Freedom Friday- the freedom to THINK

I love Dr. Gina. If you don't listen to her, you should. Her conservative talk radio show (aired on WYDE 101.1 The Source from 4-7 p.m.) has become a new obsession of mine during my 1.5 hour commute. Every Friday, she has "Freedom Friday" on her show to discuss all things "freedom." Since I have decided that I pretty much want to BE her when I grow up, I think I will have the same Freedom Friday theme on my blog. I have lots of political thoughts in my head, and I have no where to share them... so buckle up. Plus, I figure this will help me blog weekly. It may not always be related to politics.. so don't automatically disregard if you aren't a political junkie like I am. :)

Warning: this post contains my advice on how to read an article and navigate the waters of political discourse. I am no genius on this topic by any means. I do not have degrees or certifications to justify the following advice. Although, I have taken a class or two on political communication and have read a few books on it. I find it fascinating... especially the book I read in one of my classes called "How to lie with statistics." I am quite convinced that 24 hour media (I refuse to call it news anymore) might be the cause of our nation's decline. I am writing to vent, but also because I care, and frankly, I am frustrated at how little my generation seems to know, and more importantly CARE, about what I perceive to be the downfall of our society. You know, the whole "boiling frog syndrome"--"people should make themselves aware of gradual change lest they suffer eventual undesirable consequences." (thank you for putting it so concisely, wikipedia)


Dr. Gina's recent article "Sex, lies and Stupidity" articulates my anger toward the lies being spewed from the left on the "war on women." I am so tired of hearing this birth control debate. In case you have been hiding under a rock, you may want to catch up by reading Melinda Henneberger's article or maybe take a glimpse on the other side. I have seen some of my friends post things like "I will never vote for anyone who wants to take away birth control..." implying Rick Santorum would immediately call for a cease and desist on all manufacturing of contraception. As if he would storm into your homes on a white horse and collect condoms, pills and more and place them in a ginormous pile on the white house lawn and set fire to them at his inauguration party.

Lesson #1 for these "snippet only" readers/listeners. Get the whole story and for the love, please consider your sources.
Lesson #2- Please don't be stupid and fall for everything you hear. I'm not asking you to share my beliefs, but only to THINK CRITICALLY for yourself. There are LOTS of political strategists, pundits, "journalists" who make a nice living crafting stories that they think you will buy. Unfortunately, a lot of people are buying without caring to read the labels these days. Our generation is particularly guilty of requiring immediate gratification and taking the easy way out while we are bombarded by more information than we can possibly process. We are a generation hooked to the microwave, the remote or even worse... the DVR scheduler app on our phones, headlines and news tickers. We have so much information available from every angle. Sure... a lot of good things have come from our many conveniences, but a lot of bad habits are developing as well. Like taking someone being paid (handsomely) for their opinion's word as fact and not caring to read into it.

My simplistic take on this debate-- for what it's worth.

I am NOT against birth control. In fact, I've been a big fan for the past 5 years. That is no secret. I do NOT want to pay for your birth control or anyone else's. Honestly, I dislike paying for mine! Someone saying they do not want to PAY for your birth control does not mean that they want to prevent or restrict your access. This is a FINANCIAL debate, but some people are choosing to make it an EMOTIONAL one because they don't want you to think about the money! We cannot afford Obamacare. PERIOD. Think critically. Do you believe that the left is actually concerned about the morality of this issue? No! If you fall victim to that line of thinking...here is a newsflash: They are USING YOU!!! They over-emotionalize EVERY issue so that YOU will do what they want you to do. Heartstrings are tied tightly around other strings... kind of like a marionette. If anyone tugs enough at issues you care about, you will empty your wallet (or care less when the government does) or take some sort of desired action. It is what it is! In every instance, I would strongly encourage you to sort through the emotion. When all else fails, follow the money trail because that is almost always what every issue is about.

Every time I get on this soap box, I can hear Aaron Tippin singing in the background "You've got to stand for something or you'll fall for anything. You've got to be your own man not a puppet on a string.." Sadly, I don't know who wrote that song or even who first said the quote (seems to be some debate between Alex Hamilton, Malcolm X, Peter Marshall, Ginger Rogers... whoever gets credit, it makes a lot of sense!)

If we do not start standing for freedom, for the Constitution-- then America will fall with us when we take a gigantic tumble. Let's stand up for a balanced budget-- not just the politicians that SAY they want one, but will do nothing about it. Let's stand up for our rights-- those God-given and those outlined in the Constitution! Stand up for America and start educating yourself about candidates that you want leading this country. If we aren't actively standing, then we are going to start actively falling.

Healing

It has been two weeks since Granddaddy died, and I know I am forever changed. If you missed the details of this nightmarish week and wanted to know them, you should check out my sister's log The Ladners' Latest: A Week I'd Like To Forget .

It is kind of weird... I think I am less emotional than ever actually. For instance, this week one of our beloved dogs died in a freak accident that was truly terrible. Before my experience with real loss, I would have been devastated. But when Jefforey called to tell me the news, I barely cried. If you know me, you realize what an amazing feat that is. This is coming from a girl that can fill a bucket of tears from 1 sappy commercial or God forbid I hear a sappy song about Daddies and little girls when I'm alone in my car. But seriously, when Sadie died I was hurt and sad, and I shed a tear or two, but it was not the full scale come-apart I would have expected. Not because I didn't love Sadie...she was a sweet, precious dog, and I adored her, but because it paled in comparison to the hurt I still feel everyday for my granddaddy.

This picture was taken a few months ago after I cut his hair for the first time. He was very concerned about losing his hair-- and he never lost it all. We laughed that he--at 86 after taking chemo for 4 months-- still had more hair than Jefforey does at 28 :)



I think about him every day, but thankfully, it is not just sad thoughts. It is incredible memories, and man... there were plenty to go around. I hit a few in my eulogy, but I am so blessed to have SO many from which to choose. My sister shared many others in her "Remembering a Hero" I am finding that the hardest part is switching my conversations about him to past tense. And of course, my heart flip flops every time my phone rings from their house because it says "Granddaddy's" on my phone. It's the little things, but I'm moving on. Working non-stop has helped keep me distracted, but my heart is completely over-flowing with love and gratitude to the many friends, neighbors and co-workers who have sent kind thoughts, prayers, cards and food our way. I cannot tell you how much comfort you have provided me and my family. I will never be able to thank you enough.

I am humbled and thankful mostly to my Savior. God has revealed Himself to me in a mighty way through this as the Master Healer. Proverbs 4:20-22 says, "My child, be attentive to my words; incline your ear to my sayings. Do not let them escape from your sight; keep them within your heart. For they are life to those who find them, and healing to all their flesh." Amen!


Read more Healing Verses here or in your Bible any time :)

I love my Granddaddy

It is only fitting that this celebration of my Granddaddy's life is happening on a Sunday afternoon. I have spent almost all of the Sunday afternoons of my life with my Granddaddy. He always cooked the most elaborate amazing meals on Sunday afternoons for our family and anyone who wanted to join us. There were times when we would have 30 people from our youth group eating lunch with my Granddaddy after church! Even when he was too sick to stand, and mom or I would bring food over, he would still pull up a chair and cook something for us. There will not be a single day (especially Sundays) that goes by that I will not miss my Granddaddy until I see him again in Heaven. He has touched SO many lives, and it has been a blessing to our family to hear all the kind things everyone has said about him in the past couple of days. I hope he will be able to see now how much he was loved by everyone that knew him. He was incredibly humble, and every time I would tell him how wonderful he was, he was laugh dismissively and say that I must be confusing him with someone else. As long as I can remember (even longer, by what I'm told).. I have always been a "Granddaddy's girl." He always said we had to make up for lost time because when I was born, he had shingles, and he couldn't hold me for several weeks. There are pictures of him looking in the screen door at me when they'd come to visit. They said from the first time he held me, we have been attached at the hip. I am so thankful that I have had 26 years of being loved by one of the greatest men on earth. One of the saddest parts of all of this, and my only "regret" if you can call it that.... is that my children (if God decides to bless me with them one day) will not be able to know and be loved by Granddaddy.

My granddaddy was my real American hero. He dropped out of school in 6th grade to work on his family's farm. (Although, he later used part of his GI bill to go through "continuation school" when he returned from the war.) He was drafted into the Army when he was 18 to fight in World War II. He always said he was "just a poor ole plowboy" from Asbury, but I know better-- he was one of the richest, smartest, bravest men in the world! Until he was drafted, he had never been further than Gadsden, and he had to hitch a ride to Guntersville where his orders had him report to be transported to basic training. My granddaddy is the only person I can remember ever hearing about who actually gained weight during basic training! I can't imagine how scared he must have been headed from the farm across the world. When he was in the Army, he made stops at Fort Benning, Anniston, Kentucky, England, Germany, France and Belgium. Every time it got really cold outside, he would talk about how it was nothing compared to how cold he was around Christmas in 1944 when he was walking and sleeping in the knee-deep snow in Germany. He was great at helping me keep things in perspective, but he never did it in a condescending way. He was wounded in the Battle of the Bulge on January 15, 1945...just 26 days after he officially entered combat. He was only 19 years old when he lost his right eye after being shot off the back of a tank. When he was shot, he had the wherewithal and courage to roll out of the tank tracks to avoid being run over and then follow the medic almost a mile to a safer place. He selflessly served our country and sacrificed so much for all of us... but that was just the beginning of his bravery.

He had a medical history list at least two pages long. He has had so many "scares"-- 3 heart attacks. Open heart surgery, 5 stents, hip replacement, knees, elbows, sinuses and several surgeries on the way to recovery from his eye replacement/reconstruction. He always pulled through it despite the long odds. So naturally, when he was diagnosed with lung cancer in September, we believed that if anyone could beat it, he could. On Wednesday of this week, he was feeling much better than he had been feeling-- probably because he was receiving fluids and nutrition intravenously. He said "I believe I'm going to beat this after all, and then I'll be your poster-child for beating cancer in your 80s." He fought cancer about 7 months enduring malnutrition, dehydration, extreme weakness and nausea. He was a trooper until the very end... always trying to smile and stay positive, at least while I was around.

Of course, his military history is impressive and a huge source of pride for me, but it is NOT the main reason he was my hero. In fact, we rarely, if ever, talked about his service except maybe on the occasional veteran's day school project until his grandson-in-laws came along. He was my hero because he loved more than anyone I have ever known. I have learned so much from him over the years, and I will try to be more like him every day.

He taught me to always think of others before thinking of myself. He always said it was more important for him to make other people happy than to be happy himself, and I know firsthand that he lived that motto every single day. I know because I was usually the beneficiary! He was incredibly thoughtful in big and small ways. He wanted us to believe in ourselves... even as fishermen. He used to love fishing in his pond, and we would go fishing all the time. I thought I was the BEST fisherman on the planet! Little did I know, my confidence was artificially inflated because he went out to his pier every day and fed those fish at the same time that we would be fishing. He did that so the fish would be conditioned to come up and eat so when we had a lure in the water... they would eat that too. Seriously, one time I hadn't even dropped my worm all the way in the water and a fish jumped up and got it! Granddaddy just said I had a special touch :), and I believed him.... until I tried fishing later in life and didn't get a bite all day!

He taught me what to look for in a husband-- someone who gives selflessly and loves unconditionally. He served my Granny (some would call that "spoiled my Granny rotten") for 62 years, and he loved her so much it hurts. He cooked, cleaned, worked in the yard, drove her around delivering Avon. There is nothing he wouldn't do for her. He would cut and peel her an apple every day. He would cut and paint her toenails. I never heard him complain about doing something for her. He showed love by serving her, and boy, does their love story inspire! They met while he was working at a service station, and she was at the telephone company. It was something like love at first sight, and they were engaged 4 weeks after they met, married 2 weeks after that in July 1949. Through his selfless devotion, he taught me to give and love sacrificially, and I hope I can love half as much as he did.

He was a man who sacrificed anything/everything to make those around him happier. One of my favorite stories from the war was about Christmas night. He said that they were given some R&R around an old farmhouse. They were given chocolate bars, and he was so excited to be able to rest and relax and just enjoy some chocolate. Several of the men were wishing wistfully for some hot chocolate, and he overheard them. So he took his time of rest and went down to milk one of the cows, and he melted the chocolate bars in a cup over the fire to give his comrades a special Christmas gift! That is just the kind of man he was... he would rather see others happy than do what he wanted.

He taught me that it is better to give than to receive. Granddaddy was incredibly generous with both time and money. There is nothing that he would not do for me (or anyone for that matter). He would drop what he was doing any time I needed him. I remember in Kindergarten, I had a tough time making the transition of hanging out with my mom or grandparents during the day to full time school. So after about 2 weeks, I would cry every day around nap time until Mrs. Baugh would let me call my Granddaddy to pick me up. Until I could drive, Granddaddy picked me up everyday after school and took me to his house or wherever I had to go. He used to drive that old Aqua Oldsmobile and wear his "taxi driver hat" to pick us up and chauffeur us around town. I loved those afternoons where I would tell him all about my day while eating some special treat he had created just for me. They weren't basic either... always something fun and fancy like pears with whip cream and cherries on top or lime sherbet shakes or really anything I asked for! Not to mention the elaborate lunches or dinners he would cook. When I heard about a 4 course meal, I thought people were skimping because at Granddaddy's house, we sometimes had to have 2 plates to get just sample of everything he would cook for us! When I lived in Auburn or in Birmingham, he would send tubs full of food with me every time I left so my roommates could enjoy his goodies too. He always said he wished he could cook dinner for me everyday, and I wished it too!

And he was always trying to give me money. If I refused (which was almost impossible... he could be very persuasive!), he would just sneak it into my purse or cheerleading bag. I would pick it up and wonder what in the world happened because it would be 10 pounds heavier than when I brought it in the door because he had snuck rolls of quarters into my bag when I wasn't looking. When we needed a car, he gave us his. When we needed help with our down payment for our house, he never questioned it... just gave us what we needed. He was the most generous person I have ever known.

He was a thoughtful, servant-hearted man who loved his family and never held anything back. You never had to wonder how he felt about you. He always told you in word and deed that he loved you. At the hospital, he was so gracious to all of his nurses, and he told several of them that he loved them. On Thursday night, the last time he was awake... he told us to make sure we took $100 out of his drawer and bought all of his nurses at the cancer center and at the hospital some cupcakes, cookies and other treats that he had wanted to make for them, but hadn't had a chance. Some of the last things he said were, "I love you, and I know you love me, and that is all that really matters. I guess I've said all that I have to say!" And he had... he hadn't waited until his death bed either. He had told me how he felt his entire life, and lived a life with no regrets.

I want to be more like him everyday because I believe that he is one of the best examples of Jesus I have ever seen. Every time I told him that, he would be confused saying things like "well I don't even get to go to church any more or I don't know that much about the Bible... I just know that you're supposed to love everybody." I think that just made him an even purer example of Jesus. He was humble, and he understood the things that really matter. I think that our rules and doctrine can sometimes get in the way of loving people like Jesus did. We can even get so caught up in "church" that we miss the big picture. Granddaddy may not have been as "discipled" or educated on doctrine as he would have liked to have been, but he understood the biggest commands of all and lived them 100% of the time. When Jesus was asked the most important of his commandments, in Luke 10:27 "And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.” I have NO doubt that Granddaddy did exactly that, and I am thankful to have a peace and know where Granddaddy is today. We are born sinful and selfish. There is no way, without the guidance of the Holy Spirit, any man could love and serve his fellow man like Granddaddy did.

I have always known that God is Love. My Granddaddy helped me learn how much God must love us in a couple of different ways. God's love is perfect and so amazing. I cannot comprehend it fully with my tiny human mind, but watching Granddaddy suffer (especially during the past week, which is miniscule suffering compared to what he endured) I believe that allowed me to get to know my God a little better, and I'm trying so hard to be grateful for that. God-- divinely sovereign, in charge of ALL things in this life (very unlike me in my silly attempt in the control-freak nature I have!)-- willingly gave His one and only perfect, sinless Son to SUFFER and die. He could have easily changed things and took Jesus off the cross and back into Glory. But he didn't... for us. He could have easily taken away Granddaddy's pain, but he didn't, and I believe he allowed that suffering so we could understand him a little better and get another glimpse of His great love for us. On Tuesday, Granddaddy was told he could not have food or drink by mouth because he could no longer swallow properly, and he was aspirating food/drink into his lungs (causing the pneumonia), and he was struggling to breathe. It is hard to watch someone you love dehydrate, starve and suffocate. But our suffering was nothing new to our Savior. I know I do not have children yet, but I have always been told that as much as you love your parents, your husband, your siblings... you don't know anything about love until you hold your son or daughter. I cannot imagine how much God loved His Son, but I can only compare it to how much I love my Granddaddy, and I know I would have done ANYTHING in my power to end His suffering. God, with every ability to change it, ALLOWED His SON to suffer those same 3 things Granddaddy suffered and then some for a sinful race... for me. So we could have everlasting life united with our Savior. Glory to God. By His grace alone, we will see Granddaddy again one day. By His grace alone, we will get through this suffering and this loss. By His grace alone...

I will never forget the many wonderful memories I have with my Granddaddy-- the beach trips, the countless slumber parties, making play dough, building box houses, baking cookies or singing to him as he took his final breath. I will forever cherish every minute I spent in his loving arms, watching that easy smile, hearing his warm laughter. I am a much better person because of him, and I can only try to live a life that would make him proud. I think he would want his legacy to be one of love and generosity... making others happy. Please know that you were loved by him and take that love and share it with all of those you hold dear before it is too late. Remember that people cannot tell when you think about them... only when you act on those thoughts. Remember how much you were loved by one of the greatest men on earth and go and love everybody as much as you can in his memory.

Grieving Really Stinks

I started this post entitled "Honoring Granddaddy" because I have had every intention of writing his eulogy before he dies so I can read it to him in these last hours, but since I started writing... and realizing how incredibly self-centered I am... I realized how much I needed an opportunity to vent and pour out my heart. I need a chance to openly convey my grief and pain to an anonymous audience (at this moment.. I'm really thankful I don't have "followers" on this blog so I can more or less journal my ramblings for myself).

WARNING: This will probably NOT be a happy post, but I think it's time that I deal with some of these crazy emotions before I shatter. So instead of falling apart like an empty eggshell bashed by a hammer that breaks into tiny, useless pieces, I am attempting to purposefully crack this egg (my heart) and let the goop come out to become something healthy-- I want to make some scrambled eggs or something like that.

This week has easily been the most emotionally difficult week of my life. On Friday, I was working from home when I got a call from my mom who was very worried about Granddaddy. He had collapsed in the bathroom, and we needed to help him get up. I went over ASAP, but I actually followed an ambulance in. He was in worse shape than my mom had thought over the phone, and she'd called 911 when she arrived. The ambulance transported Granddaddy to Marshal Medical North. I am sure they do many things well at this local hospital, and I'm grateful for their service to our community. However, I have not had very good experiences there. Poppa died there, my mom almost died there... it's a scary place for me. But Huntsville was under a tornado warning, and we thought that the ambulance had to take him to the nearest hospital... so we stuck it out in Guntersville/Arab ER. A 1/4 bag of fluids, a chest xray (that could not have been properly reviewed) and a A LONG day of essentially zero help, Granddaddy was released. We beat the weather home, and I thought he was on the upswing. Saturday night, mom called again. She and Dad had gone over to help Granddaddy get off the toilet. He was too weak and sick to get up on his own. Sunday after church, I went to Granddaddy's like I have every Sunday while I have lived in Albertville. When I arrived, I called my sister immediately and told her they better make great time from Pensacola to Albertville or she would not have a chance to see my Granddaddy alive again. We brought him to the ER in Huntsville, and he was admitted. He has pneumonia, thrush, esophagitis. He has such difficulty swallowing (could be side effect of chemo, cancer or a stricture-- they aren't sure) that he has been aspirating a lot of stuff into his lungs. Now, he is NPO, and it is so tough to watch him starve and be thirsty.

Granddaddy was diagnosed with lung cancer in September 2011, and he has been fighting with all his strength against the cancer, the malnutrition, the chemo and physically, mentally and emotionally-challenging combination of all of these things since. My granddaddy is the strongest, bravest, most courageous man alive. He is my hero. This week, I have learned that watching your superman wasting away for months and then slowly suffering with very little hope of survival is one of the biggest challenges my faith has ever seen-- I wouldn't wish this on anyone. But as a silver lining, I am indescribably grateful to have this time with him. I have lived with the regret of things left unsaid with my Poppa. Not that I've ever hidden my emotions, it's not as if I even really struggled expressing my love and gratitude to Poppa, but I had MUCH more on my heart and in my head than what I told him. I WAS NOT THERE when it mattered. I did not visit him in the hospital, and I should have. I learned a very tough lesson-- people cannot tell when you think about them... only when you take action about them. They can't tell how much you love and appreciate them, unless you say the words, send them a card, visit them or DO something.

As I sit in his hospital room for the 2nd night shift in a row (low on sleep, food, emotional fortitude)after hearing (about 20 hours ago) our always and sometimes overly optimistic oncologist say that Granddaddy will likely be with us only another 24-48 hours... I am praising God for the life that this incredible man has led. I am beyond thankful to have the opportunity to spend these last days by his side and tell him how much he means to me. I am able to come to terms with a reality in which my granddaddy is no longer with me. I have literally dreaded this day (or tomorrow or whatever day the Lord finally decides to call Granddaddy home) as long as I can remember. See, my Granddaddy has had several "scares" over the years. So many to the point that every time the phone rings after around 10 p.m., I freak out thinking that something has happened to Granddaddy, but he is a survivor. He has ALWAYS survived despite all odds. Until I experienced the loss of a close family member last February with Poppa, I believed that my granddaddy would be the first to go. And until I learned through that loss how to handle grief, I truly believed I could not survive the loss of my Granddaddy and selfishly prayed that he would live forever! The past few months-- culminating in the past few days specifically-- have been almost unbearable to watch. My once vivacious Granddaddy has diminished from a strong 6'1 heavy frame, to diminished 5'8 or so 120 lb. skin and bone. His eyes that once sparkled with life, love and hope now only dully beg for mercy from Our Creator to take him away from this pain.

I have learned that I go into a really weird production mode when I am grieving for someone I love probably (at least in prideful part) to avoid the "ugly cry" in front of my friends and family. I try to take charge of the stressful/grieving situation probably because I am deflecting the complete loss of control I feel by over-controlling some smaller or more insignificant detail in my life. In this case, I showed off my inner control-freak by keeping a detailed record of the timing of the medications/treatments my granddaddy has been receiving and/or constantly re-organizing and cleaning the living space here at our happy home-away-from-home, the "Huntsville Hospital Hilton Presidential Suite" AKA MST1757. I am trying to figure out why I do this..I think I feel like I have to be strong and be happy no matter what happens because I'm such an emotional person, and I understand that people are influenced by others' emotions. If I'm happy-- I can make others happy. If I'm a basketcase, I will make others a basketcase. I also feel like I have to show that I never waiver in my faith of my Sovereign Savior...It is God's will, and I know it's for the best. I WANT to be as strong as I act, and it's only through God's grace I can do it! But it's almost a "fake it til you make it" moment. I have to act as if I NEVER question His will, which honestly is a bold-faced lie. Who doesn't question God's sovereignty in the face of suffering?! Not I, although I usually try not to admit it-- at least out loud!

Another thing I have learned through all of this mess... How much God must love us. His love is perfect and so amazing. I cannot comprehend it fully with my tiny human mind, but this suffering (or watching Granddaddy suffer, which is suffering to some degree) has allowed me to get to know my God a little better, I think, and I'm trying so hard to be grateful for that. God-- divinely sovereign, in charge of ALL things in this life (very unlike my silly attempt in the control-freak nature I have!)-- willingly gave His one and only perfect, sinless Son to SUFFER and die. Granddaddy cannot have food or drink by mouth and he is struggling to breathe. It is hard to watch someone you love dehydrate, starve and suffocate. But God, with every ability to change it, ALLOWED His SON to suffer these 3 things and then some for a sinful race... for me. So we could have everlasting life united with our Savior. Glory to God. By His grace alone, we will see Granddaddy again one day. By His grace alone, we will get through this suffering and this loss. By His grace alone...