Notes to Self...and whoever's listening

Me & Grandpa Bill I met Bill years ago at the church I used to attend.  He and his wife, Vivian, were the sweetest couple around.  Warm, inviting and smiles that spread clear through a room.  I was in the midst of trying new churches so I didn't get to know them very well, but each time I returned to that church, they were the first ones to greet me.  Several years later I returned to the church for a few years.  During that time, I wrote and directed a few plays and Bill was always willing to do whatever he could to be a part.  Such a faithful ham! :)  He would make us laugh every practice. It was during those plays that I drew closer to Bill and Vivian and finally one day shamelessly asked if I could be adopted by them because I didn't have grandparents anymore.  They quickly obliged and became my grandparents. ❤ Fast forward to Christmas of 2016.  I can't remember who called who, but someone reached out and we ended up having d...

Baseball: America's Pastime. And for families across the country, it becomes a constant trek to the ballpark to watch their athlete perform.  Oh, so many treks.  So many innings of practices endured.  So many games to attend.  So many annoying parents to try to ignore.   But, for all the frustrating moments, there are the amazing ones: first hits, great catches, bases stolen (yeah, that sounded weird to me, too!), close plays and the excitement of your athlete's face after accomplishing any of those things. I've grown up in a baseball/softball family.  My parents took us to a bunch of Kansas City Royals games as a kid and even lost my brother at a New York Mets game once!  (No worries, he was found watching people going up and down the escalators!)  When we moved to Rockford, we went to minor league games then my younger siblings started softball through Ken-Rock.  Fast forward several years and some of those siblings had kids who ...

March 17, 2015.  To most, this was just another Saint Patrick's Day.  Most probably don't remember that specific date.  But, I do. That was the date I ended up in the ER with my first and, thankfully only, full blown panic attack.  For weeks leading up to that date, I was finding myself short of breath with a heart racing so fast, I thought I would pass out sometimes.  I would attempt to calm myself by deep breathing and often resorted to putting my hand over my heart and just applying pressure.  And I did a lot of praying. By March 17th, I couldn't take it anymore.  I finally admitted to my mom what I had been going through.  She called her nurse friend who had me go take my blood pressure.  I don't remember the numbers, but they were extremely high and she told me to go in somewhere.   I spent the afternoon and evening in the ER, first hooked up to an EKG to be sure I wasn't having a heart attack.  Nope.  All good....