Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Straight Plagarism

Thank you, God, for miracles both big and small. Thank you for prayer. Thank you for hope. Thank you for love. Thank you for all the right things in this world on this day. Thank you.

From Turner's CarePage:

Day + 27

Four nights sleeping in a thorny patch. Tonight our heads will rest on a pillow of new found hope. Brennan is in REMISSION!!!!!
We are a long way from being out of the woods, but we finally have a path! The scrapes and bruises from trekking through the brambles will make us stronger and confirm our strong belief that a CURE will welcome Brennan home someday.
Our minds are truly weary, through constant fighting with demons along the way. But our hearts have remained strong. When we stumble over the craggy rocks of doubt, all of you are there to pick us up. Our conviction is fed from yours, and now we can rest under the cool shade of tangible hope. Our comfort is even greater knowing that Patrick Chance's is marching along side Brennan, also in remission as confirmed yesterday.
As we resume the journey, we continually offer endless thanks to so many. Thank you, and thank God. As our friends the James from Macon say, "God is good all the time."
Press ON!!!!


Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Why Pack?

Downsizing. There are decisions to be made and in typical Rachel fashion, excel sheets to make. We are taking our lovely 2300 square foot home down to a ha-ha funny 800 square feet. Maybe if I add in the 270 square feet of the $200/month for-rent parking spot, I'll feel better about the 1,070 square feet TOTAL that will be all ours. But, our STUFF! Our valuable, what makes us- US, stuff. Our wedding presents, 88 bowls, and icebox... what do we do with you?

Lamps... going.
Fine china... staying.
Christmas china... staying.
sofa... staying.
dining room table... staying.
chairs... staying.
sheets... going.
Eileen... going.
Sanity... going.

Some days I rock along with my iPod in my ears and the boxes seem to fill themselves with the things that have decorated our life. Other days, I cannot wrap my head around what needs to go and what needs to stay. My decisions become based on, "if it fits in the GO box, it goes. If it fits in the STAY box, it stays." So, my bathroom box has toothpaste, spatulas, and a few pictures and my dining room box has bandaids, lotion, silver platters (because I'll definitely need those), and my toothbrush.

I realized the problem of packing the bathroom box early on. It's a good thing I didn't pack the TP.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Pity Party for one, table in the rear.

I have, selfishly, been neglecting my blog. There is much a-buzz around and I have not had a second to sit down... type.... erase...start over... edit....and type again. I start blogs and then....just stop.

My confession though is simple. I am really, really sad. One foot goes in front of the other and while I want the minutes to fly, I want the days to drag. Sooner than I care to admit, we are going to close the door on this chapter in our lives, on this home.

While some might think it a blessing, our house sold ... in... six... days.

Sidebar: Is your house for sale? Are you thinking about putting your house on the market? Is there any remote chance that you are curious about your house? Call Ross. Call him. Just pick up the phone and call him. Send him an email. There are three guys that know this town's real estate market and there are three guys who will shoot straight and take the time that is needed to make the magnanimous decision that involves five, six, or seven digits. All three have the same last name. Trulock.

Where was I? Right... my pity party. Our house sold and we have to be out in about four weeks. Every room we have painted, every gerbera daisy we planted, every update we made to our little home will now be someone else's gerberas and someone else's walls for their artwork, pictures, and memories. It just puts another nail in the coffin of residency and sets the reminder that time marches forward and stops for no man or sad little girl.

Soon, we will pack up whatever ramshackle apartment we will be living in for the next four months and put *some* of our memories in a U-Haul and head up the road. The rest will be in my brother's attic in boxes marked with the dates and the weather. Those memories will be stuck collecting dust for forty months before we return.

We have great adventures that are in store for the three Cagles. Great times await us in the tiny apartment with bad lighting and cheap carpet somewhere in Augusta while we wrap up Husband's training here. Greatness is in store for us when we head towards the Mason-Dixon line and that cramped, over-priced place we will call home. Absolute Greatness, I say.

I am allowed to be sad. But my pity party ceases when we close our lovely white, window-paned door and let the new owners make their memories on top of ours.

They just needed our good foundation.