I have nothing to share. Other than a few unrelated comments and observances...
April 21 - free ice cream cone at your local Ben & Jerry's
April 29 - a scoop for $.31 at Baskin-Robbins
July 11 - free 7oz Slurpee at 7-Eleven
September 24 - a free* ice cream treat at Coldstone Creamery (with a donation to the Make-a-Wish Foundation encouraged)
Do you think my niece will be upset if we're late for the wedding celebrations 'cause we stop at every 7-Eleven on the route?!
So here's the email I just sent my boss:
Wes, Is it too late for me to take Friday off this week? Mom has some dr appts and could use a ride…
I’ll contact my major customers so I can get their orders in by Thursday, if they’re planning any. Unfortunately no one covered for me while I was out sick two Fridays ago, so I’d rather hustle a little before I go and then worry about the little stuff
that comes in over that transom when I get back on Tuesday…
If you go back a few days, you'll see the post this refers to - no one helped my customers while I was out sick and I've been fuming about it ever since. This email is my way of letting my boss know there's a problem, and if I know him, he'll be asking me about it tomorrow... At which point I'll be happy to 'splain!
Tonight we're going to my SIL's for dessert. Mom's coming so she'll be the belle of the ball while we're there! Everyone missed her, not just me! Like my SIL said, she's the only mom we all have left!
Anyway, like I said, not much to post about... I found a list of things to blog about when you have nothing to blog about, so here's one:
#11 - a spiritual experience -- When my father was dying, they called me at work on Friday night and said to come to the hospital right then, that he most likely wouldn't last the night. Of course, I took off, flying through the streets as fast as I could. We all went in to see him, one at a time. He hadn't been lucid for a few days. I went in to see him and held his hand. He opened his eyes and looked RIGHT.AT.ME. I told Daddy how much I loved him, that he didn't have to worry about Mommy or P or C, that I'd take care of them, that I'd be there for them, that I loved him and that I was going to miss him every minute of every day. DADDY.WAS.THERE. Looking at me. Understanding me. God gave me my daddy back for that couple of minutes. The daddy who loved me, who told me with his eyes that he understood what I'd said, that he loved me, too. And that man, who'd been bedridden and immobile for such a long time, he picked up his hand, complete with the i.v. and the board it was strapped to - he raised his hand to me. And he looked at me. And he said he loved me. He said it with his eyes, not his voice, but he said it. He was there, right there. What a gift from God. And this is what I think of every time someone says they don't believe in God: Oh, yeah? Well, let me tell you - if there's no such thing as God, who gave me my daddy back that night? And who helped him to hang on until every one of us got to visit with him? And why did every one of us say almost the same thing? That Daddy was there. For us. One last time.