MEMORIES

So, I am at my parents house and trying to arrange all my scrapbook stuff so that I can make the big move to my office with it. Mom is going to be buying my brother's house as they are building a new one. (There wont be room for my scrapbook stuff there) I want my mom to be in a safe neighborhood and lets face it, Iola Drive isnt what it used to be. Besides the fact that when you were around Bill Butler, you just felt safe no matter where you were. I remember the first time I moved out of the house, I said I wouldnt live anywhere without gates and an alarm system. A few weeks after dad passed away, I even called a police officer to make sure they were still doing neighborhood checks in Blue Pool each night. That's one thing I think God tries to teach His children...is to put your trust in Him because ultimately people will fail you. Now, I can't ever recall a time my dad failed me, but him not being here sure does put a kink into my sense of security. Anyways, I got everything sorted into piles and thought, it will be easy to move this and get reorganized and catch up(since I have not scrapbooked in quite a while) Then the thought of seeing all those pictures of happy times just made me sad. A couple of Sundays ago at my aunt's house we were looking through all the old Warren childhood photos. They could look at Uncle Stanley and laugh at some of the crazy pics or just smile. I can't wait for the day when I am at that point. Please pray for us as we make the transitions of homes. My parents lived on Iola for 31 years and it's the only house Chris and I knew to be home. I'm not too attached to the house as to the memories it represents. Please pray that when those days come to sort through and "God help us" throw away stuff that we will be okay with it all. Geez if yall thought I was sentimental before...whew! I ate dinner and watched tv in my old bedroom last night. I made it home around 10 and wanted to go to bed then. I went on a search for a plate stand I thought I put in a dresser. Well, the drawer was stuck. I was determined to get into it. I did just about everthing and finally got it open enough to see what was obstructing it. I pushed it down and opened the drawer. Then the tears came. It was a couple of framed police pics of my dad and a needlework that I had taken from their house. So I had a pity party for a while and some restless sleep to follow. I said that part to say that I overslept on Sat am and missed something important for one of my best friends. I am very sorry to her for that. It was then I realized that I need to get a grip. I want to grieve, but I don't want to lose the great friends I've made or have my friends want to stay away from me because I'm "not fun". I will leave you with this: My friend Lisa, who lost her dad 3 years ago, says "Love me for who I am and Love me for where I am."