My daughter calls me Dory. She even gave me a small travel-sized tin for cotton swabs because Dory is on the lid. Think back to the adorable movie Finding Nemo.
I fell in love with my husband Brad more than half-my-life ago, yet with twenty-seven years of marriage under our belt, there are still moments that I shake my head and wonder,
Several years ago I bought a box of Cheerios that came with a free children’s book. The little book that came with the O’s had a darling and oh-so-prickly little varmint on the front cover.
After lightning struck and the fire destroyed seventy percent of my home, we rebuilt. Every item seared, soaked and smoked was lifted and sifted. Ashes were removed. All things broken and tattered were excavated and evaluated in pursuit of total renewal and restoration.
Our hotel room had a small balcony that overlooked the swimming pool. Early one lazy vacation morning, I grabbed my journal, Bible, and a fresh cup of coffee then headed to the balcony for some quiet time.
Before our first child was born, my husband and I took a series of classes to prepare us for childbirth. I vividly remember being told by my Lamaze instructor that while in labor,
I was in Illinois. My husband was in North Carolina. I am usually the video girl, but Brad stepped up to film our daughter’s volleyball tournament since I couldn’t be there.
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