Swimsuit Miracle

At least that's what I'm calling what happened yesterday evening at Target. For the first time in my adult life (the little kiddie suits my mom bought don't count, although they were much cuter) I purchased a swimsuit after trying it on. Let me reiterate, the ONLY swimsuit I tried on. One shot. One purchase.

It's a miracle. Usually I try on hundreds of swimsuits over a two month period only to run out of summer days in which to wear the stupid thing.

I know what some of you are thinking. A swimsuit? This woman hates flip flops and shorts. I know. That's what makes it an even bigger miracle. I loathe swimsuits. If you think baring my feet and legs is tough, exposing upper thighs, my back and (at one time) belly just about put me over the edge. I cringe every time I receive an invite to a pool party.

I don't even believe that if I had the body of Giselle or Halle Berry it would make a bit of difference. Okay, well maybe a little difference. But it's really about the exposure of it all. All that skin.

So, I avoid swimsuit purchases as long as possible. Unfortunately, we have two pool parties this Saturday (shudder). I need a new swimsuit. While at Target yesterday I noticed they were all on clearance. No way I'll find one in that picked-over mess of bikinis and tankinis. But I did. An olive green tankini with burgundy/turquoise stitching around the halter.

Probably not my size...what? My size. No way it'll fit. Head to the disastrous dressing room. It fit. And on sale. About 60% less than what I paid for the last horrendous swimsuit I bought in desperation some three years ago (we were leaving on vacation in less than two days).

I seriously thought about buying a lottery ticket on my way home.

Now the bigger miracle. Actually wearing it to the pool parties on Saturday. Did I hear it might rain? Darn (smile).

Death of a Pop Icon

I knew we would be flooded with videos, old interviews, news images of the "King of Pop" once the news of his death circled the globe. I admit, I am not a fan of the Michael Jackson of the past two decades and his controversial lifestyle, his misguided plastic surgery, his all-around weirdness.

But, I do respect the talent of the man, and especially the young Michael. When I think of Michael Jackson, I don't think of the oversized black sunglasses, bleached skin, the Diana-Ross-like features. Nor do I think of the music of Bad, and whatever followed, although I do take pause and listen when I hear "We are the World," and "Man in the Mirror." And I can always groove to "Always Be Startin' Something."

I recall sitting cross-legged on the living room floor watching the "Going Back to Indiana" TV special. Shortly after this special, my parents bought me two Jackson 5 albums, ABC and Going Back to Indiana.

I wanted to dance like the Jacksons. So smooth, so rthymic. And when "Off the Wall" was released, I bought one of the first copies at David's, the old department store in Sweetbriar. This Michael Jackson is reminiscent of my grade school and middle school days. This is the Michael I remember today. Not the obviously disturbed and silently tortured soul of that shell of a man.

And so, I include a segment from that long ago television show. My heart goes out to his family and close friends who knew the real Michael. This is the talent I mourn.

The Beat Goes On...

...the Business Beat that is.

Last night my husband's new business was featured on KSN and Don Grant's Business Beat. Last week Mr. Grant phoned Brad and asked if he and his videographer could come out and film him on a job. Familiar with the Business Beat, Brad agreed. What better way to get the word out then to be featured on the segment. Great advertising and publicity. Did I mention free?

Although Brad tried to play off last night that he wasn't nervous (just tired), I could tell he was a little anxious for the segment. Not having previewed, we didn't know what to expect. We were very pleased.

The video was great, Don's dialogue and description of Brad's business was exactly what Brad hoped, and Brad did not come off as a goof ball, which was a possibility.

Now, for his phone to begin ringing off the hook and the business to start rolling in. Hopefully.  Check his TV debut online at KSN:

http://www.ksn.com/content/news/businessbeat/default.aspx

Mi Padre

Yesterday was Father's Day, the day we show our appreciation and love for the man who brought us into this world, raised us, praised us, scolded us, and despite all of our mistakes and missteps still loves us unconditionally.

I consider myself truly blessed. My father had been such a foundation for the woman I am. He is kind, patient, compassionate and filled with a quiet strength. He taught me how to dribble a basketball and work on my jump shot, hit a baseball, throw a football, and putt. He also taught me to be patient with others (something that still needs work), to remember those that are less fortunate, and to put family first, always.

Because he is such an honorable man, I try not to wait for that one day of year to thank him for all that he has given me, all that he sacrificed when we were young. I want him to know how truly grateful I am that he is my father, mi padre. For him, every day should be Father's Day.

Four Funerals and No Wedding

This week I will have attended four funerals since Easter. Four. That seems like a large number. One incredible lady, one patriarch, one man barely in the midst of his life, and a young man just beginning his life full of promise.

There were also the two just before Easter. Those were the funerals of friends of WSU, women I hardly knew, women I wish I'd known better. In my job I work with families who establish memorials in honor of their loved ones. Many say they couldn't do my job. Many ask me what I say to these families, how do I handle their grief.

I say to them what I remember wanting to hear as I dealt with my own grief over the loss of Andrea. I handle their grief by listening, praying, and crying with them.  My job was never more clear to me than after Andrea's death, like a whisper "yes, this is why I do what I do."

And this is what I take with me to the funerals of close friends, relatives, loved ones. My grief. Not as painful, not as forceful, but always there. Someone told me you never stop grieving, you just learn to live with the grief. I am living with mine.

I came across this quote this morning just after reading Daniel's obituary:

If you learn from your suffering, and really come to
understand the lesson you were taught,
you might be able to help someone else
who's now in the phase you may have just completed.
Maybe that's what it's all about after all...

I know that I have not truly learned the entire lesson, that I have much more to learn. But what I have understood, what I have learned, I carry within me each day on my visits to families, during phone calls to families, to funerals of those I love, and grave sites of those I wish I'd loved more. I don't pretend to grieve the same, as each loss is different. I will never know your personal pain, but I can recognize it and I can understand. This is what I do.