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Sunday, September 19, 2010

His hands...


I miss his hands. I miss everything, but lately, I’ve been thinking about Scott’s hands. Beautifully scarred and rough. They always felt strong and sure when he held mine. Those hands literally built cars and planes, and fixed any and every broken thing he could find for 39 years. He had marks and scars everywhere, most from his youth, but some he added while I knew him. One of his fingers, I think it was his ring finger, bent the wrong way. I can’t remember why. Maybe some sport injury or jam that happened years ago, or maybe it was just… Scott.

For years, those hands came home with grease and grime under them, and though he would scrub and wash, they would never fully get clean. Honestly, I never minded. Those hardworking hands supported our family of 2, 3, 4, 5, and then 6, never complaining about the scratches, cuts, burns, or pinches they endured as an airplane mechanic. They worked hard, every single day, and they came home weary but ready for more.

And then, there were the 12 years his hands held, loved and guided our babies: cradling, brushing little girl hair, teaching our boys to build model planes, holding hands while crossing the street, waving and clapping while they sang in the Christmas concert. So much love, so much care given through those rough, mechanic

hands as if they turned to butter when the kids were near them.

I miss how he always knew where we were going, because I rarely did. He would hold out his hand and wait for mine, and I would just place it inside and walk. He knew, and I trusted. I didn’t even need to know the plan or have directions, I just needed to hold on. I miss that, not worrying about where to go, being led.

I see glimpses of Scott’s hands now in my boys as they get bigger. They have the same gift of working with them that their dad did. I pray they will use them in the same loving, wise and strong ways Scott did.

There is no touch, no clasp or embrace that will ever compare to those hands.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

I LOVE BEING A GIRL!


I love being a girl! I really do. Maybe it’s spring on the way, but I just wanna gush about it for a minute. I love dresses, shoes, make-up, playing with new hairstyles, and all things foofy-girlie!

Like most girls, I definitely went through a “tomboy” stage when I was younger. Instead of Barbie dolls, I played with “army men” and built go-carts that I tested out on top of the steepest hills in the neighborhood. My best friend was a boy named James who shot me in the eye with a bee-bee gun because I dared him to, and I would gag at the thought of wearing anything with ruffles. Even now, I have times when I just want to wear a t-shirt and jeans. Only the t-shirt might look like it was attacked by the Be-Dazzler, and the jeans carry a substantial amount of butt-bling on the pockets as well. It’s just too hard not to sparkle when you have permission!

Now, I know what most of you are thinking: There are definitely some notable cons. Many, if we really sat down to think about it. Speaking of sitting down: I do wish we girls had an easier time going to the bathroom when we camp. And, I guess that feeling of vulnerability when you’re on a city street late at night isn’t my favorite either. Of course there’s that awful time of the month that turns us into crazed chocolate-hunting, self-loathing she-beasts! Yes, yes, many cons if we must point them out. However, all of those are trifle compared to the rush brought on by a new pair of strappy sandals and that feeling you get when you come out of the beauty salon with some screaming fresh red! Ah! I love that! Oh, and let’s not forget the power of that magic dress that hugs and hides in all the right places and makes you feel like a feminine super hero. Wearing that dress makes all the cons fade away into a cloud of pixie dust trailing behind you as you saunter around in your open-toed greatness!

Ok, and yes, there are many deep, spiritual, and motherly reasons to be grateful to be female as well, blah, blah, blah…. I am not totally superficial, I do appreciate the ability to carry a human being (or 4) inside my body and give them passage into life. That is super cool. And there’s the kisses that heal boo-boos, the shoulders that harbor rivers of tears, and the gentle soft skin that nurtures even with the slightest touch. All great reasons as well. (Have I mentioned the shoes?)

No matter how old you are, what dress size you wear, or how many kids you have, I recommend you celebrate that girl inside you, ladies! Twirl in your skirts and bat your eyelashes! You know why? Cause you can, and it’s fun! And I for one, am not ashamed to say that I love it!

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Floss Or Die


I have a confession. I am certain that I am not alone in this admission of guilt and that is why I feel safe enough to share it.

I hate flossing. I really am talking complete disdain. I try and justify not flossing to myself with these statements (not spoken aloud for the most part…)

  1. I’m too tired.
  2. I will floss in the morning.
  3. What’s it gonna matter if I miss ONE night?!

Ok. Here’s the part where I become a total hypocrite. I am a flossing Nazi when it comes to my kids! I am militant about them flossing. Why? Because I want them to have healthy teeth that will last them a lifetime. I don’t want them to have any dental problems what-so-ever. Why? Because I have had issues with teeth that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Why? Because of not flossing.

Can you see the tangled web of insanity?

Let’s just tackle my 3 excuses.

  1. “I’m too tired.” – Yes. This is true. I believe moms live in a constant state of “I’m tired.” But here’s the thing: I will spend a good 40 minutes on caring for my face, because God forbid I get a wrinkle or a blemish. Masks, scrubs, toners, eye creams, anti-aging whatever, right?! By the time I finish my skin care routine, It’s almost morning. So, why then, can’t I embrace another 2 minutes to floss the things that not only have great purpose in my life, but are probably one of the first things people notice when they meet you. Teeth, baby. Teeth are important.
  2. “I will floss in the morning.” – No I won’t. I know it. You know it. It’s a morsel of deceit I’m trying to feed myself. Kind of like setting my clock ahead so that I’m not late. Yeah. Still late.
  3. “What’s it gonna matter if I miss ONE night?!” – Ok, so, on the times when I DO floss….stuff is found. Like…food. Gross. Basically, that food that would be fished out by flossing at night is still there in the morning. There is not a fairy to take that away. And…let’s be painfully honest, rotten food smells. That makes me gag.

As most of my blogs go, I have no real point. No moral of the story. No words of wisdom. All those things are left up to the reader. I am merely on a transparent journey of self-discovery and growth.

(Subliminal message: FLOSS OR DIE!)

Have a nice day.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Would You?

Recently, I was faced with the opportunity to help someone in need or.... not.

Now, it seems that there would be no choice to make, right? Help. Of course! Lend a hand. Do a good deed. Pat yourself on the back.

But what if you had to get messy? What if it meant you would suffer? What if you had to take on the embarrassment and judgment for the person in need? Would you still do it?

Ok, and what if you had an out? You had a valid reason or excuse that would dismiss you from the obligation. You could just walk away and let someone else get their hands dirty.

The epiphany for me was this: It's not about my choice at all. It's not about me. It's about the person who has the need. The person. Not even the need is important, the person is.

When you are the person who is in that position (and I have been) nothing else matters but the help provided. Not the excuses or reasons, not even the person doing the helping. All that matters in those moments is relief.

I guess what I'm saying is this: If it's not me, who's gonna do it? While I'm busy deciding, a person is waiting for SOMEONE to step up.

Would you?

Sunday, July 12, 2009

A Business With Heart
















Bassitt Auto Co. is this cute auto shop up the street from our house. You can’t miss it! It has a huge picture of a basset hound with a wrench in his mouth. It’s adorable and inviting from the road. Inside is even more spectacular. It looks like an old-fashioned “soda- fountain.” In fact, you can actually get something to drink from your “soda jerk” behind the counter while you wait for your car. The atmosphere is so fun and attractive, you just want to stay and hang out. It’s certainly not your typical auto shop!


Scott used to take our cars there. Those who knew Scott knew he would NEVER buy a new car. Not only did he consider this an insanely poor investment, he thought it was no fun at all. “Cars need work” he would say. And boy, throughout our years together, the Resnick cars certainly did. Scott’s mustang (s) were always in need of this or that. I remember dropping Scott or a car off at Bassitt many times. Scott believed they were a great company, honest, friendly, trustworthy and very knowledgeable.

No, this isn’t a plug for your car service needs. This is a story about a different kind of need, and a local business that rose above and beyond the call of duty.

After Scott passed, Craig Bassitt contacted us to ask if he could do something for our family. He remembers Scott and considered him not just a customer, but “part of their family.” He felt a calling to do something for the kids and I to show their support and care.

On Friday, they picked the kids and I up in their company limo. It was the children’s first time ever in one, and they freaked out! We actually used to pass this very vehicle all the time and Scott would tell Kiel, “When you turn 16, this is our next car. Mommy and I will hang out in the back and you can drive us around in style.” You know, I actually think he might have been serious!

We loaded up into the limousine, and Craig drove us to Red Robin (the kids favorite) and bought us all dinner. We sat, chatted, laughed, and ate until we were stuffed.

Our next destination was across town to a house in SE that had a litter of basset hound puppies. These dogs were the most adorable little things we’d ever seen! The kids were in HEAVEN! They snuggled and played with the puppies until they almost burst. But that wasn’t all…

You see, Craig had a professional photographer there to get pictures of the kids with the puppies. Not just for me to savor, but to put on the cover of a magazine they advertise in. They want the add to be more of an article on Scott’s legacy through his children. Again, not just a customer, but part of the family.

Bassitt Auto is also hosting their 5th annual “Cruise In” on August 14th. Craig wants to offer the proceeds from the event to our family for the children’s education.

I am overwhelmed by the true goodness of people… The love of our fellow man… The amazing way that a stranger becomes a cherished friend in an instant.

Thank you, Craig and Bassitt family, for a night we will never forget!

Friday, July 10, 2009

A Waste Of Time

June 18, 2009

Thought today about how most women I know (including myself!) pick themselves apart in some way or another. We complain about our weight, our hair, our skin, our bums, our lack of this or our abundance of that. We just never seem to give ourselves a break.

In a small moment of clarity this morning, I recognized how ungrateful that is. Our bodies are incredible gifts that do amazing things. For those of us that are moms, you know just how unbelievable your body can be when called to the test! We are strong, capable and courageous creatures by design.

I also decided that it was a waste of time. “Waste” being the key word. To spend time criticizing that fabulous gift instead of using and appreciating it is simply wasteful.

Like it or not, we are also the “super models” for our children. As my daughters get older, I am more and more aware of how my own body image affects theirs. Pretty high stakes!

So for today, (and hopefully all the days that follow) I am committed to love myself: mind, soul and yes, BODY. I hope you will join me!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Reliving the Glory Days




I recently joined a co-ed volleyball league. Ok.. I just have to say it: I have a passion people...beyond singing, beyond making babies, I......love........volleyball. This is a picture of me in high school, I'm number 2. No comments about the hair or size of my rear.




Now..I've been out of the whole "team sports" thing for a long time. College....to be exact. BUT...I have never lost my love, lust, passion for competitive volleyball!




A friend from church approached me awhile back and asked if I wanted to be on his team. I said:
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! And here I am. On an awesome team of really good players, playing every week, making plays, catching the angles to dig the hits, serving, etc. I am LOVING EVERY SECOND OF IT!




Ok..the best part? No...not that my husband is on the team with me (sorry, honey)...NO... the best part is that my BEST FRIEND from high school is on the team with me. (check out that picture above once again...she's #1 right beside me!) This girl was once a mighty Blue Jay with me at old Lu-Hi, and now we are back on the court together again. That...my friends... is SO COOL! It's like dejavu. To look across the court at my best friend from high school, several (don't make me count) years later.... totally a trip!




We play every Sunday afternoon, and it's not nearly enough. Our team is currently ranked 5th.....a ranking we WILL change....Yes...we will take the championship! We will!!!
I think I'm a little beyond into this. I need therapy.