The Dash In Between

     I'm reading a book called "Reflections of a Grieving Spouse" by Norman Wright.  It's been very helpful, although, I've already heard a lot of what he has to say.  But today he said something that I know I've heard before, but it just hit me different.

    He was saying that on a grave stone, there's often the person's birth date and then the date of their death. He said really neither of them are important, what's important is the dash in between.  For the little insignificant dash is how they lived their life, and what had true meaning, it's what their life was all about.  

    His question for journaling at the end of that chapter was "How did your spouse impact others lives? and also "What scripture did your spouse reflect in his life?"

   I'd have to say that the answer to both of them is tied together.  Todd did influence a lot of people, mostly by just loving them.  "The love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost." Rom. 5:5.  He never was a great orator, but taught the Word of God well, but he lived it even more.  Todd was always a little bit uncomfortable in front of people, but he loved being one on one with people though, and that's where he shined!  Especially if it was someone he had never met before, he'd zero in on them, and start finding out all about them, and would start to share about Jesus to them. That was Todd.

    He always had a scripture card in his pocket, and was memorizing and meditating on the Word of God.  I have a whole box of them, each one worn, so I know it was used well.  The last 6 years or so, he reverted to using the back of cereal boxes instead of index cards, cause he felt they were a little more sturdy.  

   This past weekend Philip was home, and he pulled out of his pocket, a piece of a cereal box, with a scripture written on the back.  He said he wanted to carry on Todd's torch of hiding God's Word in his heart.  Made me smile ever so much.  

     What does your dash look like? What does my dash look like?  You and I don't have that end date yet, but we're working on the dash in between part.  Let's make that dash have great value and eternal purpose.

     I remember years ago, a man came to visit us while we lived in Steele.  The man had done many things in his life, and was pretty much a work-a-holic.  But when we visited with him, he had just suffered a major heart attack, and it was a miracle that he was alive.  I remember him telling Todd, pay attention to the things that are really important in life.  Your wife, your kids when you have them (this was several years before we had kids), for those things are what really matter.  The job will be gone someday, but they'll still be here, make sure you don't neglect the important things for the urgent.  He then went on to tell us how he had wasted so many years, and how he wished he could have them back.    

     You don't get those days back unfortunately, and we only get to live this life once, so live it well. Make your dash in between be a good one.

A Symphony of Love

  Being a musician and lover of music since a very young child, I so appreciate good music in most any style being preformed.  A week or so ago, I went with Kristi to hear her play in the Woodwind Festival at U of Mary.  She played in one of the flute choirs from Century High.  Her group performed well, and received a star rating, so very proud of them.  There was one things I observed over and over as each group got up and performed, how very difficult it is for flutes to be in tune with each other, especially at this young age, as the kids are just learning to 'hear' the pitch correctly.  Kristi's group did pretty good in that department, but there was a few groups that played, I was cringing the whole time.  They had the right notes but were so out of tune it was making my skin crawl.  There's nothing harder to keep in tune than a flute except maybe an oboe.    

(Picture of CHS flute Choir at Woodwind Festival at the U of Mary. Kristi is the one with the blue shirt showing around her waist.  She missed the memo about wearing all black. Oops)

   

  I got to thinking about that this morning, and saw it in a deeper meaning.  Isn't that how life is?  Isn't that how families operate?  Isn't that how the church works?

   Sometimes, we're all playing the right notes, but someone is out of tune.  Just not quite there, and it makes the whole group sound bad.  

     In the natural, here's an example in a family unit: A mom gets sick with the flu, and suddenly the house is falling apart, the meals are getting kind of sketchy, the laundry is piling up (ok, I know I'm stereo typing here to make a point.)  

  

     Here's another thought though, what about a band or orchestra who is playing together under the direction of a conductor, but suddenly the piccolo player (I'm picking on flutes and piccolos cause that's what I play) suddenly decides she doesn't want to play that soft melodic piece they're practicing together, and she wants to play the solo from the John Philip Souza's Stars and Stripes Forever (which by the way, is really a fun solo to play).  She may be playing all the notes right in perfect tune, but it's not the right piece to be playing, she's just wanting attention and everyone to be focusing on her.  You've seen it haven't you.  In a family: when someone in the family group gets so self centered, and thinks the world revolves around him or herself.  Feels everyone should bow to them, and do what they want, when they want it, and how they want it.  That person maybe two or forty two, but it still sounds awful.  We can kind of expect it and forgive it when it's a two year old, but in an adult, it's ugly and disgusting, and people are rolling their eyes in disgust, but the person doing it, can't seem to see what the problem is and continually blames others for his or her behavior.  (The victim) 

     How about a church situation,  when some member gets disgruntled about something, usually petty, and wants to make life miserable for everyone else.  They complain and cause strife where ever they go, trying to tear apart the body of Christ.  We've all seen it happen over and over.

    When talking to Kristi this morning about this very subject, she brought up another scenario.  Last year, when she was taking band at Mandan High School, at one of their concerts, they did a combined song with all three concert bands.  Because of the large group, and how they had to set it up on the stage, they used both conductors.  The piece they were playing was "Pirates of the Caribbean" and the conductors had a little fun with it, and came out dressed like pirates, and conducted with plastic swords.  The point Kristi brought out was, that Mr Boehm and to keep his eye on Mr Bauman all the time, to make sure every down beat was together.  She brought out how Jesus, is the main conductor leading the whole thing, but he put pastors out there to lead the band, and they must keep their eyes on Jesus so they get the down beats together.  Of course the band members all need to keep their eyes on the director to come in at the right time.  When it's done correctly it was beautiful music. 

      I could go on and on with illustrations of music and life, but there's a story I want to share from yesterday.  Yesterday, I heard a symphony so beautiful from the hearts of friends and family in South Dakota, I was brought to tears.  Yes, there was the great conductor Jesus leading it all, saying over and over, "I love you Kelley."  But he used other conductors and players to play the tune.  He used MaryJo Truax, to come up with the tune.  The name; A Benefit Meal and Auction for Todd Reuer's Family.  She recruited players of all kinds to play this wonderful piece.  There was Jim Hauck who cooked his awesome meal, and all the players that supported his section, with preparation, and serving and clean up.  There were all those that came and donated money so they could eat the awesome food.  All those player working behind the  scene, making this symphony sound beautiful, that I didn't even see them all at work.

 One of the donated pictures that was auctioned off, on display at the church.

Sweet MaryJo, who God used to organize the event.  Love you girlfriend!!

      There was the second movement of the piece that involved Todd Ulmer auctioning off items that so many people had donated. I have to say, those were the most expensive pies I've ever seen, and I hope they tasted as good as every penny you paid for!  Oh, I won't forget those 10 expensive pairs of gloves!  Somehow I wish I could have wrote on the back of each of those gloves, "When I wear these, it means I showed love to Kelley and her family, and almost won a great gun!"  

 Todd Ulmer auctioning off a pair of gloves.  If you wanted a chance at the rifle, you had to win a bid on a pair of gloves. Those were some expensive gloves!!

 Brady Bickel modeling this very cool hand bag for the auction. Nice!

Traci winning the final bid on a canvas print of Todd's Ropes.  

      Each one came, each one shared, each one gave. There was no one shouting, "Look at me, I want all the attention here."  Each one giving so generously.  I was humbled, I was touched beyond words, all I could do was weep.  Some of them had known Todd much longer than me, having grown up with him.  Some didn't even know Todd or I, but still came to support and have a great meal.  All I can say was it was the most beautiful piece of music I've ever heard, and not a actual musical note was played.  It was the song of love.  It was a song of support.  It was a song to some that said, "You and Todd gave to us, now we want to give back to you, we love you and so does Jesus."  

    But I have to confess something.  It was a song I was terrified to go and hear.  It started really hitting me the night before. I was so scared.  It's hard to explain, but I've always liked being on the other end of things, the giving end.  I've loved being the one planning and giving to someone else.  The Bible truly is correct in saying "It's more blessed to give than receive."  I never can understand people that don't like to give, they just don't know what they're missing out on.  Maybe a lot of you don't view me as a giving person, cause Todd and I didn't do a lot of our giving (financially) with loud trumpet sounds for everyone to hear.   It was the more like finding a need, and meeting it, and not letting anyone else know about it.   I can't tell you how much fun we had, finding out about something, secretly taking care of it, and then hearing the person tell us about a miracle that just happened.  We'd just smile and rejoice with them never letting them know we played a part.  That's giving at its finest, and I don't plan to change the pattern Todd and I always lived in that area.  Of course there was times we couldn't figure out how to keep it secret, but just gave anyway.

       But this time, I had to switch rolls and be the end of the receiver, that's always been an uncomfortable role for me.  Maybe cause it's having to face the message that it brought, that God truly loves me, and cares about me.  I know that in theory, but sometimes the reality gets garbled in my mind.  That was a fact that Todd always had so clear.  He told me his first verse he learned as a little child was "I love Him, because He first loved me."  Todd not only had that verse memorized but it was reality, a revelation of truth in his life that radiated his every being.  He spent 32 years showing me what that means, and yesterday a whole group of people carried on Todd's love.

     I guess I said all these words just to say THANK YOU!!! from the bottom of my humbled weeping heart to everyone that came, that gave, that did anything to help, to show me and the kids what love is in action. Thank You for that beautiful symphony of love.   Like Tyson told me, when I struggled about the whole thing, "Mom, just let them do it, it's not about the money, it's they just want to show you that they love you and they support you."  You all did that in a BIG way, and I  can't say thank you enough.  I love you all!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  

 People enjoying the wonderful meal by Jim Hauck.

 Kitchen crew. Jim is the center putting sandwiches together.  Larry Thompson, Lenette Thompson, Jim Schlekeway, I can't tell who the other man is with his back to the camera.

 Long time good friends: Lori Brockel and Jackie Dale, oh yah me in the middle.

 Auctioning off "Slave Labor" These young men and young lady will "serve time" for the lucky winner of the bid.

 My Home School friend Denette Vander Vorst made this beautiful "Quilled" picture. (Bill Bickel is holding up) somebody went home with this wonderful work of art!!

 The "Homeschool foursome."   Kristi's best buds growing up in Mobridge. Elissa S, Jaden B, Tanner D, and Kristi

The mom's of the Homeschool Foursome!  Brave women! Lori B, Kelley (me), Becky S, Jackie D. (These three women (and several others not pictured) have been with me through thick and thin the last 20+ years.  Friends with major history, and still love me. There's not many that know my heart like these three. Love you all!!) 

Love Defined

 

   

   Back in 1982 when Todd and I got married, no one had a camcorder, or a iPhone, I think maybe my brother-in-law had a 8mm camera, but he forgot it in Rapid City.  So our only recording of our wedding was a small tape recorder placed in the choir loft of the church.  We had somewhat of a tradition through the years, that on our anniversary we would listen to the tape, to remind each other of our vows to each other. We didn't make it every year, sometimes we couldn't find the tape.  A few years ago, my sister Debbie, took the tape and burned it onto a CD for us.  Now it's taped, in a CD sleeve,  inside our wedding photo album.   The last few years we couldn't listen to it cause all our belongings were packed away in boxes in my parents garage.  I had plans of taking the CD up to Tioga on our Anniversary and playing it, reminding Todd that I still meant every word of it, and still loved him as much, and actually more than on that first day or our lives together. I never got to do that though, cause, on our anniversary this year, I laid Todd's body to rest in the ground, and said good bye, to my pard, my best friend, my lover, my husband. 

    In lou of Valentine's Day, I pulled the CD out this morning to listen to it, this time alone without Todd. I cried, I laughed.  Yes, laughed, at the sounds of chuckles from the congregation knowing what they were all laughing at.  Some of the wedding party (I won't name names) had taken Todd's shoes and put "H-E" on his left shoe and "L-P" on his right, so when we knelt down to pray at the end... you get now why everyone was laughing. We had to explain to the minister later, as he was a little perplexed as to why everyone was laughing at his prayer.  I laughed at my cracking voice at the end of the song Todd and I sang to each other.  I smiled remembering the terror on Todd's face, when we got to the last verse, and I whispered, "Let's turn and face the people."  This was the first time that Todd had song solo (actually duet) in public.  He did great, he had such a wonderful singing voice.  

    I cried hearing the original music sung by Andrew Nelson and another original song by Tom Porter.  All the beautiful music.  One of the benefits of growing up with wonderful musicians, they play and write music for your wedding. (The original song by Andrew was not written for our wedding, but for someone else's, but I loved it, and asked him to sing it at our wedding too.)   

    A wedding in all it's beauty is just one day event into a life time together.  Many people people spend tens of thousands of dollars on that day, but fail to prepare and cultivate the rest of their lives together.  Todd and I were determined to keep our wedding expenses down, and put more into our lives. (I think our wedding in total cost under $1000.  Most of that being the cake and pictures.  I'm sure my Dad would know the exact figure.)  But our lives together, was priceless.

   Our theme scripture from our wedding was; "... the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." (Romans 5:5b NKJV)   It remained a theme throughout our lives together.  There were times when we had to 'stand' on that scripture more than others.  We're human.  We make mistakes.  We fail.  We forgive. We love.  We hold on when all hope seems gone.  

    Another scripture we had at our wedding was from Ecclesiastes: 

"Two are better than one, Because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls, For he has no one to help him up. Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm; But how can one be warm alone? Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him. And a threefold cord is not quickly broken." (Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 NKJV)

    Todd and I would often quote the part of the verse, of two together being warm when they lie down, in our often freezing cold drafty houses we lived in.  I seem to have the coldest feet, and would love to place them up against his warm legs, to warm them up.  He always said I was freeze branding him (you got to be a rancher to understand that one).    But it was more than just keep each other's feet warm, we were always there for each other holding each other up.  I've never met anyone, who I could pray with like Todd.  I've been shocked through the years, that many Christian couples don't pray together.  For us it was common place.  Actually how we spent a lot of our time together when we were dating too.  I guess we saw it if you can't pray together, you're not going to stay together.  

    In a sympathy card from the man that was our best man at our wedding he said, "I have many great memories of Todd and our journey in life together, of course you are in most because it seems you two were together for all of our time together."  We were a team, working together.   Though Todd and I were worlds apart in personalities, we were a perfect match in the spirit.   We were 'pards' for life.  

   Yes, I know I use that word 'pards' a lot when talking about Todd and I, but it's for good reason.  When we first started spending time together back in Bible College, we were driving somewhere in his pickup.  Todd asked me if I'd be his "pard."  I guess that's how cowboys ask the girl to be their steady.  I guess you know I said yes.

    I always thought to really be in love, it has to have all those mushy "Hallmark" type situations, you know, when the guy gets the girl at the end, and it starts snowing.  Yes, snow, it always snows at the end of Hallmark movies, I guess they think that's romantic, I'm sure they only think that cause they never lived in North Dakota.  I never had those mushy, head over heels, I think it's gonna start snowing any moment type moments in our life.  Love was more of a commitment, one you stuck to, no matter what happened.  Even when life got ugly, and not the way you planned.  Even when you're both driving each other crazy, you don't quit.  We use to joke that our marriage was made in heaven, but so is thunder and lightening.    Yah, life wasn't always a bowl of cherries, we had lots of pits to deal with.  With every pit, we went to The Lord and dealt with it.  We stayed together, till death split us apart.

    Love was still there, even when I had to make those awful decisions that I knew would come someday, but came way too soon.  Even when certain people criticized me for my decisions to put Todd in a nursing home, I knew it hadn't changed how I loved him.  I loved him even more.  Loving him, even when he couldn't love me back.  I told my son Tyson once, that my loyalty to Todd goes deeper than my love, but the truth is, my loyalty really was my love.   Yes, sometimes love does really hard things, sometimes love takes you through really hard places, sometimes love is all you have left.  It takes me back to our wedding scripture theme, but I really want to back up a couple of verses and put it in context.

    "...through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." (Romans 5:2-5 NKJV)

     That love of God that's poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, is what brings you through those times of tribulation that produces perseverance and character and hope.  It may not be 'snowing' like in a Hallmark movie, but love can still be flowing.

     The other day, I found a card in my dresser that Todd had given me. I'm not sure if it had been for a Christmas, our Anniversary or my birthday, they were all so close, but it said this: "With all we've shared the laughing and loving and living- you'd think I'd have discovered all the reasons I have to love you...But I keep finding new ones all the time."    He signed it "I do love you very much!" Todd

     That's what love is.  

  Happy Valentines Day

A Rodeo without you

Tucker nailing it! This young man is an incredible roper!

   Last Saturday morning, Kristi and I went to the Slack Rodeo at the Civic Center to watch our friend, Tucker Dale, team rope, and we also got to see Shanna Anderson barrel race. Fun to see ole' friends from Timber Lake, SD compete.

   As we walked into the arena, I first was accosted by that old familiar smell of horse manure and wood chips.  My comment was "Wow, haven't smelled that in a while," to which Kristi replied, "Yah, doesn't that smell good."  I replied, "I'm not sure I call it good, but it is familiar."

    As we went to find a seat while waiting for Bill and Jackie (Tucker's parents), I was overcome by all the old familiar sights and sounds.  Seeing all those cowboy hats, and knowing my Cowboy's hat lays empty on the saddle horn on the rack in our bedroom. (Part of my western decor, I have Tyson's beautiful saddle on a rack in my western bedroom. Since Todd died, I have his hat and chinks hanging over the saddle.)   I didn't realize that just going to a rodeo would effect me so.  It was just another shocking reminder that Todd is gone from my present life.  None of those cowboy hats had his big smiling face under it.  

  The saddle rack in the corner of my bedroom.  I made the hanging quilt on the wall for Todd for his 50th birthday a few years ago.  It's called the "Great American Cowboy". Thought it was so fitting of a description of Todd.

       It just seemed odd that this use to be our way of life.  I can't count the number of rodeoes where I sat watching the kids, and way back when, Todd, ride in the arena, always hoping for that winning buckle, or at least an improved time.  Now it's just memories, a life in the past, gone from my life forever. Not that I'll never go to another rodeo, I told Jackie that when Tucker makes the NFR, I'm going to go watch. :-)  Being there was more of a reminder  of my life that I lost.  Although that way of life was not familiar ground for me before Todd, it became common place after I met him.  To be truthful, before I met Todd, I had only attended one rodeo when I was in High School.  We had a foreign exchange student living with us from Japan, and she wanted to see a rodeo, so my mom had me take her. I had no idea what was going on, little did I know that in a few years, I'd be hauling horses around and attending numerous rodeos and horse shows every summer.

    I remember when we sold our horse trailer with the living quarters a few years ago, I stood in the yard out in Kintyre, and just cried watching it being hauled out of the yard.  Todd stood there looking at me rather bewildered.  It was more to me than just selling an old beat up trailer, a Circle J 1989 steel trailer, what a beast to haul, it was I was loosing more of Todd, more of our life was gone.  We had to sell, cause he could no longer, do those things that had always been so natural to him.   When we sold our last horse in December of  2012,  I bawled like a baby standing there freezing in my parents yard, watching Dude leave in someone elses trailer.  Knowing that part of our lives was over. Todd and I had always had at least one horse, even before the kids started rodeoing. It was just part of Todd.

     Now Todd no longer knew even how to saddle a horse.    It was more than just selling our last horse, again, I was loosing Todd.  The man who knew more about horses than anyone else in my life,  no longer could care for them, and it wasn't right for my 80+ year old father to be out there feeding them either, and I didn't have a clue as to how to take care of them.  The horses had always been Todd's and the kids thing.  I've personally never cared much for horses, don't get me wrong, I think they're beautiful, but I really don't like to be around them.  I'm not a good rider, and don't enjoy it.  I do like to take pictures of them though. :-)

    Earlier that fall (2012), Todd was down in my dad's corral "saddling up" a horse.  I went down to see him, and saw that  the saddle had no cinch on it.  Todd didn't even realize that.  When I said, "Todd, you can't ride without a cinch, where's the cinch?"  He just stared at me, and then turned and pulled the saddle off the horse.  He never tried to ride again, and we never found the cinch either.  He had taken apart several of our saddles.  Stirups were missing, cinches gone, latigos no where to be found.  Kristi spent a lot of time down in Grandpa's shop (where the saddles were stored) trying to piece everything back together.  But some things we never found again.  Todd would hide things.  Sometimes we never found them again, and of course he couldn't remember where he hid it.  This was the part of Todd's illness no one saw but us.  It wasn't just horse tack, it was my dad's tools, sometimes clothes, things from my parents kitchen or garage (this was while we were living with my parents).  Things would just be missing, sometimes we find them in the strangest places.  One morning I got up to find my Mom's winter coat and gloves in our bedroom, underneath a pillow on the lazyboy chair.  I don't know if he had tired to wear them in the middle of the night, I'll never know, the gloves were also wet.  When we were moving our belonging out of my parents garage to our new home, I found my cowboy boots  that Todd had bought me on our honey moon, shoved behind a bed my Dad had stored in his garage. They had been in a box of keepsake items, why he singled them out I don't know. There never was any logic to these things.  Just another awful symptom of the wretched condition of dementia.  

    I wasn't just loosing our horses and that way of life, I was loosing him.  

    This morning I read this scripture that was a great comfort:

"You have allowed me to suffer much hardship, but you will restore me to life again and lift me up from the depths of the earth. You will restore me to even greater honor and comfort me once again. Then I will praise you with music on the harp, because you are faithful to your promises, O my God. I will sing praises to you with a lyre, O Holy One of Israel." (Psalms 71:20-22 NLT)

      Even through I've been through a great loss, I can be assured that God is the God of all comfort and he will lift me up, and I will and do praise him with music on my guitar, sorry I don't know how to play a harp or lyre.  I also know He is faithful to his promises. God can not fail.   

       Maybe even someday, I'll be able to attend a rodeo without that sad feeling of loss, and just go and enjoy it, but like any sporting event, if I don't know someone who's competing, it's not any fun to watch.  Right now it just feels empty to watch a rodeo without my cowboy beside me.   

Just a standard question and Willmar remodeling

   Been helping Tyson in Willmar on his house, as they're wanting to get it ready to sell and make it more marketable. Lots of demolition was going on in the last few days.  He tore out all the paneling in the living room, and gutted the bathroom down to the 2x4's.  I've been just putzing. Maybe not a whole lot of help, but doing little things that are tedious, like running errands, sanding, sweeping up the demo mess, pulling nails left from the paneling.  Pulling nails was a huge job, I can't believe how many nails can be used to hang paneling.  There was one nail in particular, I felt more than others, the one I pulled out of my foot  on Monday night,  as we were mudding holes created by the nails in the panelling, when I went for some more mud, and stepped on a nail that was pointing upwards in the upside down piece of paneling laying on the floor.  I let out a yell, but it really wasn't bad.  Pulled off my shoe, and it was only bleeding a little bit, hardly enough to make a blood stain on my sock, but then again, my sock was so thin and old, I don't think it would hold the blood.  Tyson insisted I ask Laure, whom I'm staying with, for some kind of antiseptic and clean it out when I got to their home.  Which I did, no biggie.  

    On Tuesday night I was talking with my sister-in-law, Georgia, who's a nurse, and she strongly suggested I go and get a tetanus shot, since that last one I had was in 1989 right before I went overseas.  

   So this morning I asked Jack (Laure's husband) where I should go, if there was a walk in clinic any where, where I could just get a tetanus shot, I didn't need to see a doctor. He told me where to go, and I went to their Urgent Care Clinic, and waited in line for paper work.  I had to go into the business office to sign in as a new patient.  She was going through the standard questions, of address, phone number, etc, and then she got to the question that stopped me. "Are you married?" I just stared at her, and paused for a few seconds and then said, "I guess I have to say I'm a widow."  She went on like it was no big deal, for me, I almost started crying.  I haven't had to use that word yet, and oh how I hate it.  It's just another of all those firsts I've been having to go through.

 The first time, having to jump my car by myself. Hey, don't laugh, I've seen it done a thousand times, but never have had to do it, that I can remember.

  The first time staying in a hotel all by myself.

  The first time having to eat by myself in a restaurant.

  The first time sitting in a service and the preacher starts preaching on marriage, and suddenly you realize, that no matter how good it is, I can't apply it to my life.

   The first time…

I think you get what I'm talking about. My world turned upside down, and I have to adjust and go on.  I'm not the first one who's had to, but that doesn't make it any easier.  This is my road, and I have to walk it out.  

   God has been so good, right beside me, and no, I'm not depressed and angry at God or Todd, or anything else.  I'm just adjusting.  I've had to walk "through the valley of the shadow of death," but I'm not setting up camp there. I'm going through and onward.   

   A preacher friend of mine, told me, "Kelley, it's a new day, it's a new day, it's not like before, it's a new day for you."  I said, "Yes, I receive that!"  It is a new day, and there's new things, but sometimes the changes shakes me a little bit.  

   I guess, maybe that word widow, reminds me of a spider or something.  But even in the new things, I'll find God's grace to live out those new changes and titles.

   And by the way, the shot has made my arm hurt more, than the nail that went up my foot.  Go figure.

   Remodeling report (Wed. night)

   As in all remodeling projects, things take longer, and cost way more than anticipated.  Tyson was finally able to get a plumber this morning, who said he could start working tomorrow (Thurs), this evening while we were eating some supper, Ty got a call from the plumber, that he had had a slight heart attack today, and was in the hospital in St Cloud. But he assured Tyson he'd send one of his assistants over tomorrow. 

   Tonight, I learned how to do knock down texture.  Tyson ran the texture sprayer thing (I'm so technical) and I was going behind him, knocking it down. (He slung mud, I knock it down! :-) It took a little getting use to, but I was finally getting the hang of it. Doing it on walls built in the 1940's, and not very even gave me even more of a challenge. I learned what "crumb and valley" mean in the dry wall world.  What an education for me.  (Todd and I textured one time in our house in Kenmare, after that, he said never again. Oh, we did texture our ceiling in our trailer home while we worked at Smith's, but I think someone came and helped us do it. )   I can't wait to see it all painted, it will look so much better.

 

 The paneling that I stepped on with that pointy nail.  It got hauled to the dump the next day.

 This was what we found when Ty was gutting the bathroom wall.  The newspapers that are crumbled dated back to the early 50's.  Crazy.

 The beginning of the bathroom demolition.  Everything had to go, black mold was awful under the window.  Tyson is going to put in a walk in tiled shower. It's going to be beautiful.

Sanding all those mudded nail holes. What a dusty job. Both of us looked a little white haired. Hee hee.