Memory #

When I was about 20 or so, my dad adopted a retired racing greyhound....except he didn't tell me. I walked into his house without knowing about this dog when I heard what I thought to be a small angry horse. I was met by this large brindle greyhound who was growling and showing his teeth. I immediately thought " He is going to eat me". The dog got right to me and stopped, sniffed me and licked my face. About the time, my dad came around the corner and said, "Tut! Leave her alone. She's ok". I looked up at my dad and said," Wouldn't it have been helpful to tell me about that BEFORE I got here?" He laughed that wonderful laugh of his and shook his head. I sat down on the couch and Tut stood there staring at me. My dad said, "Honey, that's Tut's seat." I said, "No, its not. I am the human, he is the dog. I sit where I want." Tut stared at me, then jumped up on me and the couch and laid across my lap. My dad said," I told you that was his seat". Tut and I grew to love one another. He loved me, my cats and my dad. When my eldest cat passed away  when I was 20 (my dad was caring for her), Tut wrapped his body around her to keep her body warm. My dad said that when he came down the stairs that morning and he saw that, he knew something was wrong. He said he went to touch the cat and Tut wouldn't let him near her at first. My dad told me how Tut mourned her death more than the other animals. I thought that dog was great and my dad loved him so much.

Memory #11 A song....

He adored this song and often played it on vinyl for me. For me it sums up a lot about his thoughts on God and Heaven- simple and profound at the same time. As a child, I merely enjoyed the musical aspect of this song- thought the music was cool and there was hand clapping involved.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umQCgaZnO0o

Memory #10 Pea Soup and a tantrum

I remember being a small child and accompanying my dad to a local child care facility where he worked. I recall they were serving pea soup for lunch with celery and peanut butter on the side. I distinctly remember this because I HATE peas and have for a long time. I threw a tantrum yelling at the teacher that I didn't have to eat that "stuff" because my dad worked there and I was "special". That yelling prompted my dad to come into the room as he heard me. He pulled me aside and said quietly that he knew I was special but that didn't mean I could show myself. He instructed me to taste the soup, as well as the celery/peanut butter and if I did not care for it then so be it. But I was not to yell at anyone or spit food out; I could sit quietly until my friends were finished. I hung my head and went back to my seat; tasted the soup and gagged but sat there quietly.

#9 Thanksgiving Memory

I hate holidays. I don't have very specific Thanksgiving memories of my dad. At least not specific to a year or anything like that. What I do remember is watching him (and sometimes helping) prepare his Thanksgiving ham, mashed potatoes and stuffing. He wasn't the best all around cook, but when he cooked something well, he did it right. I don't know how he did it, but his ham was always so good.

There was one year he attempted to make a chocolate pie. It was not successful. It turned orange. How does that happen? But what I remember most about that experience is how much we laughed about and sat down in the kitchen floor with this chocolate orange colored "pie" and ate it with spoons from the bowl.
I just miss him. The holidays always make it worse and I know that I am no different from others. It still just sucks.

Memory #8 Kindergarten Sing -A- Long

When I was in Kindergarten, Dad received permission to come to my class to sing songs with us. He brought his guitar and spent most of the day with my class. I was so excited that he was going to be at my school. I think I wanted to "show him off" to my classmates. You know, the whole "Thats MY dad. He's better than YOUR dad" mentality. But hey, I was 5 years old. I was so excited to see him when he walked into the classroom. I had even dressed up in a little plaid jumper (yes,  I remember what I was wearing that day). We all sat down on the big carpet. He asked for requests. Kids shouted out different songs and he played and sang. We all sang along with him. Other kids started getting closer to him and I did not like that one bit. I even pushed a little boy down who moved over next to my dad. My dad quietly told me to sit down and keep my hands to myself or I wouldn't be able to sing with them anymore. I sat down while keeping my eye on the other kid. Then my awesome teacher, Mrs. Brenda Bunn, said I could choose a song to sing for the last song my dad would play. I requested "The Itsy Bitsy Spider". I got up and "danced". I sang my heart out with this song and did what most people would call an "interpretive dance" to it. I remember looking at my dad's face during this moment and he had the biggest smile. After he completed the song, he put his guitar away and we all had to go to our seats. As he left the classroom, I ran over to tell him "bye". I started to cry and told him not to go. You see, at that point in my life I only saw him every other weekend as I still lived with my mother. I knew that day that it would be a little longer until I saw him again. He peeled me off of him and told me he loved me and would see me soon but that I needed to be a big girl and go sit in my chair. I obliged but cried the rest of the day. Consequently, I had a new respect for the kid who cried all the time in my class.
Several years prior to my dad's passing, he asked me if I remembered when he visited my Kindergarten class and my "dance" to Itsy Bitsy Spider. I laughed and said, "of course I do. I spun and twirled and shook my hiney. I also remember being so sad that you left and how I cried all day". Its funny how that has always been my reaction to him leaving: whether it be from my Kindergarten class; our home after a heated argument ; or when he left this Earth for good...

Memory #7- Freshman Band pictures

It was Fall of 1992 and me being the band geek I was (and still at heart, am) had to participate in having band pictures taken. They were taken at the beautiful backdrop of the Morrow Library at Marshall University. We didn't have a car at this point, so we had to take a taxi down to Marshall. I was horrified that we had to ride in a taxi. We were soooooooooo uncool. My dad also had his "walking stick" - which was a long bamboo rod with a rubber stopper looking thing on the end. He didn't need it; he just wanted to carry it. Once we arrived at MU, he began talking to anybody and everybody. That was his nature; but I was unbelievably embarrassed that my father would talk to people that I knew. There really isn't a point to this story, but I just remember how unhappy I was with him that day because of  his social ability. I know every teenager is mortified by their parents at some point so I know I wasn't the only one. There were times I wished he didn't talk to everyone but I didn't appreciate his friendliness with other people. I didn't want him to talk to others. I thought it was weird. But looking back on it now as a rational adult I know it was just his nature and I appreciate it so much.

Memory #6 - Things that go bump in the night...

It was the summer of 93. Insomnia ran rampant in our home. Granny didn't sleep well because of pain and restless leg syndrome; Dad because of nightmares and flashbacks from Vietnam; Me because of the other 2. One night I was up late while everyone else was actually asleep. It was well after midnight and I decided to fix a bowl of cereal and watch a movie on Lifetime. I finished my bowl of cereal and began to feel sleepy so I thought I would try to get some sleep. Keep in mind the lights are off at this point. I walked into the kitchen to put my bowl in the sink and walked (literally) into my dad. I screamed and began to cry. He says,"Why did you scream? Why are you crying?" I said through my sobs," You scared me. I didn't hear you get up. " He then says, "Well why did the bowl shatter?" I continued to sob and said," Because I dropped it when you scared me." For reference purposes, my dad had been in the Marine Corps and had done a stint in Vietnam and learned to walk without making a sound. This was one of those instances; compounded with the lights being off and it being the middle of the night- well it scared the life out of me.
He helped me sweep up the broken bowl. He told me to go to bed and he would "try to be quiet". I laughed when he said that because he was ALWAYS quiet when he putzed around the house.

Memory #5- Hardee's on Third Avenue and rabbit food

I hate good intentions sometimes... I really do want to write about all of these great memories but life just gets in the way sometimes.
But alas... here is memory #5.
I was probably about 7 years old or so. One Hundred and One Dalmatians had been re-released to the theaters. This is relevant to this memory as Hardee's was selling plush Dalmatian puppies with certain meals. I was determined to get one of those dogs. My dad and I went to the Hardee's on Third Avenue in Huntington (which is now Buddy's All- American BBQ for those of you keeping score) with his friend, Cameron (Ami may have been there for this, but I don't think she was). I ended up with a breaded chicken sandwich that had mayo and lettuce on it. I protested about the lettuce on my sandwich. I liked lettuce in salads but I did not care for shredded lettuce on a sandwich. My dad told me to quiet down and that eating  "a little rabbit food" wasn't going to kill me. I started to cry saying I didn't want to eat rabbit food. He tried to keep from laughing, but he did try to calm me and reassure me that rabbits eat lettuce sometimes and that I wasn't actually eating food specifically for rabbits. I ate my sandwich through tears. I did get my plush Dalmatian puppy though.
There are times I think, "how on earth did my dad do it? How did he not laugh at everything I said? How did he keep an even keel when I was uneven so to speak?" I think back to my childhood and think that I would not have had the patience to deal with me and think even more highly of him for that.

Memory #4

I was 17 years old and my cat, Freeway had been acting strange. She had been urinating in weird places, drinking excessive amounts of water and appearing disoriented and confused at times. Granted, she was a good 14 years of age.But she had changed and was no longer the spunky kitty cat who greeted me every morning at 6am with a loud squall to wake me. One day while I was at school, my dad took her to the vet to have her checked out. When my dad picked me up from school, I knew something wasn't right. He had a look on his face that to this day I can't explain. I asked him what was wrong. He said you will need to call the vet when we get home so he can explain the options for Freeway. I knew something had to be very very wrong. I called the vet as soon as I got in the house. The vet explained that my beloved kitty had developed Diabetes and was very ill. He explained that she could potentially be treated every morning at his office with an injection of insulin, but he didn't feel that at her advanced age that was a fair choice. He noted her extreme anxiety anytime she was brought in for a visit and how long it took her to recover from a vet visit (we had told him from the get go when she was a kitty that it would take her days to recover emotionally). He felt that we would not be doing her any favors by increasing her anxiety and that she had lived a good , long, healthy life. He recommended we bring her in to have her pts. I told the vet I would talk with my dad. My dad already knew what we would do, but he had said from the very beginning that Freeway was my cat and he felt I needed to have a say so in her treatments and especially with a decision like this. We made the decision to have her PTS. I held her in my lap as we drove to the vets office. Once we got back to the exam room, the vet gave her a sedative to relax her before giving her the final injection. I watched my dad talk to her, kiss her head and tell her what a good girl she was. He thanked her for choosing us to be her family (she was a stray that followed us for several weeks). He then started to cry uncontrollably. This is one of 4 times I ever saw him shed a tear- (the first time was when another cat passed away the previous year). I tried to keep it together but it was hard. I had to drive home because he was in no shape to do so.
I just remember seeing how emotional he was about this and thought how he had such a big heart. Little kids and animals adored him. I think because he "got" them. He understood them on their terms in their world.

excuses and challenges...

Ok, so maybe I haven't been writing down a memory every day. Life gets in the way sometimes.

So what I will do is write 365 memories.. whether it takes a year or longer or less to come up with them..so be it.

There are so many things to say at times about my memories with my dad. Some are music related. Some are sad memories. Some are happy. Some make me angry. But then again that is life. People aren't always happy. People aren't always mad or sad. To only select happy memories would not be an honest recollection of the good man he was.

Day 3 Memory

Day 3: Memory
I was in high school when this happened. We were such random people. Weird, odd things happened to us...all the time. We had eaten a fresh fish dinner with broccoli as a side. Shortly after dinner, my dad put a piece of Trident Freshmint flavor in his mouth. A few moments after that, his face crinkled and he spit out his gum. I asked him what was wrong. He simply replied, " There's a reason Trident doesn't sell 'Fishmint' gum". Evidently as he chewed a small piece of fish unwedged itself from between his teeth. I know. I know. That's gross. But it really cracks me up.

Day 2: Memory

Today's memory is brought to you by a werewolf and the city of London.

As many people know, my dad was a big fan of music. This particular memory is short, but sweet.

He had Warren Zevon's "Werewolf of London" on vinyl and he played it for me when I was probably 5 or 6 years old. During the chorus, he would hold his head back and "Ah oooooooooo" along with it. He was so happy sharing that with me. Of course, as a child I thought it was funny that a man howled during a song. At any rate, this one is a keeper.

Day 1: Memory

The one that popped in my head is so dumb. Mainly because it is of what I did.
I was in high school- the summer between my freshman and sophomore year. My dad and I were watching "Pops goes the 4th" where the Boston Pops plays a multitude of patriotic songs,etc at the big theatre on the harbour. It was at the end when the Pops always performs "1812 Overture" and it features the firing of a canon. I looked at my dad and asked, "Where do the canon balls go?". Yes, I was being serious. To get the full picture, I was sitting on the other side of the room to my dad's left. He was drinking from a coffee cup. He set it down and looked at me and said, " I know that my intelligent child did not just ask where the canon balls go?" I said,"Well, where do they go?" He shook his head and said,"Honey- they do not fire canons into the Boston harbor or the crowd. They aren't firing any canon balls. It's just the boom." I specifically remember blinking at him. He started to laugh and stood up and walked out of the room shaking his head.
He talked about that for years... "Do you remember when you thought they fired canon balls at people at the Boston Pops concert?...."

Memory for a day....

I have decided that I am going to write one memory of my dad (or at least a memory that he is on at some point) each day for a year. By the time that is done, I believe I will have a nice collection of memories. ::)

stepping away...

I am going to step away from the Gratitude Challenge for some time. Not that I am not grateful for a lot. I just had something on my heart and it will take awhile to write/blog about so stay tuned....

Humble Pie

Stepping away from the Gratitude Challenge for a moment, a few related thoughts and ideas are on my mind right now.

People that know me know that I do not have children and don't intend on having children. It certainly isn't because I don't like kids or  hate them or anything crazy like that.
I absolutely adore children and love my work with children who need a little bit of help. Children aren't just part of the plan for Josh and I. Having said that, I think that parents have a tough job in the world. I don't know how they do it on a daily basis. Sometimes a couple of hours with a child or two exhausts and frustrates me, but at the same time I can find such joy and happiness in those same two hours. Maybe that's why parents do it. Maybe that's how they do it.
In my job, I have the privilege of partnering with parents and their children who need a little help. Most days come and go without a hiccup. Then there are some that leave me speechless and heartbroken. Today for a brief while, I didn't know what to say or what to do. A few of my kids are currently in pediatric wards for serious illnesses. I went to visit one of them and his mother today. I knew he had become sick but I guess I wasn't prepared for it. He had numerous tubes attached to him, including a vent so he could breathe. I am used to seeing this bubbly happy baby boy; not this baby. I nearly cried when I saw him, but I didn't cry in front of Mom. I waited until I got to my car. It just made me sad.... and guilty. Guilty simply because I complained earlier in the day that I didn't sleep well last night and here was this momma who has hardly slept in over a week because of how sick her baby is. I don't know how she has done it. I guess because she has no other choice but to be there for her child. The strength that it takes to do what has to be done when a person's child needs help.  I have been told that a parent just does it because they have to. Maybe that's why I don't have kids. I don't have THAT kind of strength. That is humbling.

Gratitude Challenge Day 5

Day 5: Take five minutes to write about how grateful you are for all of the wonderful things that you currently have in
your life. Don’t long for what you don’t possess—instead, take stock of all the blessings you already enjoy.

I have a good life. I have a good job that allows me to connect with human beings everyday. I know I make a difference in one person's life everyday. I have a roof over my head. I have clothes to wear and a washer and dryer. I have food in my kitchen. I have family and friends that enrich my life.
There are a lot of people that don't have simple, basic things. I should be and am grateful for the fact I have basic necessities.

Gratitude Challenge : Day 4

Day 4:
Write a short message of thanks for some of the “negative” things in your life.

Negative things in my life. Hmmmmm.

Being overweight. - I could be thankful for that because it means I have food to eat .

Getting my feelings hurt- Thankful that I have the ability to feel different emotions.

While I will never be grateful or thankful that my dad died, his sudden passing forced me to look deep within myself and find strength that I never knew I had.

Gratitude Challenge Day 3

Day 3: Write about something you feel grateful for in your life today.

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month (among other very important causes). Having worked with domestic violence victims for a number of years and sometimes worked with children that come from homes where DV is prevalent, this is something that is dear to me.

I am grateful that I have a husband who does not hurt me. A husband that learned in Kindergarten to "keep your hands to yourself". A husband that treats me with respect. A husband that adores me. A husband that doesn't have to say, "I love you" because he shows me everyday- although he does tell me everyday.

Sure, we have arguments and disagreements, but we are human. It happens. On this day and every other day, I am grateful to have a good husband who is so perfect for me. He isn't perfect and neither am I. But we are perfect for each other.

With that said, I know that statistics  especially in the state of WV indicate that many many people aren't as lucky. I hate that that garbage happens everyday to innocent people. It isn't right. Sometimes I almost feel guilty because I don't experience abuse in "the name of love".  That probably doesn't make sense to most people, but that is how I feel. Kinda like survivor's guilt, maybe? At any rate, while I am grateful for my love and husband; I am grateful that my husband thinks it is ridiculous that people hurt other people and has long been a supporter of DV victims and awareness for the problem.

Be thankful for the healthy relationships in your life, but think of others that may not be as lucky. There are always people who can help. There are agencies that can do so.

Day 2: Gratitude Challenge

Day 2: Use the alphabet as a fun and quick format for making a list of things for which you feel grateful.

A-Autism- Now, before anyone gets their panties all in a wad let me explain this. I know how devastating autism is and how much it sucks and I would not wish it on my worst enemy's child. But from my side of it, if autism did not exist I would not have met the wonderful hard working parents that I have and I would NEVER have had the chance to meet some of THE coolest, neatest kids ever. With that said, I would not have found my niche, my thing, the thing I am good at. I GET these kids. They know that I get them and I am so grateful for the chances I have to make a difference in their lives. Maybe that's selfish of me, and I get that , but please understand that I did not say this with malicious intent.
B-Bacon- Simply put, I love bacon.
C- cats
D- dogs
E- epiphanies
F- forgiveness
G-Giving of one's self.
H- Hearts that work correctly
I- my own idiosyncracies. We all have them and it makes us who we are.
J- Joy
K- Kindness of strangers
L- Laughter
M-Marriage. I am lucky enough to have found my one and only. I believe deeply in the meaning of marriage and the commitment it requires. It is a partnership and truly takes work. I am grateful that my marriage works, is built to last (that sounds like a car commercial..lol) and that I enjoy it.
N- having a nose. Sure, we all take it for granted, but where would I be without my nose? I would look weird, that's for sure. I wouldn't be able to smell wet grass, or the air by the sea or the way my husband's face smells when he gets out of the shower.
O- Opportunities that present themselves in different ways
P- photos
Q- Quiet places
R- the ability to remember my childhood, my teenage years and all of the little things along the way.
S- sunshine and smiles
T- the opportunity to teach
U- Understanding others.
V-my aunt Vera. She is the last of my dad's family that I have left. I am glad she is still around. She gets it on those days when I e-mail her just to say , "I miss him." or "I miss Gran". She misses them,too.
W- West Virginia- if you have never been to this state, especially the mountains, you do not know what you are missing.
X- Xaiver Scott, my late uncle. He brought such smiles to my face and I miss him. But I am so glad that he was brought into my life when he was.
Y- Youthful features. I know, I know. That is pretty selfish and vain, but I really am pretty lucky here. My dad looked like he was in his early 40's when he passed and he was 63. Heredity at its finest :)
Z- the zebra and its stripes... Unique as one's fingertips. the zebra is mother nature's way of saying, " Go ahead, be different". We should all take pause and be glad we are all different and unique.

Gratitude Challenge

A friend of mine posted this on Facebook and it looked interesting enough and I thought I would do this.

Day 1 Today you start The Gratitude Challenge. Sign the contract and make a commitment to take note and give
thanks for the next 21 days. Express why you accepted this challenge and what you hope to achieve from it.

I accepted this challenge because on any given day I don't always have the most positive outlook and honestly I don't have much to complain about yet I do complain. I think I have a pretty decent life, yet I don't think that I am thankful enough. So, hopefully this challenge will help open my eyes a little more.

Time, grief and understanding

It has been nearly 2 and a half years since my dad passed. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him. He has been on my mind ALOT lately. Sometimes it all seems like a dream that he is gone. It seems so ridiculous that he isn't on this planet. There are times when I read an article or hear a song and think, "I need to tell Dad about that..." Granted, that thought lasts a nanosecond. But you get the idea.

The grief process is a tricky creature. I have found myself in varying stages of grief, only to return to a previous stage. I know that is normal, but it seriously stinks sometimes. Sure, I acknowledge and accept that he isn't here anymore. I get it. But it doesn't mean that I am okay with his death. No one should ever be " okay" with the loss of someone.  Most days come and go without sadness. Then there are other days that simply suck. No other way to describe it. They just suck. Those days are the ones that reach right into your soul out of nowhere. Grief appears out of nowhere sometimes and rather unexpectedly. For me, the first time unexpected grief happened was about a year after he died and I was taking a CPR class and I had to watch a video on how to save a heart attack victim. (For those of you that don't know, my dad died of sudden cardiopulmonary arrest). I began to sweat and shake because I didn't know what to do. I hated every second of that training. Of course, that took me right back to the day he died wondering if I had been there, could I have saved him with this life saving information? I told you grief was tricky.  I have felt a lot of guilt since he died. I know that is part of the process, but it doesn't help.
I have found different ways to cope and truthfully, no one way works. About 6 months after he died, I just couldn't keep it together and found myself sobbing in my kitchen after I broke a plate that was the last plate remaining from a small collection he had given me. So, with the support of my husband I went to see a grief therapist. That helped me put things in perspective. I admit, I felt a little foolish sobbing in front of a stranger in a quiet little office. But,I assure you the third person's perspective was helpful and she could offer a different opinion and be objective. She gave me some ideas to help and since then I have tried to use them. However, I decided to do something on my own and sometimes it makes me sad yet at the same time, it makes me happy. Crazy, I know. I buy a card for him on his birthday, on Father's Day, on Veterans Day and on Christmas. I write short messages in them and put them in a photo box. It helps me and if it isn't hurting anyone else, why not do it?
My therapist had suggested I write him a letter to tell him how I feel and how that can be helpful. I never did that until now. She was right. It does help. I realize some folks may think this is too personal and private to put out there. Maybe it is. But if it helps one person who has experienced the loss of a parent, then it works for me. Plus, I think this may give my friends, family and colleagues some perspective and what I feel and experience every day. It may give some insight as to why I say or do some of the things I do.


Dear Dad,
I can't believe you are gone and I cannot believe you have been gone now for over 2 years. I really do think I miss you a little more everyday. I know that it isn't possible to have loved you anymore that day or any day since then. My heart broke that day. I don't think it has ever healed; nor do I believe it will.
I admit, I am angry that you left me without saying good-bye. Then again, I don't know that that would have been any easier. It's funny how I am reminded of things you told me when I was younger about your own mortality: You told me on more than once occasion that " I'm not going to live to be an old man,honey. My heart won't make it." The irony of that statement is that it was your heart that gave out. You also told me: " When the man upstairs calls my number,my time here is up and there is nothing I can do about it". So I believe that your number was up. I know now you were ready. I wasn't. But you were. Sometimes I wonder if you knew subconsciously the last time we saw one another if that would be the last time. It was such a wonderful visit. Your blue eyes twinkled and you laughed so much. I wish I could have stayed a little longer than day knowing now that would be it. But you walked me to my car and hugged me. You told me you loved me and stood on the sidewalk watching me drive away.
I was so angry the day you died for so many reasons- most of which have to do with your widow. I hate that I couldn't give you the full proper memorial service you wanted and deserved. I have often wondered if I didn't try hard enough for that and if you were disappointed. I hope not. I did what I could.


There is a lot that I would love to do and say with you right now. So here goes..... I want to pick up the phone everyday and tell you about all of the different things that have happened in my life. I want you to laugh your high pitched laugh and clap your hands because you enjoyed a story so much. I want to stand next to you in the kitchen and fix dinner. I want to laugh with you about the geneology of the Johnson/Bird/Carpenter family from several generations back and how the family tree resembles more of a spider web than a tree (which by the way, I want to seriously thank your dad for marrying Granny who was outside the Turkey Creek gene pool). I want to take a walk with you down the street where I picked up my first pebble. I want to stay up late talking over a cup of coffee about the latest world events.I want to sit  in the living room with you while you play guitar and sing. I want to take back the times I rolled my eyes at you. I want you to explain the brilliance of CCR, Jimi Hendrix and The Beach Boys. Yeah, I know you told me all about it when I was a little girl, but I want to hear it from you now as an adult since I have a much better appreciation for it. I want to go to the grocery store with you. We always had the best times doing those kinds of activities.Thanks for reading to me and also buying books for me when I was a child. I have "The Tooth Book" and love it just as much now as I did then.Thank you so much for introducing me when I was very young to people who were different than me (cultures, abilities, ethnicities). It shaped who I am and clearly led me to my calling in life. I have you to thank for that. I am sorry for being a mouthy disrespectful teenager and for not trying harder to understand your reasons for some of your parenting decisions (which for the record, as an adult I completely get it now).I also apologize for not trying harder when you and I were attempting to navigate a very bumpy path in our father/ daughter relationship. I know it wasn't easy.  You did the very best that you were capable of doing given the challenges you had in life. You were good enough. You didn't have to prove yourself to me. You took care of me when you were supposed to. You gave so much of yourself for me. I never forgot it. I never will. I think you deserved more in life and I am sorry I couldn't support some of your decisions. I forgive you AND myself for some of our heated exchanges and misunderstandings. I know those difficulties happened because I am just like you: emotional, yet illogical, yet passionate.
Despite some of our bumpy steps, I am so proud to be your daughter. Someone told me that you left quite the legacy in me. I think they are right. People know me as Doug Johnson's daughter. That isn't a bad thing to be known as in this world. I hope that I have turned out to be the strong-willed, independent and determined woman you raised me to be. Neither one of us knew how beneficial my stubborn streak would be.
It turns out that it has come in quite handy in life. In closing, I miss you more than you could ever know. I hope to continue to make you proud. Thank you for loving me with such a fiery spirit. I know I loved you and still do with an equal amount of fire and emotion. I'll see you when He lets me.

 Your daughter eternally,
Amber Leigh

A long time friend

It is funny how life can take people in different directions.
Many many moons ago, I was born and 5 months later my BFF, Ami was born. Our parents were friends and it seemed inevitable that we would be friends. When I think back to my childhood, she is a part of that. We didn't go to the same school together in elementary school or middle school as some experiences in my life took me to a different location in the state.
As luck and life would have it, I moved back to Huntington to live with my dad. I started high school in the fall of 1992 and there Ami was...at band camp, playing the flute. I hadn't seen her in I would estimate about 6 or 7 years at that point. I was excited and scared at the same time to see her. Turns out it was a good thing to see her then :)
Throughout high school and even the first semester of college, she and I were not immune from the typical high school teenage girl drama and we hit a few rough patches. We somehow managed to work through them, despite both of us being emotional ( and me being irrational at times). I guess that's how relationships work sometimes.
At some point toward the end of our undergrad days, we drifted apart for any number of reasons. Although truthfully geography played a big part of that as she and her husband moved further away from WV. Over the years, I missed her terribly. I would think,"I wonder what Ami would think of this..." or " Ami would totally get that...". I later found out she thought similar things about me. Say what you will about Facebook, but it was a Godsend for us.

Then in May 2009, our world changed. My dad died suddenly. He had been a big part of her childhood and I know his passing hurt her. Obviously, I was devastated. But she called me that day (like I said, FB was a God send... we had phone numbers for one another at that point) and it was like we hadn't missed a beat. I have since relied on her for emotional support or perspective  (well, I did when we were younger,too but you know what I mean...). Honestly, I just missed her.

Then in July of this year, she and her little family made a trip to WV and I was able to see her and 2 of her 3 kids. We determined it had been 11 years since we had seen one another. We said that it wouldn't be another 11 years. As of today, she is now a resident of WV again. I am so excited that she is less than 2 hours away now.

I am lucky that I can say that the first friend I remember having in life is still my friend at 33 years of age. Maybe friendship is like a fine wine...gets better with age. I just know that my life is for the better because she is in it.

Welcome and maybe an explanation or two.

Howdy and welcome to my blog. There will be times that I write about nothing important; days when I write about something very exciting and of big importance; and days where I write about personal things. Hopefully you will enjoy what you read or at the very least find something insightful about it.

Now to explain what the name of my blog means. Several years ago, one of the school aged children I was working with was making animal sounds for various animals. We stumbled upon the zebra and I asked, "what sound does a zebra make?" He looked thoughtfully for a moment than said, " and the zebra goes clippity clop". I have said since that day that one day I would write and that would be my title.

My blog address features "amber azul" which literally means "blue Amber". The Amber part of it should be a no brainer, but the blue probably raises some questions. Blue Amber is very rare in nature and only found in one place in this world. Putting that into a different perspective, I know I am certainly one of a kind for a lot of reasons. So Amber azul was born in this blog.