Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Category Archives: scary things


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Things learned

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The things you learn when you drop a 9×13 Pyrex baking pan on a tile floor.

1.  That you can move really really fast while scooping up Sheltie dog to get her away from the shattered glass.

2.  That the glass goes everywhere…and a long way.

3.  That the shapes of the broken glass are sort of interesting; pretty in a sad and dangerous way.

4.  That those little flecks of light on the floor aren’t droplets of water.

4.  That you have to vacuum a whole lot before you don’t hear any bits of glass being pulled up the tube anymore.  And that you will continue to vacuum long after just to be sure.  Cause you’ve got little Sheltie feet to consider.

5.  That your floor was disgustingly dirty.  You just hadn’t realized it prior to today’s close inspection.

Katie 470


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The problem isn't just in Florida – it's everywhere

Here’s an 8 minute video from a news station in Florida, talking about the increased risk of semi truck crashes, and telling the story of the semi-school bus crash that occurred in Florida in September 2008.  Be warned, it’s pretty hard to watch.  But it’s the reason we have to keep fighting the fight.

http://cbs4.com/video/?id=85849@wfor.dayport.com

Meanwhile, to all of you out there, stay safe, keep alert, give those big trucks a wide berth, and try not to be stopped in traffic on a busy road or freeway.

Miss you Dad.

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Another mountain

The Miley Cyrus song struck home this week…”Always gonna be an uphill battle…Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose…”  Though I’m not particularly a Miley fan, I thought it was an appropriate song to hear as I was driving home from work Monday.  Because Monday night I got let go due to budget issues.  Though it wasn’t a surprise, it still hurt.  I got to work the rest of this week, but today was my last day at the library.  Apparently it’s going to be an uphill battle for me to find the perfect place, to work the perfect job, to feel like I’m contributing in an environment I love.  Just another mountain along the way.

I’ve been in management most of my career, and I’ve done my share of letting people go, but I have to say I’ve never been let go before.  I have mixed feelings about the whole thing, and though I know I lost my job through no fault of my own, it still stings.  So I’ll take the weekend to do a bit of healing, and Monday I’ll figure out what to do next.  There’s a certain freedom that I haven’t felt for the past eleven months, and I think I’d like to enjoy that for a bit, but there’s also a sense of urgency hovering around the fringes of my mind that reminds me not to waste time or lose an opportunity that might lead me to that perfect Librarian position.

So for all you readers out there that enjoyed the library stories, well, you’ll have to settle for more stories about Katie.  Or the weather or the fall colors or other contemplations.  I’ll try to make those entertaining.

Meanwhile, as Miley says…”The struggles I’m facing, the chances I’m taking…sometimes might knock me down but I’m not breaking.”

And Katie says -“WELCOME HOME MOM!  Wanna play?”

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Food critic

Janelle's Place, Byron MI We’re just home from a wonderful meal at Janelle’s Place, a family restaurant in the tiny rural town of Byron Michigan, population 562.  Their slogan is; “Janelle’s Place, a little slice of heaven.”

My husband I make the hour trip over to Byron to eat on occasion because it’s owned by a friend of ours, Janelle’s Dad.  Janelle was 15 years old when she was killed three years ago, while driving home from a family trip.  Her Dad, Mom, cousin and family dog were all in the car with her.  She was the only one killed when a semi truck crashed into the back of their car as it was stopped in traffic on the freeway.   I’ve seen pictures of the car, and it amazes me that any of them survived.

Janelle’s Dad was a chef, and when things settled down somewhat he started this restaurant.  Every time I’ve been there it’s been busy, partly because there are no other restaurants for miles around, but mostly because the food is great.  Tonight I ate swordfish with a fruit salsa that was out of this world.  Who knew you could find food like that in a simple restaurant in the middle of nowhere!

So if you’re ever up this way, maybe looking at the beautiful fall foliage, take the time to visit Janelle’s Place.  Their specialty is barbecued ribs.  If you can’t decide, go for the ribs! And if you see Rob, tell him Dawn says “HI!”

I’ll give you the website, but it doesn’t have an address, so here’s that part:  110 S Saginaw, Byron, MI 48418.   ph: 810-370-1400

http://www.janellesfamilyrestaurant.com/


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A weird walk in the park

Katie 1833 Katie’s as wound up as a spring lately.  Too many rainy days, or days when I’ve got to work, or both.  We haven’t been to the park in a long time, no doggy school, no long walks anywhere.  She’s out of control with energy.  So today, given I’m not working and it’s not raining, we went to a park.

She was off and running as soon as her little feet hit the ground.  We were in a park that has softball fields, soccer fields, a water playground and picnic areas.  Of course we had to explore all of it, which was easy as there had been a cross country race earlier, and the white line on the ground used by the cross country team went by all the interesting places.  I’d just say; KATIE!  Walk the line and she’d run down the white line.  Well.  Sometimes.  Once she chased the shadow of a hawk that was soaring overhead.  Silly girl.

We were exploring all the nooks and crannies of the park when she came across this big piece of ash.  Katie 1834 I read in the paper yesterday that there was a big house fire nearby, and this ash was from that fire.  Once I noticed the first piece I noticed a lot of other pieces of ash on the pristine ball fields.  It made me sad, as it represented the loss of someone’s home and probably all their belongings as well.

Along the way we came to a big sledding hill.  Hmm…I thought, being my father’s daughter, I wonder what you can see from up there?  Well, Katie wasn’t interested in the least to climb up that hill after walking all over the park!  She looked at me as if to say:   That hill?  Not going up there Mom.  Katie 1835

And then she laid down to make her point.   I guess I’ll have to climb the hill another time, probably by myself.

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I loaded her up in the car and we went exploring, to see if we could find the house that had burned down.  It wasn’t far away, and this is what is left.

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I bought the paper, and found a picture of it taken while it was burning.  It looked like a nice house.  I’m feeling so sorry for the family that lived there.  Lukily no one was home when it burned.  Still…

Trees 1102 Pulling into our subdivision after our adventures we saw a whole big flock of young turkeys along the side of the road.  There were 8 or 9 of them.  Can you see them in this picture?

Katie and I are thanking our lucky stars this afternoon after our weird walk…she’s off to take a nap and I think I’ll mow the grass and think some more about how lucky I am to have her and a house and a family.  All safe and sound.

Dawn 094


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When 27 is all there is.

Yesterday afternoon I sat in a hot and stuffy church sanctuary waiting for a ceremony to start.  In some ways it felt like I was attending a wedding.  There were flowers.  And people dressed up.  And we kept glancing toward the back, waiting for the family to enter.  But it wasn’t a wedding, and the people sitting in the pews were sniffling, wiping tears away, hugging those long clinging hugs of grief.  The person this ceremony was for was only 27 when he died last Tuesday.  I never met him; he was the husband of a running buddy of mine who lives over on the other side of the state.  Yesterday, the day of his funeral, would have been their first wedding anniversary.

I heard the news Saturday night late, and the funeral was Sunday afternoon, coincidently not far from where I live.  Of course I had to go.  All night I slept fitfully, waking with his name on my mind.  Because you see, he chose to leave this life.  Something inside of him was so painful that he couldn’t see a way to stay.  And I’m trying to understand that now.

The parking lot was full, the sanctuary was packed.  There were probably 200 people attending the service.  I watched young men arrive, eyes red and swollen to sit alone.  I watched the family standing near, still in shock, trying to give and receive comfort.  I saw people sitting quietly watching a slide show of a young man growing up with tears sliding silently down their faces.  And I wondered the obvious.  Did he not know that all these people loved him?  Or maybe it just wasn’t enough.

So as I listened to one of his brothers and his sister-in-law sing inspirational music, to his youngest brother, maybe 17, read a poem that he had written, my eyes filled up as well.  I never met this man, but I wish somehow he could know.  And I, like everyone else there, wished I could turn back time, unravel the past, make him see.

Twenty-seven.  Life is so much bigger than twenty-seven.  The weight of the world can seem too heavy when you’re that age, but it’s just the beginning of so much more that will be wonderful.  So in honor of this young man whom I’ve never met I will try to spend more time looking around, checking on my friends and family.  I need to make sure that no one feels so alone that the weight of the world hangs so heavy, no one feels so alone that the only option is to give up.

Because yesterday two hundred people cried while singing Amazing Grace…and someone wasn’t there to hear it.


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Reconstruction

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You know when you watch people on the news after a tornado or a hurricane has ripped their lives and homes to shreds,  how they look around with tears in their eyes, in shock at all the damage, but still grateful that they’re alive?  And how they always say that no matter how bad things are, regardless of their terrible loss, that they’re going to rebuild?   Well, I always wonder how they’re doing after the news trucks and reporters have gone on to other stories.  How they are months later when the really hard work of rebuilding is happening and no one is there to notice.

In a smaller, more personal and more human way I’ve witnessed something similar; the destruction of a lifestyle, of a commitment, of certainty.  The confusing disbelief, the crazy anger, the debilitating sadness;  the hopelessness, the exhaustion, the constant and wearing questions and lists.  And as time went on  I’ve also seen the hope shining through the tears, the growth of a human spirit, the strength  growing, and the rebuilding beginning.  Out of disaster, disorder and deconstruction, through heartache and hard work, comes a new life.  Here’s proof that reconstruction is possible; that’s it necessary and difficult, but satisfactory and joyous all at the same time.  Even when no one is watching.

Congratulations little sister on your reconstruction of a deconstructed life.  You’re on your way, no time to look back, the future is yours now.  Go with it.  I’m proud of you.

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To do list

I have a whole day off, no work, no previous commitments.  It’s been awhile so I have a few things I need to get done today.  Here’s the list:

  • Go for a run.  It’s been too long since my last attempt and if you don’t keep up you have to start over …again and again.
  • Make some bread.  I have a cookbook from my library with some great bread receipes in it and a whole new concept about storing unbaked bread dough so that you can bake bread every evening if you wanted fresh for dinner.  The book will be due before I ever get to this unless I put it on “THE LIST.”
  • Wrap a shower gift.  The wedding shower is tomorrow.  I purchased the gift weeks ago but it sits unwrapped.  I need a card too.  Darn.  That means a trip to a store somewhere.  What was I thinking when I got the gift?  That I’d use a marker and just write her (and my) name on the box?
  • Vacuum.  Have dog.  And husband.  Haven’t vacuumed in maybe three weeks.  Enough said.
  • Laundry.  See above.
  • Finish reading “Reliable Wife” by Robert Goolrick.  It’s a very good book and it was due back to the library two days ago. I’m on page 169 of a 290 page book.  Being a librarian means you have no time to read all the good books you see coming and going.  It’s a job hazard.
  • Take the dog to the park.  She’s already whining and it’s just barely 7:00 a.m.  Obviously she hasn’t read “THE LIST” yet.
  • Help husband dig up the roots to a tree he removed so that we can plant something there that doesn’t have suckers that grow up through everything.  I’m hoping it rains because I don’t have time.
  • Weed, especially the vegetable garden.  My little stubby beans are being overrun by non-vegetable matter.
  • Update the resume and write a cover letter for a librarian position that is 59 miles away.  It’s become apparent that I will be on lay off, maybe next week, maybe the end of summer, certainly prior to the end of the fiscal year this fall.  So it’s time to start looking again.  Maybe I should do this first.  Well.  Right after the run.

Katie girl, you better hang on tight, Mama’s going to be moving fast today!

katie-1455


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Truck drivers can be heros too

On one of our busiest freeways last night a couple of truck drivers saved some lives, probably even their own.  Apparently a car, speeding around a curve  on I-75, drifted from it’s lane and crashed into a tanker truck which was hauling thousands of gallons of fuel.  A semi truck driver, seeing what was unfolding, moved out of the way to give the tanker more room.  If that driver hadn’t been paying attention and had collided with the tanker an explosion would have occurred immediately, probably killing both truck drivers and perhaps other people as well.  As it was, the tanker rolled over, its driver was able to get out of the cab and scramble up the embankment, the semi driver was able to stop and run from the area, and all the other drivers of cars were able to run away from the area as well.  The tanker exploded into a huge fire ball seconds later, flames shooting 100 feet into the air.  The heat from the fire caused a major overpass to collapse on top of the trucks.

Last night as I watched live footage of the flames everyone wondered how many fatalities there would be.  Firemen could see multiple vehicles  but the fire was so hot no one could check to see if any were occupied.   I went to bed wondering how many families would get that awful telephone call.  This morning a miracle shows its face.  No one died.  Only three minor injuries.  It’s amazing, and yet it isn’t.  People paying attention while they’re driving is the key, whether they’re truck or passenger vehicle drivers.

Last night a observant truck driver saved lives.   As I’m quick to criticize truckers who make errors that cost lives, it’s only fair to acknowledge that truck drivers can be heros too.

Here’s a link to the story:  http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/07/15/michigan.tanker.fire/index.html


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Age is but a number. But my number is bigger that I realized.

Lately I’ve begun to realize that I’m a lot older than I thought.   I think the fact that we never had children kept me, in an odd way, young.  I didn’t have a measuring stick of time going by, didn’t watch a child head off to kindergarten, graduate from high school, have kids of their own.  Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m still just out of school.  Ok.  Not just out of high school, but certainly just out of college.  Undergrad college, when the future was bright and all things were possible.  Forgotten is the fact that I graduated in the late 70’s when we were in a recession and there were no jobs.  Or that when I got out of grad school the first time with my MBA it was the late 80’s when there were no jobs.  And here I am again, a year out of grad school, working part time in a public library when everything is crazy, there are no jobs, funding is being cut and savings are being drained.  But I digress.

I’ve always thought that the future was endless, that all possibilities were open, that there was time to try everything I’ve ever been interested in.  Whenever something came along that sounded fun I’d add it to the list of things to do “some day.”  It’s only been recently that I’ve begun to realize that there are not infinite “some days” out there, and that possibly, just possibly I’m not going to get around to doing all the things on my wish list.  Oddly enough this realization is happening in part because I’m working at a library.

At the library I get to work with lots of people, all ages, and while I like working with such a wide variety of people, my favorite group has always been senior citizens.  Especially senior citizen readers.  What’s becoming clear to me is that some of these seniors are not much older than I am!  This is a shock and not one I’m adjusting to gracefully!  As I’m registering new patrons for library cards and entering their data into the system I’m beginning to notice birth dates.  And the most difficult thing for me to reconcile is that many of these adults are people that could have been my children!  They were born as I was graduating from college the first time.  And they have children of their own who could be my grandchildren!

I think in my prior life, when I didn’t have access to actual birth dates I went along thinking that everyone was pretty much my age, whatever age that was.   I had no proof that life was moving ahead, time was slipping away.  Now I do, and I’m going to have to figure out how to deal with it.  There are lots of things I still want to do and  I always figured I’d get to it all.  Now I think I may have to condense a few things or leave them off the list entirely.  Might never learn to fly that plane.  Might never live in a downtown loft,  out in a tiny cabin in the middle of my own 50 acres, or on the shores of a Great Lake.  Might not write that great American novel.  Might not bike from coast to coast, or hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Might be that all the marathons I’ll run have already been run.  Maybe I won’t have time to learn another language, get that PhD, or start a nonprofit.  Maybe I won’t make a difference in one student’s life, put someone through college or get on-board recorders mandated on all big trucks.  Maybe not in this lifetime.

Then again.  Just might.

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