gluten free

Those who know me, know I live my life around the bathroom.

Like literally.

If I'm going on a road trip- I don't eat until I have reached my destination.

If I'm staying over night some where, visiting friends at their place and/or traveling- I eat Imodium.

If I have to run errands in town- I schedule my day around the nearest toilet.

 

If my sister and cousins read this, they can confirm.

Actually, I'm sure they could tell you a few embarrassing stories!

But lets hope they don't :)

 

As far back as I can remember, this has been my life.

At first it was embarrassing and I lived a miserable life because of it.

Now, not so much. I've come to embrace it. 

 (okay, maybe not embrace it, but I've learned to deal with it.)

On my first date with my now hubby, I told him...

"if I say I have to use the restroom- I mean pull over now, not 10 minutes down the road."

I'm pretty sure he looked at my like I was crazy, but within a few dates, he understood completely.

 

 

Even though I have always had a "sensitive" stomach- I've been able to live with it. 

Yes, it was embarrassing at times.

Yes, it was miserable.

Yes, it sucked.

But it never got to the point where I thought something major was wrong.

 

Until this past summer.

 

Going to the bathroom 3-4 times a day was nothing!

The cramps were killing me.  Like almost as bad as contractions.

So I finally made an appointment with the GI doctor.

Since I wasn't having blood, he wanted to try me on iron 3x a day to see if that would help.

It didn't.

I was still going constantly.

Then one week in November, I started having some blood and lost almost 6lbs in just a few days.

So back to the doctor I went.

He scheduled me for a colonoscopy that week.

(NO ONE SHOULD EVER HAVE TO DO THAT!!!!!)

But thankfully mine came back normal. My colon was fine!

So we did another test to check my stomach and intestines.

Plus blood work to see if I was allergic to gluten.

The week before New Years, I found out that I was in fact allergic to gluten.

 

 

With all of that being said...

I'm now learning to cut out gluten.

No, I'm not that crazy person who is cutting it all out at once.

I have my cheat days!

I'm also not that person who is going to make my own mustard, ketchup, ranch and blah blah blah.

So basically I'm just cutting out my carbs and stuff that obviously has gluten.

 

BUT

tonight I was going to be all domestic and make home made gluten free sweet potato muffins.

I should have known that was a terrible idea.

It was a major fail!!!!!

 

 

 

So on this blog you will probably see me post about:
having celiac
hating gluten free stuff
trying new gluten free stuff

but you will not see me post about:
recipes
and how great gluten free stuff is

because lets be honest, I would rather have a cheeseburger, beer and a big chocolate chip cookie with REAL flour.
and obviously cooking gluten free just isn't my thing.

 

 

childlike faith

* just a little fact before going into this blog.  I'm okay with thunderstorms.  They don't bother me at all unless I'm out in them.  I hate loathe driving in them.  I would rather be in a room full of grasshoppers than to drive in the rain- much less storm. And if you know me, you know I'm terrified of grasshoppers. *

 

 

In a post not long ago, I wrote about how we all deal with struggles in our lives.  I mentioned briefly about the struggle I'm facing and how it's personally the hardest thing I have ever been through.  I also wrote how on that day, I saw God.  How he was giving me strength to face it head on... again. 

 

That blog wasn't a lie.  That day was one of the hardest days I have ever faced.  Seeing my personal battle again was painful.  That day I just sat on my bedroom floor and cried.  I didn't know how I was going to go forward.  But like I said in that post, I saw God.  He surrounded me with His grace and love.  The comfort I felt after laying on the floor and crying out to Him, was incredible.  Something I cannot put into words. 

BUT

not every day is like that.

 

No, not every day do I see God or feel Him. 

Did he disappear?  Is he too busy for me?  Is my problem not big enough anymore?  Does He think I don't need Him? 

Why don't I feel Him every day??

Why is that some days His comfort is every where and then on others, sadness comes in?

Why is that on some days I feel like His will is being done and I shouldn't worry, but on other days I feel noting but doubt? Fear.

 

 

Well, today I had some errands I had to get done.  I had been putting it off as long as I could.  I couldn't put it off any longer.

So I got myself and Brilee dressed and off to town we went.

First stop, Bossier.  I had to go get measured for a bridesmaid dress.  On the way, I noticed the clouds looked a little dark- okay, a lot dark. But it was kinda far off so I didn't think much of it.  I got to the store, got measured, back in the car and Brilee started crying for french fries.  Off to McDonalds we went.  While ordering her food, the wind started to pick up and the sky was getting darker and darker.  By this time, I was telling myself we just needed to go home.  But I had more errands that needed to get done.  So I called my hubby and asked him how the weather was in Shreveport and how it looked on his phone.  He said... "it's a little cloudy, but nothing bad.. doesn't look like it's going to get bad either."  Me, "are you sure?  you know I hate driving in bad weather!!!"  Him, "nope, we might get a little rain, nothing bad, you should be good."  So off to my next stop. 

I remember growing up my mother use to always tell me...

listen to your gut. 
 

Well on the way to my next store, my gut was telling me to just go home.  But I'm hard headed and my meteorologist of a husband said the weather should be good.  I trusted him and had faith in his opinion.  Once we got inside the store, the gates opened up and it began to pour.  I'm not talking a little rain- I'm talking hurricane rain.  Sooo Brilee and I just kept shopping.  And it kept raining.  Forty minutes went by and it wasn't stopping.  I had two options.. keep shopping or get wet running to the car.  And seeing how Brilee was now crawling over Ultas floor like a dang animal- getting wet it would be. 

Soaked. We were soaked.  Head to toe, drenched.  Then Brilee thought now would be the perfect time to throw a fit because her "dress" aka a shirt was wet.  We sat in my car for another half hour before I was like... just man up Shealee and drive home. 

Yall- my knuckles were white I was holding the wheel so tight.  I just kept praying out loud that God would get us home safely and that the rain would stop.  I'm pretty sure I didn't go over 40mph.  The twenty minute trip home took us almost an hour.  The rain was coming down so hard, the wind was making it worse and the lighting was terrible. Cars were pulling over on the side of the road. The radio was doing that beep beep beep bad weather announcement crap and  I was freaking out!  But I just kept praying that God would get us home safely.   

But then I came to a red light.  And what I saw there... amazed me.

My daughter was in her car seat playing games on my phone.  Not a concern in the world.  And right then it was like a light bulb went off.

FAITH.

She has faith in me.  She TRUST me to take care of her.  She doesn't worry about what the next hour holds, she doesn't worry about what tomorrow will bring.  She lives in the moment and she has FAITH that I will protect, provide, shelter and love her. 

 

The rest of the way home, I kept driving in turtle mode.   My mind was still racing with the fact that Brilee is so quick to trust me and how I'm so quick to trust my husband.... but yet I don't trust my Heavenly Father on a daily basis. 

Why? 

Is it because I can't physically see Him? 

Or is it because I choose not to?

 

My husband is a great man.  He loves me and would die for me, but he is human.  He isn't perfect.  He makes mistakes (especially when it comes to the weather!!) But yet, every day, I choose to trust him. 

I'm Brilees mother.  Every day I wake up and protect her.  I love her more than life.  I would kill for her.   I'm human- I fail at being perfect for her.  She gets hurt, she gets sick, she fails because of me.  But she still loves me.  She still wants me even after I fail her.  She chooses to trust me when she is scared, hurt or sick. 

 

My Heavenly Father hasn't done anything to fail me.  He died for me. 

HE DIED FOR ME!!!!

So why don't I trust Him daily??

 

Yeah, my battle sucks. 

There are days that I feel Gods love and comfort.

Then there are days when I don't.

It isn't because He isn't here. 

I just simply have to trust and have faith.

And when I do...

I FEEL HIM!!!!

 

 

 

 

He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord.

Psalm 112:7

 

 

 



we have a hunter after all

If you met me during or after college, you probably don't think of me as a girly girl. 

Probably because I'm far from being a girly girl. 

The thought of putting make-up on and fixing my hair daily... just doesn't sound appealing.

The thought of dressing up sounds even worse.

But I wouldn't say I'm a country girl either.

I mean, hunting (every now and then) is okay.  Fishing is alright.  Camping, if there is electricity is fine. 

Give me a book, a pair of chucks, jeans and a t-shirt..

now that's me.

Simple.

 But if you knew me in my younger days...

then you know if you looked up "girly girl" in the dictionary

you found ME!!!

Paislee, my niece, is nothing compared to how I use to be.
 

 

My family loves telling stories about me stuffing my shirt so I could have boobies at the young age of like four. 

Playing dress up, acting like I was a mom, wearing make-up, having my hair done were just some of the things I use to love to do.

Matter of fact, I use to embarrass my mom by telling strangers they didn't match.

Around fourth grade, my mother taught me how to iron because she couldn't iron my clothes the right way.

Now, I don't even know what an iron is!!!!

 

Kinda like the picture my sister posted on facebook a few days ago..

the bigger the hair the closer to God.

That was my outlook on life when I was young.

And even though now I'm not girly....

I always figured my daughter would be.

I mean, that's how I was at one point.

WRONG!!!

My daughter is straight up country.
 

There is nothing girly, princess, glittery, sweet and soft about her.

She is rough, tough, and 100% tomboy.

 

Example.

The other night she was taking a bath and obviously had some gas.

What happens when you toot in the bathtub?

It makes bubbles.

Well, she thought that was the funniest thing ever.

I didn't act like it was a big deal because I'm sure all 2 year olds think it's funny. 

But then she said...

"mother (yes she calls me mother...) I farted."

I ignored her.

"mother, I farted and bubbles came out."

ignoring.

"mother, I FARTED and LIKED it."

what the hell????

Another example.

Today was such a pretty day so I figured I would take her to the park.

She loves the park!

After the park we went and got some ice-cream.

Then on the way home I needed to run by the store to grab some stuff for dinner.

I told her that she could pick out one prize, any prize she wanted.

We saw dolls, play jewelry and clothes, stickers, make-up, etc.

No, she grabbed the pop gun!

I said..

"you sure you want the gun?"

Her reply..

"I shoot deer!!!"

Needless to say, we got the gun.

 

 

 

birth story part 2

The moment I heard your cry, my life changed.

No other words could come close to describe that moment.

It simply changed.

 

 

  You were so little (much smaller than what the doctor predicted)

 and had this nasty stuff all over you,

but you were so perfect.

You had a tiny amount of hair, but I remember my first words were

"she has hair!!!!"

 

Your cry sounded like a dying donkey,

but it was the most beautiful sound in the world!

I remember just looking at you and smiling. 

I don't remember what I was exactly thinking...

but I know I was in all of you.

 

The moment they placed you on my chest,

I realized my heart was no longer inside of me.

It was in your tiny little hands.

 

 

I couldn't stop looking at you! 

You were absolutely the prettiest thing I had ever seen.

 

One of my favorite memories of the first minutes of your new life

was smelling your baby breath.

Call me weird, but it was the sweetest smell.

A smell I will never forget.

Your skin was so wrinkly and soft.

It felt like nothing I have ever felt before.

Your fingers and toes.. perfection!

Everything about your 7lb self was perfect.

 

At one point the nurse asked me if I wanted to let people start coming back.  I simply said no.  I wanted all the time to myself with you.  All I would let her tell the family in the waiting room was that you were born and we were okay.  I just needed time with you. 

Time to hold you.

Time to love on you.

Time to look you over from head to toe.

Time to thank God for you.

Before long though, your GG busted up in there. 

She had waited long enough and if it meant taking down the nurse, she was coming back there to check on us. 

Sharing you with friends and family sucked.

All I wanted was you in my arms and a freakin sandwich.

 

 

That night everyone told me to let you go back to the nursery so I could sleep.  

That didn't happen!!!

I held you all night long.

Literally!

 

We also gave breastfeeding a go that night.

You were stubborn from day one.

You were determined not to latch on.

And I was determined to make you.

It was a long night, but a great night.

 

 

Then morning came and I had to share you again.

I loved seeing all my friends and family love on you.

You were so content letting them pass you around.

Every second I fell in deep love with you.

You, my child, changed me.

It didn't take a day, or a few weeks.

It took one second.

 

You showed me the meaning of love.

Of unconditional love.

You showed me what life was all about.

You gave me a purpose to live.

Hope.

You made me a better person.

A stronger person.

You made me a MOM!

And that's something I will cherish until my last breath.

 

 

Brilee Paige, my world is simply you. 

January 19th, 2012 made me who I am.

There is no greater love than the love I have for you.

Thank you for loving me.

And thank you God for blessing me with this day.

A day that changed me.

 

 

 

 

the birth story...

of my beautiful Brilee!!!

 

 

Please know that this post is going to be raw.  I have no plans of going back and editing it.  What I write, is what you get.  This story is dear to my heart and I want to write everything down that I remember.  I hope one day, my precious little girl, will be able to look back at this and know how much she changed my life.

 

 

And let me state this fact real quick.  I had two fears at the end of my pregnancy.  Going into labor with unshaved legs and my hair looking like mufasa.  So for the last month, I literally shaved my legs every morning and fixed my hair.

With that being said, January 19th, 2012 started out normal. 

I was miserable, grouchy and fat.

I wanted Brilee out immediately- especially since for the last 3 weeks I was dilated to a 2 and nothing else was changing. 

So while I got out of bed, way too early, for my doctors appointment... I was silently praying that my doctor would say she would induce next week if nothing had changed at this appointment.

Knowing she probably wouldn't just pissed me off more.  

I was done!!! 

Sick of shaving my legs daily, fixing my hair and putting makeup on.  I was going to this appointment in yoga pants, a t-shirt and curly wild hair. 

 

After I was finally called back into the room, my doctor came in to measure my belly.  In the past, she would always measure it once and write something down.  Not this time.  This time she measured it, looked at my file, measured it again, looked at my file, measured it again and then said...

"Shealee, this whole pregnancy your belly has been a head or behind by a week, but today your belly is only measuring at 32 weeks.  We need to do an ultrasound immediately."

WTF!

 

Trying to stay calm, I went into the other room.  She began the hour long ultrasound and watched Brilee very carefully.  She clicked on things, did measurements and listened to her beautiful little heartbeat for ever.  Then she said the next scariest thing ever... "are you ready to have a baby today?"  Umm... if you had asked me two hours ago, yes I was ready.  But now that she just said "baby... today..."  I'm not so sure!!!! 

She went on to say that my amniotic fluid was extremely low and it was no longer safe to keep Brilee inside of me.  It was time for her to come out. 

 

FREAK OUT MOMEMT!!!!

For one, I was at this doctors appointment alone.

Secondly, my mother was 30 minutes away.

Third thing, I didn't have any of my bags ready.

And lastly, my legs weren't shaved nor was my hair fixed.

(yes, I realize none of those facts said "I'm about to be a mom")

 

After having a mini panic attack, I called my mom.  Once again, she isn't the person to call when you are freaking out- she doesn't help the case.  But she told me she would leave work as soon as she could, go grab my bags and head this way... and that I needed to call my dad to come meet me.  So after hanging up, I called my dad.  After briefly telling him what was going on and that I needed him, I still had an hour before I had to be at the hospital.  So what do you do before you have to be admitted into Labor and Delivery?  You go eat!!!!!  So I met my dad at subway.

 

At subway, I could barely sit still.  I was a nervous wreck.  My dad, who is a lot like my sister, is normally very calm and doesn't worry about anything.  He was doing a great job of calming me down and reassuring me that all was going to be okay. 

Once we got to the hospital and they started the IV, my nerves started to calm down.  I had contacted everyone letting them know what was going on and eventually people started coming in to see me.  The contractions weren't bad at all at first.  I was sitting up and enjoying the company of friends and family and laughing at the fact that by now my sister was already begging for an epidural.  (I was determined not to get one!) 

 

Then around 5:00pm my doctor came in.  She said I was progressing nicely, but she wanted a baby by 9:00pm.  So she (no lie) put her whole arm up me and did something I wouldn't wish on my enemy.  I'm still not certain what she did, but whatever it was, the contractions started.  Oh, did they start.  Within the next hour, I went from laughing and talking to holding the bedrail and giving everyone the evil eye.  At this point, I was begging for an epidural. 

Finally, they came to give me one!!  

But it wasn't 10 minutes after they gave it to me that I had the urge to use the restroom.  Matter of fact, it happened so fast that the man who gave me the epidural, was still in the room!  So the nurse checked me and confirmed that I was fully dilated and ready.  Only thing was... the epidural wasn't fully working and my doctor was 15 minutes away.  

Again... WTF!!!

 

That was the longest 15 minutes of my life.  Having the urge to push and them not letting you is hell on earth.  But when my doctor walked into that room and said "you ready?"  I thought I saw and heard God.  Yes, I was ready!!!!! 

 

7 contractions later....

I did hear the most precious sound ever.

My daughter crying!!!!

Earth stood still.

Time froze.

My life changed.

My heart was now in the hands of a 7lb 19" long angel. 

 

 

 

 

 

.....stay tuned for the 2nd part.....

 

 

 

 

understatement of the century.

I suppose I should have added this to my random fact blog yesterday, but my sister and dear friend encouraged that I make a blog specifically for this fact. 

 

To say I am paranoid and a hypochondriac... would be the biggest understatement of the century.  Like really!

 

I refuse to watch a movie if it even looks like it could be scary.  If a preview of a horror film comes on the channel I'm watching, I switch channels.  I won't even let my husband watch some action movies because it freaks me out. 

My sister just recently asked for volunteers to read certain books for her. Being the great sister that I am, I volunteered, but immediately sent her a text saying... "text me the list first- I want the less horror/scifi one!" 

 

I just can't handle it.  If I read it, it some how gets into my brain and stays there.  I will think so much into it that I know for certain it's going to happen to me.  If I see it on TV, I am DONE FOR!!!  I literally freak myself out.

 

Not to long ago my husband had to leave for a few nights on a business trip.  (I married him because he promised he doesn't travel with work....)  A month before he left, I was trying to talk him into letting me go with him.  Then the week before he left, I was making plans to stay with my in laws.  No way in heck was I staying here by myself.  But some how my wonderful husband talked me into it.  The day he left, he took me outside and went over how to use all the guns... my request.  Right before it started getting dark I turned on all the lights.  I was about to cook Brilee supper when our lights went out.  What the heck?!?!?  It wasn't raining.  The wind wasn't blowing.  Why were our lights out?  Immediately, they came back on.  Then immediately went back off.  By now it is dark outside.  I'm freaking the heck out!!!!  Instead of thinking logically and knowing it probably was just nothing (our lights go out all the time with no reason!!!) I start thinking.. "oh my gosh- some one is about to kill us."  No lie, that was my thought.  In a state of panic, I grab Brilee, go to my bedroom and call my mom.  If you know her, you know that didn't help the situation.  She kept saying things like.. "look out your window to see if your neighbors have lights."  WHY should I do that mom??  "Shealee, you need to make sure you aren't the only ones without lights.. someone could be outside your house!!!"  DONE FOR!!!!!  Thankfully, ten minutes later, our electricity came back on and a great friend stopped by to check everything out.  Needless to say, it took three big gulps of Nyquil to knock me out that night before I could sleep. 

 

You see, even though I know there aren't monsters and the likely hood of someone coming to my house to kill me is small- it still freaks me out.  I know our ice machine makes horrible noises, but I can't help but think "someone is breaking into our house."  Or when the back bathroom starts running because something is broke and my husband keeps promising to "fix" it and hasn't yet, I think... "someone is in here."  I'm not ashamed to say that I am known to sit in my car for a good thirty minutes or so until John Scott makes it home because I didn't keep a light on and there is no way I'm going into that house. 

Yes, I am paranoid. 

 

 

Then the whole hypochondriac thing comes into play.

I still haven't made my mind up if I am or not.  I mean, I guess I am, but I think it's only because my family has drilled that into my head.

Yeah, I realize I always assume the worst.  But 90% of the time- I am right.

 

Like when I told my mother I broke my foot by just walking.  I was right.

When I was deathly ill for three whole days telling them I had an appendicitis.  Yep, I was correct again. 

Oh, and then that one time in college when I told them I was pretty sure I had the bird flu. Guess what.. I had it. 

So maybe I am a little bit of a hypochondriac, but hello, I'm normally right.

 

Once in a blue moon am I ever wrong. 

And since I'm not a hot head, I will explain some of the times when I am wrong.

 

This week I have felt like death.  No lie!  Terrible sore throat, snotty, sneezing, coughing, body aches.. the works.  I have been in bed since Wednesday.  I literally would wake up, go to the couch, eat vitamin c like candy and be in bed by 3:00pm.  My husband was convinced I had the flu, but I was convinced it was just the common cold. 

Then last night I noticed the right side of my neck, right below my jaw line, was swollen.  It was so tender to touch.  I immediately thought... "oh my god I have the freakin mumps!!!"  So of course, I google the symptoms.  Fever, check.  Headache, check.  Swollen neck, check.  Yep- its official, I have the mumps. 

I text my sister and Tyler and told them.  Aubree ignored it.  Tyler busted out laughing and told me it was probably my tonsils or lymph node.  Could she be right?  Probably.  But I just knew I had the mumps. 

So today I went to the urgent doctor.  When he asked what was going on, I simply stated... "I'm pretty sure I have the mumps."  He simply stated... "I'm pretty positive you don't..."  Needless to say, my husband and Tyler were correct.  I have the flu and a secondary infection in my lymph nodes. 

 

 

 

So, now that you all know that I am a freak... I will end this blog. 

But just a warning- if you are freaking out over a situation or need someone to reassure you that you are in fact okay, don't call me.  I probably won't be much help.  

want to know me?

While being my productive lazy self this morning, I ran across my friends blog post. 

It was a simple blog that stated 5 random facts. 

I enjoyed reading it!!!

So for your Friday pleasure...

I'm going to give you a few random facts about me.

Facts that I normally just don't share unless you know me very well.

You ready??

 

 

 

1.  I am hopelessly addicted to Dr. Peppers. 

When I say I could drink 4 cans a day- that is no lie.  I could probably drink a 12 pack but I just simply refuse.  The last 2 weeks I have limited my self to 1 a day.  It's killing me.

 

2.  Biggest pet peeve? 

ugh- I have a few!!!

Not being able to breathe out of my nose! I'm pretty sure I would rather have strep throat than my nose being stopped up.  I get this from my dad and sister.

The next one is probably a tie between my husband not shutting the cabinet doors shut all the way or when the grocery sacker doesn't organize my groceries like they should be.  (that alone deserves a blog post!!!)

 

3.  I'm a witch- with a capital B- 98% of the time

Yes, I realize I just called myself the B word, but it is true.  I love helping others.  I love being there for people.  I would give the shirt off my back to a homeless person.  But I don't put up with crap.  If you piss me off, you will know it.  My sister has always been the person who lets things go and never says a word.  No, not me.  I will let you know exactly what I'm thinking..

 

4.  I love awkward people.

Maybe its because I'm awkward?  I don't know.  But either way.. I love being around awkward people.  They literally crack me up! 

 

5.  I live my life around the bathroom. 

Literally. 

 

6.  Just in the past 2 months have I found out that I can't have gluten.

Which explains why I live my life in the bathroom.

and eventually I will blog about this experience.

 

7.  Every morning I read a daily devotional. 

It amazes me how it is exactly what I need to hear for the day. It's a free app called Jesus Calling.  I highly recommend it.  It is quick, to the point and inspirational. 

 

8.  I hate working out.

Like really hate working out. Probably why I make every excuse not to do it like I should. I rather eat a cheeseburger...

 

9.  I have always wanted to adopt a child.

Rather it be an infant or a teenager, I don't care.  If my husband would allow it and we could afford it.. my house would be full of kids who needed a home.  They are just kids.  They can't help the life that their parents chose.

 

10.  Books! 

I love books!!!  Reading is the only hobby I have. 

 

 

 

 

 

There you have it folks.  10 random facts about me :)

 

 

 



ironman

I realize my last few post have been more on the serious side.  Please just bare with me, I do have some that aren't so black or white for the near future.

 

But today is a special day!  So even though this blog might bring tears to my eyes- I'm going to try to keep it enjoyable... because that is exactly what he was.

Enjoyable!

 

 

Once in a blue moon you meet someone who changes your life.  Rather it's a friend you met some where, a child you gave birth to, a spouse, or a person you decided to love like family even though there is no blood connecting you. 

I've been blessed with all of the above!  I have a handful of friends that help me survive each day.  I have a child that teaches me daily.  A husband that deals with my mood swings, loves me dearly and forgives.  And I have a granpa who showed me that blood doesn't make you family. 

 

 

Papa Bill was the loudest, most annoying, aggravating man on this earth.  He could literally make me cuss and laugh until I cried within seconds.  He had no clue what gentle meant.  When he hugged you, you would realize that.  He never missed a basketball game or cross-country meet.  He was actually that big guy who ran along the side of the finish line cheering us on!!!  On Christmas Day, you could guarantee there would be a box of chocolate (gag me, terrible, disgusting!!!!) covered cherries in our stocking.  He always thought we loved those things.  I loathe them!!!!!! 

He wasn't perfect.  Actually, he complained all the time.  He was slightly OCD.  If you picked up a picture frame in the house, he was behind you putting it back in its exact spot.  He snored like a grizzly bear.  Lived off of bluebell ice-cream.  WWE or whatever it's called, was something he watched all the time.  He drove my grandmother NUTS!!!!  Heck, he drove us all nuts.  He couldn't wait to embarrass us and waited for the right moment to do exactly that. 

 

Papa Bill was... well there truly aren't words to say what he was.  If you met him, you know what I mean.  Words could never describe that man!  But for those who never got the chance to meet him.. one word sums him up.

He was our IRONMAN!!!!! 

 

You see, Papa Bill, he wasn't our grandpa by blood. 

He chose to be our grandpa.

And because of that- I love him even more!!!!

 

He could have walked away and never looked back.  He could have married my grandmother and never had anything to do with us.  But no.  He loved us.  He cherished us.  We were his pride and joy! 

 

Papa Bill taught me many things in the 21 years I had with him.  He gave me great advice when it was much needed.  But the best advice he never knew he gave me was what true love was. 

 

 

It's been four years since I last saw him.  Four years of celebrating his birthday without him.  Four years of missing my grandpa.  Four years of wishing he could see me and everything I have accomplished, failed at and tried. 

 

If I could have him back for just one day....

I would tell him how much he truly means to me!  I would let him hug me however tight he wanted to without complaining that he was smothering me.  I would tell him why one relationship didn't work out, but that he shouldn't worry because I met the man of my dreams.  I would brag about how my beautiful daughter drives me absolutely crazy most of the time.  Every detail of my wedding would be explained.  I would tell him that most of the time I'm not sure I deserve this life that God has blessed me with and then soak up his words of advice and encouragement.  I would sit and eat a tub of bluebell with him.  Heck, I would even take him to the boats for a an hour or two.  But besides kissing his bald head until he had to leave again.. I would tell him that the love he gave me my entire life was exactly what I needed. 

 

 

I love you Papa Bill.  Not a day goes by that I don't miss you.  I know you are in heaven dancing with Jesus.  (please don't bust out your famous hand moves you did while driving!!!)  What a wonderful birthday you must be having- I'm slightly jealous :)