Just like Rascal Flatts

"I'm gonna stand on a rooftop, climb up a mountaintop Baby, scream and shout I wanna sing it on the radio, show it on a video Baby, leave no doubt" - Rascal Flatts Image by © Larry Williams/Corbis

Something shout worthy occurred in my life late last week. So shout worthy that I began by whispering. Because it was too shockingly shout worthy. Shocking in a good long-time-coming-dreams-come-true way.

I started small. Texts were texted. Calls were speed dialed. Excited chatter on the air waves. I e-mailed some e-mails. To share my news. News that life has taken a turn and things are looking sunny-side-up. I notified many friends and family of my news. And I also didn’t notify as many as I should have – partly because I’m not one to go about shouting out my own news.

But there were some people I wanted to call and e-mail. A select few who I knew would be warmly receptive and congratulatory of my news. Their names and kind faces, laughing smiles and heart-warming eyes, flashed across my mind. I longed to tell them of my newest life path. They would want to know that my wishes came true – that their wish for me came true. They should have been called first.

Silly me.

I forgot to call them. I forgot to include them in the e-mail list.

Silly me.

There was no way I could have called them or included them in the e-mail list. Because they are no longer here and now. They were part of me for many years. Good years. Long years. Short years. Past years. Their footprint on my heart was big. And they would be proud to know that I try to follow in those footprints quite regularly. I miss their words of encouragement and heart-felt prayers. I miss them because they are no longer here to hear me shout out my news.

And you don’t realize how much you miss someone until you can’t share your shout worthy news with them.

* The select few – both sets of grandparents (one grandparent too confused with life to call with my news) and a former professor/adviser/mentor who put up a good fight with cancer that ended this past spring. All were wonderful people in my life and all are greatly missed.


I ask. You answer.

  1. Have you ever wanted to shout your news out to someone that was no longer there to hear it?
  2. Is that when you miss them the most?

Home-made to last a lifetime

A simple ironing board. A typical iron. Together they accomplish tasks every household requires. And years ago, at the very back of my Christmas memories, I remember when the iron and the board came together to create a one-of-a-kind gift.

I remember I was a little squirt. Not very tall. Pony-tailed and bouncy. My parents and I (I don’t think my sister was around yet…) headed up north to visit my aunt and uncle and cousins in their hockey-loving town. And my older cousin, who always had the coolest outfits, told me I could make a gift for my mom. For a kid without any money (funny how that never changes), I thought it was a brilliant idea. With her ironing expertise, my cousin helped me create an iron-on masterpiece for my mom. I was jump-up-and-down-giggle-happy to make something so special. And it was all the more special because my cousin made it with me.

That was eons ago. At least 22 Christmases ago. But my mom still has it – that iron-on kiddie craft. And every year we pull it out, I ask if she remembers that I made it for her with my cousin. Of course she remembers. I won’t let her forget. I don’t think she ever could forget. Because those are the gifts you give and receive that your heart won’t let you forget.

Those are the home-made gifts that last a lifetime.


I ask. You answer.

  1. What’s your favorite home-made Christmas gift that you gave?
  2. What’s your favorite home-made Christmas gift that you received?