Secret.....

I have a secret to tell.
Actually….not a secret. Calling it a secret makes me feel like it is something that I should be ashamed of. And I’m not.

No way.

In fact, I have told other people this. So, it isn’t a secret. It never was.
So, that secret part…..scratch that.

I am 34 with a husband and an 8 year old daughter and I full on peed my pants.
No lie. 100% flood gates opened, peed until there was not more pee to release, peed my pants.

Want the story?

Here it is.

My family and I went up to Island Park, ID for the 4th of July weekend.
Tye’s family has a cabin up there on the lake and when we get invited, we really like to go. Plus, we had just purchased our camping trailer and wanted to break it in.

On Saturday, the rest of the family and Grace went out on the boat. So, Tye and I decided to shoot our bows. We loaded them in the truck with the target and headed out to find a meadow. We found a perfect spot just off a small dirt road.

Here’s where it all started to go….er get wet….

I think that as soon as my feet touched the ground, it triggered the beginning of some sort of bladder betrayal sensory connector in my body. For real, my feet touched the ground from getting out of the truck and I just went “Holy Cow, I have to pee….NOW”

****This is where some might say “If you aren’t interested in the details that I will be divulging below, skip to the next paragraph”. Well, not me. This is where I will say….If you aren’t interested in the details that I will be divulging below, you may want to stop reading my blog all together….*****

Play by play of Operation Bladder Betrayal-

Get out of the truck
HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THAT CONNECTS TO BODILY FUNCTIONS!!
MUST. PEE. NOW.!
Run over to the other side of the truck, in front of Tye’s open door.
Pants down.
Get in “position”.
Pee….
Tye yells “OH SHOOT!.....”.

Ok, at this point, for 1/8th of a millisecond, I thought that there was a rattlesnake by my butt. Don’t worry, there wasnt.

“What??” I say
Tye- “Here come people towards us…”
Sure enough, I didn’t plan on people coming TOWARDS us.
So, Tye jumps in front of me. Seriously though, they have already seen me in peeing position and peeing.
He yells “Hurry, STOP PEEING…GET UP!!”

HUH?!?!

Ok, tell me, who the hell can stop peeing after they have started? And not just a “tinkle” started, but “the flood gates have opened, release the contents” kind of started. Well, apparently, not me. I cant stop. Its as if my bladder has a mind of its own and it has been waiting for the perfect time to betray me. Or, as if it is not even a part of me at all. Totally independent of me and my body. No. It was more like I wanted someone across the world, in another country....say Laos, to stop peeing. I had no say in it.
Makes no sense, right?

So, there I am, pants up, pee still coming out of me. I gave up. I just accepted that pee was coming out of me at a very high rate and no matter what I (or Tye) thought I should be able to do about it, there was nothing that I could actually do about it. So I embraced it. I wouldn’t say that I actually preferred it. However, once I surrendered, it didn’t suck.

By this time, the riders on the ATVs have seen the show and they were on their way to tell all their family and friends and most likely Facebook about. Im sure someone has it on their blog as well. Well, mystery ATV-ers, you are welcome for the content.

So, Tye turns to me and says “You really peed your pants?” …….I look at him with a look that is somewhere between *Did I suddenly start talking in tongues and you didn’t understand me??* and *If that wasn’t you standing next to me while I peed my pants…WHO WAS IT??”

“YES!” I answer as I slap the back of my wet leg to demonstrate how wet my pants were.
“I look like a just sat in a river…..” I tell him. He looks at me, opens his door and gets something. He hands this “something” to me. It’s a (as in ONE) folded napkin………….

I look at him and say “I don’t need to blow my nose….”
He says “Put it in your underwear, it’ll soak up the pee.”
Really, he thought this was a good idea.

I look at him and say: “Tye, I love you. I really do. You know this. We have been married for 12 years. And maybe you have ever doubted my love for you. Hell, I have ever doubted my love for you. But not on this day. No. On this day I am clear about my love for you. However, right now I am doubting your ability to understand that I JUST PEED MY PANTS!!! I DIDN’T DO AN ACCIDENTAL TINCKLE LIKE I DO WHEN I SNEEZE!!! (Don’t act like you don’t know what I am talking about ladies) Thanks, but this will just melt in my pants and become part of the
wet- mess.”

Most of you, well actually, most PEOPLE, would head back to the cabin at this point.
But really, what would be the point? I would have to figure out how to sit in the truck as to not get the seat wet with my peed-ness. I guess I could have sat in the bed of the truck. Just like our dogs….that pee whenever and where ever they want.

But, I REALLY wanted to shoot my bow. So, I made the decision. No, we will not leave. We will stay and shoot our bows. There was a nice breeze out. I was wearing thin yoga pants. They would dry. They were black, so you couldn’t even tell that I had peed….kinda. So that is what we did. We stayed for about an hour and a half, my pants dried, I shot like crap-ish, lost an arrow and made a memory.

Adult incontinence mishap- 2.

With many more to come…I am positive.

Back in the day... say 1990's, there was an "Apology Line".
It was set up by a very compassionate man named Allan Bridge. Forgiveness was a very important concept and way of life for this man.
He knew that EVERYONE felt sorrow. Even the hardest of criminals that seemed to have no respect for life. Particularly their own.
Mostly, he knew the value in expressing sorrow.

It isn't easy to express sorrow to those that you have hurt.
So, this phone line was set up so those that felt the sorrow, but could not express it to the ones they hurt, could express their sorrow and apologize. All calls, though anonymous, were recorded.
Some might think that is a cowards way out.
Maybe.
But, I think that it was something that he saw as a necessity and was of value. And he moved on it.

I listened to a piece done through NPR called This American Life.
Perhaps you have heard of it.
The program was about Apologies.
It is powerful.

There were 3 different stories in this program. And Allan's was one of them.

One man was sorry for his terrorist acts, riots, fires and bombs that he was responsible for.

Another man was sorry for the abuse he put his elderly and bed-ridden mother through. She was on social security and could not take care of herself. He too, though not elderly and bed-ridden, could not take care of himself. However, this was due to the poor choices he had made in his life.
He needed money.
She needed food and water.
So the bartering began.
She is thirsty and needs a glass of water. Sure. No problem. $5.00
She is hungry and needs a sandwich. Sure. No problem. $10.00
Of coarse, after time, she passes.
And he is left here. Some years later, the sorrow is right where he left it. However, she is not here to apologize to.
The Apology line seems to be his only outlet.

Another man calls.
He is apologizing to his parents and his infant sister.
You see, he killed her.
He was only a child. But he killed her.
He wrapped a plastic bag around her head. She gasped for air. She then turned blue. Then she was still. He was only curious as to what might happen.
With a blue, lifeless child in front of him, he hid the bag and said nothing.
His parents found his sister, dead in her crib.
Autopsy: SIDS

He has NEVER told ANYONE (other than his therapist) what he has carried around his entire life. He, so badly, has wanted to apologize. But how do you do this, years later? How do you tell your parents that their baby didn't "just die"?
How do you tell them that it was because of your doing? Plain and Simple. No other reasons.
Well, he didnt. However, because of this phone line, he was able to voice his sorrow and give it some air. Still, wishing so badly that somehow, his parents were on the other end of the line listening to his confession. His Sorrow. His apology.
But, they werent.

EVERYONE carries sorrow.
What an amazing person Allan Bridge was to recognize this enough and to honor where it lived in him enough, to set up a means for others to express their sorrow. To apologize.


As it seems in most stories like these, there is some irony.

Allan Bridge was active in boating and SCUBA diving. In August of 1995, he was struck by a Jet Skier as he surfaced from diving, and was killed.
The Jet Skier circled around his body once, and then took off.
No one knows who accidentally killed Allan Bridge, the man who believed so deeply in not only apologizing, but forgiveness.

After his death, the Apology Line was shut down. Unfortunately, before the anonymous jet skier, that took Allen Bridges life could make an anonymous call to apologize.



On Saturday night, we received word that my husbands cousin was involved in a very serious auto/pedestrian accident. She was the pedestrian. She was hit by a car, who did not see her, at a rate of 45 miles per hour. She very easily could have been killed. Or worse, sent to a vegetable state.
However, she will be fine. She has some serious injuries and has been in ICU since Saturday, but she will recover.
On Sunday, the driver of the car, his wife and their baby came to see her at the hospital. They apologized. How healing this must have been for Allerie. But probably more so for the driver andhis family.

Embrace your sorrow. Voice it. Dont keep it to yourself.

Apologize.



Alisa

Measuring Time. One Year.

How do you measure time?

Sure, we have calendars and we have clocks.

But how can you REALLY measure time?

For instance, how does one REALLY measure the time span of one year?

At birthdays, or holidays in the past, I would reflect and think “WOW, one year has gone by fast…..and I can hardly think of what has happened in between.”

But this last year, it was measured very differently.

Its one thing to measure time by dates, events and deadlines - but to measure time in such a way that it is compared to how long someone has been gone from your life…..very different.

Today is the day that marks 1 full year with out my brother Brian. He is my brother. He always will be.

It truly is amazing to me how I quantify this last year. I find myself wondering how the last 365 days have past. Yet, they have.

There have been things that have happened since Brian’s death that have had a profound impact on my life. Just as Brian’s death did.

Old relationship....just doing it different now:

There was a relationship that I decided I HAD to fix. A relationship that was actually HARDER to do damaged, than it was to do it fixed. You know how they say it takes more face muscles to frown than it does to smile. Parallel that to a relationship and that is what I was doing. Stupid. So, I fixed what I was doing with it, and now I have someone in my life that I trust and love and most of all, laugh with! Thank you Brian.

New life….

Brian died June 9, 2009. 3 months later on September 9, 2009, his brother Paul Cardall received his long awaited, desperately needed, everyday prayed for, new heart.

I have had people close in my life leave this earth. Both young and old. Both a relief and a tragedy. This is my truth; I don’t know what happens after we leave this earth. But I DO know that though it seems that they have left us, we have not left them. They stay close. Brian is close. And I do believe that Brian worked hard to make sure his brother was able to continue living. I know that Paul’s life was one of the most important things to Brian. How proud Brian must have been when he knew Paul was getting an opportunity at a New Life. Thank you Brian.

September 16^th, 2009

Such an emotional day.

A day that we had all been waiting for. Even if it was while holding our breath.

Bella Aspen Cardall was going to join us. I was elated! I was also very somber.

Some may think, “What a tragedy for Bella not to know her Daddy.” And yes, I understand where that comes from. I have felt the same way at times. But again, this is MY truth; she got some serious one on one time with him for 3 months. Because I know that person that he is, and I know his heart, I know that he took very good care of her. He sent her here with a gift. If you have not ever met Bella, I hope one day you might. She is a wise old soul in a baby’s body.

She is a feeler. She connects. She doesn’t feel like a baby. She is here to watch over her mom and sister. She is such a blessing.

I remember the day that she was born. Anna was simply amazing. It was such an honor for me to be in there with her as Brian handed her off to us to take care of. When she entered this world, there was such a feeling of joy, excitement, but a very reverent peace as well. Thank you Brian.

New Family and new relationships:

I LOVE Brian’s family. The Cardalls are simply AMAZING people. All of them. And where as I may know some of them better than others, I truly feel that they are my family.

You know, I really felt like I lived consciously before Brian died. But what I know now, is that I live more consciously now. And I also know that I still have more conscious living to do. Brians death taught me that.

Since Brian’s death, I feel that I have learned, but also continue to learn how, to be with my relationships. Both with my family, and those that I am not technically related to. There are people that have been in my life that I have created better relationships with. People that have been on the side lines of my life, just waiting for my signal, I have created new relationships with. As well as others that I have found in my life, seemingly on accident, but I know that it is no accident. People that I recognize and honor the connection that we have. People that will always be, in my world, my family. I hope you know who you are.

I have learned that I always want to tell the people that I love, that I love them. Why would I want to assume that they know it? It’s my job to tell them. And, even if they all did know it, why would I not just want to say it? Its easy. And it feels good. Thank you Brian.

THE Relationship:

Who doesn’t want a good marriage? Who gets married to have a miserable marriage?

Well, it seems to be more important than ever to me to have the best marriage that I can. And I think my husband feels the same. I don’t know that it is all because of Brian’s death. But it sure has a lot to do with everything else mentioned above. So, I guess Brian’s death has something to do with that. In addition to that, my desire and consciousness to be a better mom is constantly at the surface. Even though I know I fail many times daily.

I really don’t know if it took Brian’s death for me to learn these lessons. I would like to think that I was/am still capable of learning these lessons and the value in them without losing someone that I love.

But the truth is, we will all go through the pain of losing someone we love. Numerous times. It will happen over and over again. I am doing my best to live my life as such, that when I feel the pain of losing someone again, it is not accompanied with the pain of regret.

Today many people that love Brian will honor him in climbing Mt Olympus. Later, we get to see his infectious smile and authentic laugh, as we watch home videos. Brian, I love you. I miss you daily. I am so grateful for the lessons you continue to teach me. I am so grateful for the man you are. I am so grateful for the father you continue to be to your girls. And the husband you are to Anna.

I promise to live my life in such a manner that I have minimal regrets, and maximum love. We will continue on our daily lives. Fully aware and reminded that you are physically not here, but quietly thankful for the times we are reminded that you are in fact, not gone.

Cheers to you.

Alisa

For Megan

Over a month.

That is how long it has been since I blogged.

Honestly, I didn't think that it mattered much.

But then my fans....well, ok...Fan (singular...not plural) summoned me.

So, here I is.

Events that have happened over the last month.

Grace turned 8.

How on earth do I have an 8 year old?? I still feel 22!

I dont look like I am 22, nor do I move like I am 22. However, I still feel 22.

Grace is turning into such a little adult. She always has been. We didn't raise her talking to her like a child. She never did "Fawdowngoboom" (Fall down and go boom).

But what comes with an 8 year old that is a mini adult is ATT-I-TUDE!!

My land, she is a sassy pants.

She is VERY independent. To the point where she is pretty sure she needs to tell me how to do things.

I sure love her and I dont know what I would do with out her.

I took a girls trip to Oregon.

Yep. Sure did.

My friends Jen and Lindsey said to me one day; "we want to go on a girls trip and we want you to plan it".

So I did. I think with in 6 hours, I told them that we are going to Oregon.

I have ALWAYS wanted to go to the Oregon Coast.

It was well worth the wait (and weight).

So then I thought, "Duh, Sara is on of my favorite-ist people. She needs to come"

My phone call to Sara: "Hey, come to Oregon with us."

Sara: "When?"

Me:" May 6-11"

Sara:"Coo...Just bought my ticket."

Im not kidding, it took that long.

So then there we are at May 6th.

We all get in the car, get to the airport and we are on our way.

We get into Portland and take the shuttle to go get our car.

So our first interaction with an "Oregonian" is with the car rental lady.

It took me about 5 seconds to determine that she purchases a very low grade of crack that is laced with bleach from some hooker in Mexico.

For those that aren't familiar with my humor.....SHES CRAZY!!!

But then she tells me that she is from Washington.....makes sense. :)

(I kid, I kid)

Now don't get me wrong, she is super nice. Just super weird as well.

She REALLY wanted us to get the red mustang or the black chrysler 300.

Listen lady, we aren't P.I.M.P.'s . We are 30 something year old moms with 8 kids between us.

(OK, OK, Jen is responsible for half)

We go with the HHR.

Nothing says "Cougar Prowl" like an HHR.

And there were 4 of us....all on the hunt.....:)

And again..I kid.

But seriously....don't you think that HHR's are driven by cougars or those of the male gender that remain in the closet? (not that there is anything wrong with that)

Annnyyyywwwaaaaayyyyyyy........

We get our car and we are heading out of the parking lot. The attendant takes our "anything wring with this car" sheet. We ask her if there is anything close to go eat...and I am not kidding...she starts going off about 5 different places and how her sister used to date one of the owners of one of the places and how he talked her into wearing red underwear with pink socks and how her friend goes to the other place all the time because she gets cooking tips from the cook.....THAT IS A MONKEY!!!

OK, that isn't true.

BUT she really was too nice to shut up.

Super nice...wanted to answer our question....and would not shut up.

It took about 8 minutes for us to get out of there.

FINALLY we are on our way.

The car was in Lindsey's name. But she wanted me to drive. But we promised the crack head rental car lady that only Lindsey would drive. So we pulled over in a parking lot and I got in the drivers seat.

We were headed into Portland (via Washington with my mad navigating skills.. :) ) to go to Voodoo Donuts. They have the bacon-ater you know.

A maple bar with bacon on it. No lie. And guess what....it is GOOD! And that isn't a lie either.

We get there and we each order like 3 different donuts. I ordered a banana fritter that was as big as my head.

We HAVE to try them all!!

And we do.

And 10 minutes after we leave.....Sara is barfing....

But that didn't slow anything down.

We still had about a 2.5 hour trip to Florence.

It was a great road trip.

Then we get to Florence. We are staying at The Blue Heron Inn.

They boast homey, warm rooms and a gourmet breakfast.

See here, breakfast:

We stayed in a 2 bedroom..room. Well, really, it was a room with a hobbit room attached.

See here: Hobbit Room-

This was the room that Jen and I stayed in. I actually really liked it.

The other part of the room was an actual room with a king sized bed that Lins and Sara slept in.

So we get to our place of rest and we meet the host.

Maurice.

He was a cute, sweet, kinda creepy guy that was about 65 or so.

I have never seen a skinner 65 year old.

He was super nice and super informative.

He came to be VERY fond of us.

Especially Sara.....trouble in a small blonde package...as he would put it.

We have a picture of us with Maurice, but Sara has it.

I am waiting to get those pictures.

I am going to stop writing for now.

I don't want it to be so long that it is boring.

But know this: In the next post there will be.......

High class eating

Riding with Charlie

NAKED AS A JAY BIRD

I hope to have more pictures then.

I bet you cant wait.

-Paranoia in a large cheetah colored package......

Hey, Finished IS finished!!

So, I really enjoyed my weekend.

It started out rough, but ended up pretty dang perfect.

Thursday night:

i forget that i am a mom and that i am responsible for a 7 year old daughter and her dietary needs. We do believe that Grace is lactose intolerant. So, we have been staying away from the cows milk as much as we can.

She was at tumbling, and I was running errands.

I stopped by Smith's and remembered how turned on I get when I pass their Olive bar.

It would be rude of me not to stop by and say hi.

I mean, we do have a pretty intense and intimate history.

So, I said hi.

And then I got some of the caprese salad that they have there.

I head over to get Grace.

We get in the car and she sees that I have the caprese salad.

She LOVES the mozzarella balls. She asked if she could have some, I said yes...and she starts chowing.

About 8 small mozzarella balls later I remember......LACTOSE INTOLERANT!!

HELLO??

Grace, stop eating that.

Well, unfortunately, Grace had to pay for my brain fart.

Later that night....stomach in knots. She couldn't eat anything else.

She went to bed with a very hurty tummy.

Then, she woke up at 430, told me she doesn't feel well, sat Marty Monkey style on my floor, and puked.

Then again.

Then again.

Tye piped up with some very comforting words.....

"Pull her hair back......."

You cant buy advice like that.

I clean up the mess, get her in new clothes, get her back to bed and asleep.

The next morning, she was in no shape at all to go to school.

This is not from Lactose intolerant.

This is the stomach flu.

So I stayed home from work with her.

I had to leave later that night to get to my sister Kristins house.

See, a while back....back when we were obviously less...um, smart...we decided to sign up for the SLC Marathon Bike tour.

Now, 26 miles on a bike....really, not too hard. HOWEVER, when you have to wake up at 4 in the morning to be at the starting line at 530.......it doesn't matter if you are doing it so you can pet puppies and eat crispy cremes, that time of day makes ANYTHING hard.

On my way down to her house, I called Kristin and told her that if it windy in the morning, I AM OUT! I dont have to be a hero. Hell, I dont have to be a mediocre slob.

IM NOT BIKING IN THE WIND!

I swear, I am trying to think of something that I hate as equally as I hate riding against the wind.

I got nuthin.

So, to bed we go at midnight.

And at 1 I get a text from Tye.

Grace's fever has spiked to 103.5

he is threatening her to eat something so that he can give her some motrin.

It worked, cuz they didnt end up at the hospital.

I have never ever experienced 4 am taking forever to come around.

And this was no different.

It sneaks up on you like a little spider, and gives me the same knee jerk reaction.....KILL KILL KILL!!!

But I handled it well.

My friends brother in law was going to ride it with "us".

We call him Herb.

Who is "us" you might ask?

Well, "us" consisted of Me, my sister Kristin, friend Nicky, friend Joni, friend Nancy, and then Herb.

Well, Herb texts me at 430.

"Hey, do you think helmets are required? Will they be selling them there? I forgot mine"

Uh....we arent going to some stinky ass bowling alley where half the income comes from banking on selling socks to morons that forgot that they have to wear some 20 year old nasty, been worn by at least 200 other athletes foot, wart sportin, skin peeling, stinky feet people.....

My test: "yes, helmets required. No, they will not be selling them....."

As we pull out of Kristins neighborhood I tell her what he text and say "Who forgets their helmet..??"

She pauses...

"Wait, wheres mine....?"

yeah, on her table.

She forgets her helmet.

Then I get a call from Joni asking where i am.

She had to head back to her house cuz she too forgot her helmet.....AND her clip on shoes....

Anyway...we get there, we get ready.

We ride to the starting line....WOW, LOTS OF PEOPLE!

So, I decided that we weren't going to start at the back of the line, we were just going to mix in with the others at the front of the line.

Ready

Set

Go!

And we are off.

I brought up the rear...

Im telling you. It was a good thing that we did indeed butt in line in the front.

I would have been DEAD LAST.

Nicky stayed with me the whole time.

Now, dont get me wrong. It isnt like I dont bike.

It isnt like I have no stamina.

I just wasnt as fast as....well, most of them.

But hey, we averaged 17 miles per hour.

We ended in an hour 30.

I am proud.

It felt GREAT!!!

It was such an awesome morning!

After we got to the finish line, we met up with everyone.

We needed to ride trax back up to the U.

Joni and Nancy left. So it was just us four.

As we were waiting for Trax, Herb (who finished first with Kristin out of the 6 of us) asks me (very matter of fact, with no judgment of me or anyone else)

"So did the racers that are handicap pass you?"

NOTE***about 20 minutes after us, they had the cyclists that peddle with their hands rather than their feet, start their race. And they were indeed racing each other....we were not. We were just racing time.

That is who he was talking about. And let me preface this with this....I admire and respect anyone who doesnt let any disability get in their way***END OF NOTE

I look at him, and say...

"So are you asking me if those who started 20 minutes after us that cycle with their hands because they cant with their legs....passed me????"

He looks at me with a blank stare.....

"yes, yes they did..." I say.

But, I was not racing them.

True, if I was racing something, it better have been a lawn gnome. Because there isnt anything or anyone else that I could beat.

However, I was so proud of myself that I wore the medal, that they gave all the finishers, ALL DAY LONG.

I head home, thinking about the nap that I am going to have before Anna and Brian come over.

I get home. And I am welcomed by reality.

Reality that my husband wants to put me to work in the yard.

So, I tell him that I will work in the yard, and then I AM TAKING A NAP!

I work

He works

We both work.

And then I got to meet "My Wall".

The tired wall.

I was trying to pull up some grass with some whoppidy do da tool, and I snapped!

I threw it across the lawn and yelled "I AM DONE!!"

Tye comes over, he shows me how to do pull this grass up.

I tell him "I KNOW HOW TO DO THIS! I DONT WANT TO!!I AM DONE!!!!"

He says "Hey, Im tired too. Grace was sick last night. I didnt get much sleep."

I said- "I went to bed at midnight. Woke up, then asleep, then woke up at 4!!"

He said- "Thats about how much sleep I got too"

Me- "DID YOU RIDE 26 MILES RIGHT AFTER????"

NO!

I win.

I got a hiccup of a nap.

Time to go to the store.

Then Anna and Brian came over with the girls.

I love them.

I love them so freaking much!!

I loved having them at my house.

We had a big ole sleep over.

Then the next day the rest of my siblings came over for brunch.

It was great!!!

The weather was BEAUTIFUL!

Great company, great food, lots of love and fun.

AND, I got a medal.

Not sure how to beat it.

Alisa

Perspective

I think we could all use it.

Not just some of the time, but prally most of the time.

Ok, Ok...I will speak for myself.

I could use it most of the time.

I really do feel that I am conscious most of my waking hours.

By conscious, I mean, doing things on purpose. Not on auto pilot. Remembering other people. Being aware at how my actions may effect others. What others may be working through right now.

Ya know...conscious.

Today I lost my perspective for a moment.

Today is my sweethearts birthday.

My husband Tyler.

He is 34.

We have been married for almost 12 years.

I choose him again and again everyday.

So, he went hunting today. He's gonna shoot us a turkey.

He had to stop by my work to get some stuff out of my car to complete his hunting expedition.

He came in, grabbed my keys and headed outside to my car.

I followed him.

Talked to his two buddies that were going with him.

Hugged him, kissed him and sent him on his way.

About two hours later he calls me...

Me: "Hey"

Tye: BIG SIGH...."hhhheeeeeeyyyyyy"

Me: "Uh Oh, that doesn't sound good...whats up?"

Tye: "no, it isn't good. We stopped in Gunnison to get some stuff and......"

Me: "What? And...WHAT?"

Tye: "I have your Jeep keys in my pocket...."

Me: "WHAT? SON OF A......"

Tye: "I know, I KNOW....I feel terrible. But we can figure this out. You can call the dealership. they can cut a new key from your VIN number....."

Me: SIGGGGHHHHHHHH "I'll call you back. I'm going to call them and see what they can do"

Oh yeah....Gunnison is easily 100 miles south of where I am.

End result of calling the dealership...

Yes, they can make me a new key from my VIN.

BUT

They have to have the vehicle in order to program the key TO the vehicle.

The dealership is literally .25 miles from my work (Where my jeep is)

So, It has to be towed to the dealership. But, the good news is that they DO in fact have a key that they can cut for me.

However, they close in an hour and half.

Call Tye.

Tell him the story and, oh yeah, get his Credit Card number. He's footin the bill for this.

Which, to his credit, he had already offered to and totally felt that it was reasonable.

So, call the towing company, give them the payment info.

**$50.00 to tow it .25 miles...**

Call the dealership, let them know that my Jeep is coming.

Ask sister in law and life saver, Sara .......

"Please take me to get my child and then to the dealership."

She's on it.

Then I grumble a little bit about Tye and his effup.

Then, realize that SL Trib and KSL both were going to run a follow up story about my sister and her husband Brian, who was tragically killed in June.

So, I find the story.

I read it.

Breathe.

Ya know, I remember every single day that Brian is gone.

I remember every single day, how tragically he was taken from us.

I remember every single day that Bella and Ava don't get to grow up with him.

I remember every single day that Bella never met him, while on this earth.

I remember every single day how it felt when my heart was breaking when I got the news that he was gone.

I remember every single day feeling the pain of this tremendous loss for my family and his, but mostly for my sister and my nieces.

And still...even though I remember these things every single day, on days like today, when it is brought back into the light and I read the story.......I still get the wind knocked out of me.

Totally.

So as I am sitting at my desk, reading the story in the tribune about the legal battle that seems to have now begun, I cried.

And then I was nudged.

I can feel it through my body....

"Alisa, get some perspective. You know that Anna would want nothing more, than to know that her husband has her Jeep keys, in his pocket....in Gunnison. But she doesn't get to have that. You do. Get some perspective. And KEEP it."

Speed dial Tye.

No answer, voicemail.

Tearfully I leave him a message that I am not mad. I am not even frustrated. Rather that I am SO grateful.

So grateful that HE has my keys in HIS pocket, as HE is in Gunnison.

Happy Birthday Sweet Husband of mine.

I couldn't love you more.

You are the perfect man for me.

And Brian, thanks for the perspective.

xoxo

Alisa

***There may or may not be words/phrases that may or may not be interpreted as "Strong Language" in this post. Avert your eyes if you are not interested in the MAY OR MAY NOT. And as always...I NEVER recommend reading my blog to the kiddos in place of a bed time story....***

How do you get THAT gig?


Seriously, I wanna know how one get these gigs.....Cuz I need to know where to send my resume.

1- Ever seen the website dickipedia.com?
Well I would LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE to be part of the team that comes up with these definitions.
Really, read it. Crass, and F.U.N.N.Y.!!

2- Who decides what to name a town, or settlement, or city?
Really. How does that work?
I have always wanted to name a town Thong, or Hair Plug..... Come on!! Why not?
I mean, my land! There's already:
Boar Tush, AL.
What about Manley Hot Springs, AK?
Or...Jot Em' Down Store, GA....NO LIE!
Big Beaver Lick, KY ?????

I mean, I get it. There are some towns/cities that were named what they were named, simply for Geographical purposes.
Like...Stump Town, MT
Or Dripping Springs, TX

But Sugar Tit, SC???
REALLY!! I WANT THIS JOB!!


3- Beer taster
Now, I haven't needed to look for a job for quite a few years (knock on wood)
But I KNOW that I never saw an add for BEER TASTER. Cuz I would have applied!!
Now, I don't LOVE beer. But I do appreciate it. Especially since my husband started brewing his own.
It is all very intriguing.

About a year ago, I REALLY wanted to get out of dodge, move to Missoula, MT and open up a bakery.
The premise of my bakery? What ever the hell I wanted.
From day to day. Always different.
The name of the bakery? : "Whatever I Want"
I envisioned it being the place where people came to eat Whatever I Wanted.
They would love it.
They would try things that they have never tried before.
It would be warm.
It would have odds and ends hanging from the ceiling and the walls.
It would be consistently inconsistent.
I would serve hot drinks like Cinnamon Hot cocoa to Hotty Totty's, and everything in between.
But more than coming in for the warm, welcoming ambiance, or the amazing baked goods....people would come just to talk to me.
Actually, what I want is to be the one that decides what is made everyday (mostly because, well, lets be honest...I dont bake very well) have someone else make it, and sit in a big ole comfy chair and a half in the corner of the bakery, and sit and talk to people.
They would come to me with their joys and sorrows.
They would want advice and an ear to bend.
They would poor their guts out, and they would allow that for me as well.
We would cry, laugh, sit in silence, talk about our fears, what we don't want to know, what we already knew, and how we could save the world....starting with our own.

Yeah....How do I get THAT gig?

xoxoxoxo
Alisa