twice.

Adding a bit of excitement to the sheer beauty of the trails is the abundant wildlife present in the park. A bald eagle high atop the trees, a wild turkey clucking a few feet off the trail, the flash of a white tail as a deer bounds through the forest, a hawk soaring overhead, and the loud slap of a beaver’s tail are just a few of the experiences garnered while hiking through the forests. Every trip promises something exciting and new.

Popular with horse riding aficionados the park features a horse camp that is large enough for several trailers and campers. Nearly every time we have hiked the trails we find fresh horse tracks and we have ventured upon riders more than once in the main part of the park. The horse trails also link up with the Upper Sioux State Park, just a short jaunt to the southwest of Skalbekken.

Skalbekken even has a little something for history buffs. A feature in the park is the Odean Skalbeck log house. The house was originally built in 1868 and was home to Odean Skalbeck, a former Renville County Commissioner. The house is situated down the main road across from the river and is complete with a historical marker that tells the story of the park and the log house.

For our family, this serene place has become a haven of sorts. We bring the dogs (who start to whine as soon as we head south), fill our water bottles, and hit the trails for a work out that we can’t get anywhere else near by. It’s funny because exercise doesn’t seem like exercise when there is so much beauty surrounding you. We always exit the forest trails with the amazing, soul-refreshing feeling that comes when spending time in the great outdoors. 
No matter what your outdoor fancy, you’ll find it at Skalbekken Park.  A little piece of outdoor heaven so close to home, Skalbekken is definitely worth putting on your summer “to-do” list.

The Warrior Dash!

Ahh, a cold malt beverage never tasted so good!

The Sunday noon warriors! Me, Chris, Page, Taylor and Londa!

“Slow and steady wins the race...” Well, it didn’t quite win me the race but it did get me across the finish line, alive, and earned me 18,956th place (out of nearly 19,500 finishers).

On Sunday, my boys and two of my friends competed in (or should I say completed) the Warrior Dash, the most physically and probably mentally challenging thing I have ever done in my 42 years (and that includes the three times I have given birth.)

The Warrior Dash is touted as “The ultimate event for thrill-seeking athletes. This 5k race is held on the most demanding and unique terrain from around the world. Participants will take on intense obstacles...”

The race is held at different locations around the country and world. Afton Alps Ski Resort in Hastings was the home of the 2011 Warrior Dash Minnesota, the first in the state.

We signed up back in January and watched as the time slots filled up. They were predicting 15,000 people to partake in the race over two days, up to 500 people per wave and the waves left every half hour. The 5k distance we all knew would be no problem (I can’t run that far at one time but can easily complete that distance walking and jogging) it was some of the obstacles that would be challenging. Boy, we had NO idea how challenging.

For starters, the course started off up hill. Not just a small hill, a ski hill, one that usually requires a chairlift to get up. 75% of the people walked the seemingly endless hill. Finally, reaching the top (or so I thought) I knew the obstacles would begin. I had studied the obstacles and knew that most of them would be more fun than anything so I wasn’t too worried. I had conquered “the hill,” the rest had to be downhill from here, right?

The first obstacle was called “Road Rage,” a series of junked cars and tires to run through. I crawled over them and went carefully through the tire mazes. No problem!

Shortly after that was the “Treacherous Typhoon.” No problem again I thought, I just had to run through water that was blasting at me. Shortly after entering the typhoon, I couldn’t see anything. Luckily everyone had left me in the dust so I knew I wouldn’t run into anyone. Suddenly I found myself gasping for air! Can’t see, can’t breath, water blasting at me, and I’m alone. I’d drown before the people I was ahead of (if you can believe it) got to me.

I survived only to find myself going downhill! Awesome! I can do this, then I glanced up to realize we were going downhill only to be heading back uphill. On my ascent, people coming down the other side assured me there was water at the top. “Thanks fellow warriors” I thought, and trudged up the hill. Ahh, water and level ground.

After that hill the course went through a series of up and downs before one of the most brutal obstacles (for me) stared me in the face- a series of nearly five foot walls alternated with wood and barbed wire walls that were to be crawled under. I hoisted  myself (and probably let out a primal grunt) onto wall one... Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty but I completed the series.

A cargo net crawl, a scramble through a scorching-hot, dark tent, and a 15’ cargo net climb followed. I steadily completed all of them while slowly navigating the steep hills. I was two-thirds of the way through the race before the leaders of the next wave caught me. The end was near. Then came the wall...

“The Warrior Wall,” a 12’ high wall with a rope to climb it- a rope and one inch foot holds every few feet. The only way over was to climb the rope.

Me! Leaping over fire!

I stopped and stared at the wall. There was NO way I could climb it, but I was NOT going to walk around it so I grabbed on and pulled with every fiber of my being. I think every muscle in my shoulders exploded. They had to wonder what the heck was going on. All I know is that it was one of the best feelings that I have ever had in my life when I heaved my wide load over the top of that wall...

The rest of the course we ran through mud, up one more hill before the final obstacles, the fun ones. We slid down a ginormous slip-n-slide, leaped over fire, and crawled through a very large mud pit under barbed wire. After that it was just a few feet to the finish line. I finished in 1:14.11, 8,752nd for the day.

For our efforts we got a tee-shirt, warrior helmet, medal, and a free beer. Definitely worth it.

Today, I am badly sunburned, have bruises appearing randomly, and am just a little sore but not what I expected. Maybe it’s because ibuprofen has become my new best friend?

I highly recommend this race for anybody that is looking for a challenge or just something different to do. It was a family day for us as my parents, brother, and son’s girlfriend were there to cheer us all on. They even took the chairlift to the top to catch some action up there.

Besides the race there were bands playing, turkey legs being eaten, and fun all-around.

Although the race was not hosted by a charity, the event company “hired” charity groups to staff the event and they also collected the muddy tennis shoes, if you wanted to leave yours, to recycle them into new shoes for persons around the world who don’t have shoes. A pretty good cause in my book.

Afterwards, we all agreed that we couldn’t wait until next year but this time we were going to find some super costumes (part of the race-fun if you want to dress up) and we were really going to train.

Call me a warrior! A tired, sunburned, sore- warrior!

P.S. The VERY best part of the day was coming down the final hill and hearing my family and friends cheering wildly for me! I love you all!

An 'A' for effort?

I apologize to any of my neighbors who may have nearly fainted at the sight of me behind the lawnmower Saturday afternoon. It’s a sight you’ve probably never witnessed before and probably won’t again any time soon.

I was just trying to be nice to the hub who plans his weeks around his mowing- literally. Saturday was “the day” but he got called to help a buddy shingle at the last minute. I thought, I’ll mow this one time, just to be nice.

Not that I’m fundamentally opposed to mowing, I’d do it regularly if my life depended on it, but thanks to the hub, it doesn’t.  It doesn’t because the hub “banned” me from mowing nearly two decades ago. That’s right B-A-N-N-E-D.

At the time we were living on the farm and I was brand-spanking new to farm life and to the lawn mowing scene, especially a riding lawn mower. Our yard had a very low spot that was in the shape of a circle, so I did the only logical thing to do- I mowed in a circle. Apparently in my hub’s book of mowing regulations, mowing in a circle is a  “mowing violation” and I had just offended in a big way. The hub was not pleased with my mowing strategy and in a rather harsh tone, banned me from the mowing. After all, what would people think?

“Seriously? Did you just ban me from mowing?” I said laughing hysterically. “Maybe if you would have informed me of the “mowing regulations” I would have never violated the rules in such a drastic way.” The hub didn’t find this quite as amusing as I did. Gosh, my mowing days were done before they even got started- sniff, sniff.

We eventually moved to town and I have actually “gotten” to mow a couple of times- but only when the situation was absolutely desperate. He never forgot the mowing violation from years prior choosing to hire youngsters to mow when he couldn’t fit it in. Our own kids even got “the chance” to mow occasionally. It’s probably been a decade since I last cut the grass.

So, I planned my mowing strategy, started the mower and began. Boy would the hub be surprised...

Things were progressing rather nicely until I shut the mower off to move the fire pit rocks. That’s when the mower decided not to start again. Really? Oops!

I tried everything I could think of (which wasn’t enough) before I broke down and called the hub. “Hey, guess what?” I said. “I was mowing...” 

In a rather surprised and concerned tone he said, “What, you were mowing? Mowing?” (As if he didn’t hear me the first time.)

To make a long story short, the mower is now residing in the repair shop. Thanks to our neighbors who let the hub borrow their mower to finish the lawn.

Although he appreciated the effort, we reminisced about our discussion from so long ago...

“There is a reason you don’t mow,” he said. There sure is honey, there sure is!

Will it ever end?

As I write this, the wind is howling, the rain is bordering on turning to snow, and it’s just plain miserable outside. The forecast for the next week or so doesn’t look a whole lot different than the one for today. A day here and there of warmer temps and glimpses of sunshine. Will it ever end?

I remember penning a cheery column back in February regarding the soon to be ending winter. Boy was I wrong.

I had actually packed my winter stuff away a few weeks ago as I was sure I wouldn’t need it. Boy, was I wrong again.  At last week's ball games I sported my wool hat, mittens, and winter coat.

As I was about to start whining this morning when I looked outside I heard yet another report regarding the southern part of our country. Several states have been plagued by tornadoes and severe storms. Many people have died in these storms and the damage has tremendous.

I guess my winter coat doesn’t seem so bad in light of  what could be.

Say a prayer for the people in the states south of us and don’t forget to bundle up.

Year 42...

By the time you read this I will officially be a day into year 42 of my life. I honestly can’t believe I’m this old.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think people in their 40’s are old- it’s just that I never actually I imagined myself as a 40 something. In my head there are many days I’m still 18. Luckily though, I no longer act like it.

Every year I go through a mini depression around the time of my birthday. I beat myself up over the things that I haven’t accomplished yet. Things I thought for sure I would have by now.

This year though, I only let myself have only one day of mental torture before I decided to look at all of the things, by the grace of God, that I had accomplished in my life, choosing to look at the blessings in my life and not my failures.

I have been blessed with incredible kids, family, and friends. I have two really cool jobs that I am extremely thank ful for. I have a home and a car to drive.

I may not be at my “ideal” weight or in the financial position I thought I would be at 42 and I have some educational goals left to attain but I am learning to be okay with the fact that these aren’t failures but only things I have yet to accomplish. And you know what? I have vowed to keep plugging away at achieving what I have set out to. I’m carrying that positive attitude forward into year 42 and I’m feeling like it’s going to be a good one.

I guess anytime you can say that you have celebrated another year of life (considering the alternative) it has to be good right?

Great tuna casserole recipe!

QUICK AND EASY TUNA FISH CASSEROLE

Read more about it at www.cooks.com/rec/view/0,178,133179-255192,00.html Content Copyright © 2011 Cooks.com - All rights reserved. 1 or 2 cans tuna 1 tsp garlic salt to taste just a shake of salt just a shake of pepper a little over 1/2 cup of Italian bread crumbs 3/4 cup Ranch dressing 1/2 bag of egg noodles Boil egg noodles until done; drain.Drain water from tuna and place in a bowl. Add remaining ingredients. Be sure mixture has a creamy enoughconsistency, and taste to see if enough garlic salt has been added. If mixture is too creamy, add more bread crumbs, and vice-versa (Ranch Dressing). Stir in cooked egg noodles and serve immediately or place a couple slices of cheese (of your choice) on top and bake in the oven JUST for a couple minutes until the cheese melts. Overcooking will make tuna dry. Enjoy! Submitted by: Jennifer Smith

Life moves pretty fast...

Ferris Bueller said it best, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Those of you with kids know exactly what he’s talking about. Life moves pretty fast.

There comes a point in many families where everyday life becomes a blur of ortho appointments, piano lessons, sports practices, homework, games, meetings- the works. It seems like one minute your kids are running around at your feet, the next you’re just plain running them around. Just when you think you may have time to breathe, somebody else needs a ride, has a game, needs help with their homework, has a piano lesson, gets sick, has dance practice... life can be downright exhausting. Some days you just need to take time to breathe, you need to stop and look around before you miss it, but if you do that, you’ll be undoubtedly be late picking somebody up from somewhere.

There were times when my kids were at their busiest that I would have given my right arm for one minute, just one, to not be on the road to somewhere. One minute, just one, to breathe. One minute to stop and look around before I missed it. Life moves pretty fast.

Oddly enough though, I began to love life on the road. I began to secretly cherish the time in the car with my kids. For a few minutes of every day we got to be together before they were off to their next event. Better yet were the times we trekked to the cities or someplace farther away then one of the MACCRAY schools-- we always had the best road trips. Those rides in the car became my time to breathe.

Then suddenly, it seems, the kids were off to college. Life really does move fast. Wasn’t it just yesterday they were telling me how they didn’t want to leave home to go to college so they probably weren’t going to go, unless of course I could drive them there? I remember telling them that by the time they were old enough to go to college, they would actually want to be leaving the house. They looked at me like I was a crazy lady.

The hub and I have been pretty fortunate so far as the kid’s college choices have been in close proximity to our home, two at Ridgewater and one at Northwestern, only a few hours away. Life is still moves pretty fast as the two youngest are active in collegiate sports but we have always felt blessed that we can travel to watch them most of the time. We get to see our kids quite often and absolutely love the rare times that the whole family is at home (I completely understand now why my parents don’t care when we invite ourselves over for dinner) yet we still have a bit of time to ourselves. Empty nesthood for us has quite frankly been a breeze, that is until a couple of weeks ago when the biggest road trip of our lives changed everything.

Our daughter, who has attended Ridgewater for the past two years, got an offer from a college in New Jersey. After several hours of research on the college and even more conversing with one of her soon-to-be coaches and a few future teammates, she made up her mind that she was going to transfer next fall, she just needed to visit the college and see the area to be absolutely sure.

So, the youngest, the daughter, and I took off for Bloomfield, New Jersey, a 2,600 mile road-trip in all. We left on a Thursday morning and were back by Sunday night. Four straight days with two of my kids was a dream come true. We had the time of our lives during those four days cruising across the country, checking out the college, and spending a whirlwind day in New York City, which is only about 15 minutes from Bloomfield. 

We all fell absolutely in love with the area, the college, and the Big Apple. My daughter was bursting with excitement when she made the official commitment to attend college there next year. I was bursting with excitement for her! Life moves pretty fast... I suddenly really needed to take time to breathe.

 The reality that my little girl won’t be a few short minutes away anymore began to sink in this week.  It’s such a weird combination of emotions to be so incredibly happy and excited knowing that your child is going where they are meant to be and at the same time to be so absolutely terrified of not being able to spend time with them every week. I know I really need to put my big girl undies on to get through this-- she is doing everything I always hoped and dreamed that she would do. Besides, we expect nothing less of her than to take the opportunities given to her. We expect nothing less of her than to follow her dreams. We can’t wait to see where life takes her.


“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Thanks Ferris for your words of wisdom. Those of you with kids know exactly what he’s talking about...