After day two of no communication from an earlier text I had sent, I thought it was odd. When day three arrived without a response, I started to become concerned. I reached out to one of her friends; they had also not heard a word in a few days. That’s when I started to really worry; especially after her friend thought I should call the consulate……”What?”

As the holiday season begins, it reminds us to stop and give thanks for our blessings. Even though I have a daily gratitude practice, I don’t always take time to let others know how special they are to me.

Before surgery, one of my sweet girlfriends reminded me it was just as important to let people help me, as it was to help others. It’s a circle of love and friendship that needs to be equally fed. So, that’s what I’ve been doing…..letting go, and allowing to be loved and cared for by others.

During my first couple of days of recovery, I had to plan out most of my moves. My son and I thought doubling my steps each day would be a workable goal. Day one I was moving so slow that my Fitbit didn’t even register my steps and doubling that on day two was a cinch…..HA! Getting from the bed to the chair took effort, and I didn’t realize how much I normally do on auto-pilot, without a thought.

I would say that from the outside exterior, my son is definitely a man’s man, but I know on the inside, his heart is tender. He is the one I would want to have on my team for survival or competition. He can MacGyver just about anything if it doesn’t have to do with a computer or electronics. He has little use for those, but if he did, he’d figure it out. He’s a nature loving, risk taking, adventure seeking, hard working, young man that once was a mama’s boy, but has since turned into a self-made man.

My children have taught me so much over the years about being brave. Even though both children show bravery on a regular basis, my post this week will focus on my daughter’s latest adventure, and how her courage amazes me everyday.

As we both hopped out of the vehicle and unloaded the luggage, we wanted to take a quick selfie together to capture the moment. Two months earlier we did the same thing when she left for her Canadian adventure. However, this time she went all the way to the curb instead of standing behind the vehicle. I questioned her, but followed the extra feet toward the curb; we smiled and clicked.

I am a hopeless romantic at heart, and adore a good love story. I was able to be part of the incredible journey my niece and her recently married, husband Broc shared with their families over the last two years. Their romance blossomed quickly, and both knew they were meant to be together. Although they lived many miles from most of their tribe, they wanted to include everyone in their love story.

My brother and sister-in-law were blessed to have the first grand baby in the family. This tiny, beautiful, baby girl was given the name, Chanel Alexandra; it suited her to a tee. She looked like a precious baby doll, and everyone instantly fell in love with her, including me.

Spending time along the coast of California with my family, was a dream come true. It was a chance to spend time together, creating memories and having fun. Amazingly enough, my siblings plus my Mom and Dad were able to make the trip. One of my brother’s daughter, lives and planned her wedding in northern California.

First stop was Pride Mountain Vineyards. The drive alone was spectacular, hills and valleys around every curve. Upon arrival we were greeted by our host, Paul, and within a short time handed each person a glass of wine, then started the tour. There was a couple celebrating their first wedding anniversary, and a woman celebrating her birthday.

As my daughter gets ready to head to Canada for a summer internship program, she has been busy this week spending time with her friends. They travel in packs to each other’s apartments, homes, restaurants, stores and such. Recently, some have been over helping her pack, providing advice and encouragement, as well as just hanging out together. Usually I am in a different room, but can usually hear them laughing and chatting from anywhere in the house. It’s like music to my ears.

During my daughter’s senior year of college she applied for several domestic and international internships. She received her degree in Biology and has always dreamed of having a career working with animals. Fortunately for her, and not so fortunate for me, she was awarded her number one choice, Brazil. With all the talk of crime, human trafficking, and the Zika virus alert, I was less than enthusiastic about the news. She was also awarded another internship in British Columbia, Canada, that I was excited for her opportunity.

Each year, I look forward to the second Sunday in May to celebrate Mother’s Day. Not only to honor my beautiful Mom, but to spend time with my children. Usually, there aren’t any issues with scheduling, but this year was an exception. My daughter needed to head back to college shortly after my son arrived home from out of town. We were only able to spend about an hour together that was consumed in pandemonium; not quite the picture I had in my head of the perfect “Mother’s Day”….HA.

We hope as parents that our positive actions, attitudes, and beliefs rub off on our children. We teach and guide them in the best way we know how, and are hopeful those positive examples become some their own actions, attitudes and beliefs. I was recently reminded how impactful positive impressions have on people outside the family circle as well.

When my daughter was a junior in high school she came to me and said she wanted to be the kicker for the varsity football team. I chuckled and basically brushed the idea aside. She was an excellent soccer player which gave her a definite advantage, however, I ignored her statement and assumed it was a passing whim. Her junior year came and went without any other conversations, and I didn’t give it a second thought.

Another favorite time was the birth of our spring lambs. The soft and wobbly new born lambs would capture our hearts. They would run, jump and play while their moms fed. Each year there would always be one or two lambs that would need to be bottle fed. What a wonderful learning experience that was for my children.

I am not really sure how it all began, but years earlier he would come home hungry, and couldn’t wait for dinner to be ready. He would impatiently stand next to me willing the meal to be done, which clearly made the process quicker……not. His impatience morphed into helping chop or stir, and eventually into complete meal preparation together.