Through Amber Colored Glasses

Last week, via Twitter, I was introduced to @thegaygourmet and his fantastic idea for #Nationalcookieweek. Those interested are challenged to prepare a cookie recipe per day and post the pictures to their blogs. I will be posting my selections to my food blog: theycallmeamber.com. I have narrowed down my list of finalists, but I still need one more. I welcome your suggestions

Here’s the line up so far:

Pecan Laced Sandwich Cookies with Orange Buttercream

Apricot, Cornmeal and Sage Cookies

Peanut Butter and Jelly Cookies

Inside Out Carrot Cake Cookies

This has been a tough week. I’m so grateful for all the kind messages of support and condolence. Today we said our final farewell to Papa. This is the eulogy I wrote. After this, I promise more upbeat posts.

For Papa:

It’s no secret that I have always been Papa’s girl. We have a special connection, and I have always cherished that. My brother and I are lucky to have had such a close relationship with both my Papa and Nana. At times, it seems like we spent more time with them than our Mom and Dad. They were always there for us- in fact, I don’t think they ever missed a sporting event, awards ceremony, birthday, or holiday.

The last few days of my Papa’s life caused me reflect on our time with him a lot. One of my many favorite memories revolves around basketball. I played for many years and nothing gave me greater comfort than seeing my Papa and Nana arrive, seat cushions in hand, while I was out warming up. A sense of calm engulfed me when they arrived. A constant and stable presence, always. Knowing they were there for me and were proud of me meant so much. I couldn’t have asked for a better Papa and Nana.

I wish I could share all of my memories with you today, but I have so many. Let me just say this- I will be long sustained with all of the happy memories I have of both my Papa and Nana. They were truly a blessing in my life. It’s hard to believe they are gone. I miss them so much.

When I received that call in 2005 that Papa had had a heart attack, I thought we had lost him. Up until that point, losing Papa was just a distant thought- something that would happen down the road when I was older and wiser and able to handle such things. Well, here I am, older and a little bit wiser, but I don’t think anything can prepare us for the loss of someone we love so much.

After his heart attack, Papa fought back. No doubt about it, he’s a strong one- a stubborn, strong German, we used to joke. And these past few years with him have been such a blessing.

There was never any doubt how much Papa loved us. Whenever I saw him, he hugged and kissed me and would say, “I love you, I love you, I love you and I miss you so much.” When I moved to Fort Wayne in 2002, he often reminded me that I could move to the farm- there was room enough for me, Jon and the dogs; there were plenty of jobs to go around. I’d laugh and change the subject. He wanted all of us together, because he “didn’t really like change,” he’d say. That always made us laugh, and we’d say, “You don’t say? We didn’t know.”

My papa lived on his family farm just a stones throw from this church his entire life. There’s little he loved more than the farm, his family and this church. When I was younger, I used to think this church belonged to him- and many others would probably agree that he thought the same. I have so many fond memories coming here with him. When I was really little, he used to hoist me up so I could stand on the back of the pew in front of him and we’d sing our hearts out. No one will dispute that my Papa couldn’t carry a tune, but that did not deter him from belting out his favorite hymns.

I am so glad we can all be here today, in his church, to celebrate his life. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Papa, you have meant the world to me. There are no words to describe the influence you’ve had on my life. I love you with all of my heart. I know how hard it was for you when Nana passed, and I pray that you are with your darling once more, looking down on us and showering us with your love. Selfishly, I wanted you here with us forever, but I know you are in a better place now with Nana, your mom and dad, and your sister Betty. I hope it was a joyous reunion. I will miss you all the days of my life, but you will be with me always. I love you.

The past few days have sucked, a lot. Here’s a recap:

On Thursday, just hours before the #fortwaynetweetup, I received a call from my mother to tell me that my grandfather had taken a turn for the worse and probably wouldn’t make it through the afternoon. “There’s no sense driving out here now. You won’t make it in time,” my mom said. I was devastated. 

So, I did what I had to do, put a wall up in my brain, and went about my day trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. I alerted my tweetup co-hosts about the situation just in case they saw me faltering at the event. (They were great, by the way!)

Later that night, I expected to arrive home to hear the terrible news- that my grandfather had in fact passed, but he hadn’t. I talked to my mom and told her I’d call her in the morning and if he didn’t die overnight, I’d head that way bright and early.

Bright and early came and my grandfather was still hanging on, so I packed a suitcase and loaded up the car. On the way out of town I stopped for gas and a Diet Coke- one of those gigantic ones in the Styrofoam cups. (I really do love fountain soda). When I got back to my car, I placed the soda in the cup holder, then proceeded to finish pumping my gas. When I returned to my car, I discovered a horrific scene- my cup holder, with my iPhone resting in it, was quickly filling with soda. Turns out, when I placed the soda in the cup holder, I did so on top of one of my hair clips and it punctured the bottom. 

Hysterics is an understatement. I am sure the other gas station customers thought I had been shot. I grabbed my phone and placed it on the floor mat and assessed the damage to my car. So far, it appeared that the spill  had been contained to the cup holders. In a frantic haze I drove back home. Surely Jon would know what to do. I was in no shape to take care of this myself.

Fortunately, we were able to clean up the mess relatively easily. My phone appeared to be functioning properly. All was well for the moment. 

Fast forward 2 hours, I am just outside of Chicago, barreling down the freeway and my phone starts malfunctioning. First by flashing rapidly and casting lines across the screen, then by projecting a weird haze over the app buttons. It wasn’t long before it crashed completely. Done. And a strange sort of panic set in. What would I do? How would I call my mom when I was almost there? What if I got a flat tire? As if no one, in the history of the world, had ever traveled sans cell phone. I felt completely cut off from the world. 

Long story short (kind of), I arrived safely, did some research about saving my iPhone, placed it in rice for 3 days and the poor thing never turned back on. It was a Christmas gift in December 2008. I will never forget how ecstatic I was when I opened that box- my first smart phone! We’ve been through so much together- by my side or in my purse no matter where I went. And yes, even though the technology is now outdated, I will miss my iPhone 3. You were slow and unreliable towards the end, but I loved you. We visited the AT&T store on Monday and upgraded to the iPhone 4, which is gorgeous, but my heart aches a little for my trusty iPhone 3. You were a good phone. Thanks for the memories :)

I am not a Bible Scholar, nor could one say that I am a devout Christian. My faith has wavered in recent years. Some would say that I have lost my way. However, the evening that my Papa died, his pastor visited him. When Pastor entered the room, we all gathered around Papa and bowed our heads to pray. And then Pastor read this scripture to him- one that he said in recent days had been a great comfort to my Papa, and in that moment, it brought great comfort to all of us. Perhaps, for the first time in my life, a scripture brought calm to me. My Papa is now free from great tribulation- reunited with my Nana in heaven. 

Revelation 7 9:17

9 After this I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes and palms in their hands;

10 And cried with loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.

11 And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God,

12 Saying, Amen; blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. 

13 And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? And whence came they?

14 And I said unto him, Sir thou knowest. And he said to me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 

15 There are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. 

16 They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. 

17 For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. 

For years, my Nana sent me a small book called “Upper Room,” a monthly daily devotional guide. And for years, when the little book came, I’d glance at the note she wrote and promptly throw it away. Whenever I saw her, she’d ask me if I was still enjoying them and I’d lie. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wasn’t reading them, because that would mean I’d have to tell her my faith was wavering.

When Nana died in November, the little book stopped arriving in my mailbox. I had no idea how much that monthly mailing meant to me until today. A package came in the mail, addressed to me from my grandparent’s address. My parents are staying there now because my Papa’s health is failing and they need to take care of him. I opened the package without a thought. There it was, the newest issue of “Upper Room” accompanied by a note from my mother that read: 

Hi, 

Didn’t know if you wanted this, but I thought it might help you get through these difficult times.

Love, Mom

Tears. Instant, uncontrollable, unstoppable tears. There, in my kitchen, alone, I sobbed.

I miss those monthly mailings. I wish I hadn’t thrown them away month after month. I miss my Nana. Since her death, I’ve come to realize that there has to be a God; there has to be a heaven, because if not, it means she ceases to exist except in my memory and that is not acceptable. And these times, these difficult and grief ridden times while we wait for my Papa to take his last breath are unbearable, but they are made more bearable knowing that he is steadfast in his faith. I am sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. I am sorry I couldn’t share that with her.

Now that TinCaps baseball season is upon us, I wanted to share an article I wrote for Fort Wayne Living magazine in May 2009, right after the stadium opened. My love for Parkview Field has continued to grow the past 2 seasons and I am looking forward to season 3. 

I was a skeptic. When I heard that the city was planning to demolish existing businesses to construct a new baseball stadium downtown, I didn’t think it was a good idea. How would this help revitalize our city? Would it really draw people downtown? Would anyone even attend the games? What would happen during the off season?

Though, once the project was approved, I was determined to rally behind it. The deal had been made. The stadium was going to be built. It was time to support it. After all, I certainly don’t want it to fail.

As opening day neared and excitement began to build, I too was excited. I began to think that perhaps moving forward with the project was a good decision. Attending opening day at Parkview Field solidified that sentiment. Abuzz with throngs of eager spectators, the stadium came alive. No longer a construction project clogging up downtown streets and looming lifeless in the cityscape, the stadium radiated with anticipation.

On opening day, I entered the stadium and felt an overwhelming sense of community. Old friends and new friends conversed on the concourse about the beautiful weather and the equally beautiful stadium. The sun hit the buildings in such a way it was as if they too were beaming with approval. The crowd roared as city and project leaders took the field. Along with over 8,000 other Fort Waynians, I watched the first pitches (and yes, I say pitches, because there were many honorary first pitches). 

As I explored (and admittedly experienced a bit of sensory overload), I repeatedly heard exclamations of “Isn’t this great?” “Wow, I wasn’t expecting this.” “This actually makes Fort Wayne seem like a real city.” I watched dads hoist their sons to their shoulders, families scurrying around to buy t-shirts and last minute treats, and couples making their way to their seats to catch the opening pitch- all with the fervor of newfound youth and admiration for the Summit City. It was inspiring- a dream come to fruition- and everyone was on board. 

And, the weather couldn’t have been better. The week leading up to the big day had been dreary, rainy and cold. I feared it might literally put a damper on the day, but that was not the case. In the clear spring air, I enjoyed a few beers, ate a hot dog and watched as the TinCaps pummeled the Dayton Dragons 7-0 in the first game ever to be played at Parkview Field. And, for the perfect end to a perfect evening, fireworks were shot off from midfield; the city as the backdrop.

That’s right, I am a skeptic turned fan, and I will be catching as many games downtown this year as I can. You should too. 

I have been well for 324 days… almost an entire year. Yes, I have been counting because this is a BIG deal. Wait, scratch that, HUGE. GIGANTIC. ENORMOUS. deal.

Historically, I am a sickly person. I am allergic to more things than I can count (the sun included, which is a bummer of epic proportions), which makes me susceptible to sinus and ear infections. Like clockwork, I can expect to be down for the count 4 times a year, each time the seasons change. 

So, 324 days. It’s a miracle, actually, and I haven’t changed much except my stress level. I tend to be high strung, high energy, high stress. About a year ago, I started to retrain my brain. I started focusing on the positives. I started giving myself a break from my self-imposed unrealistic expectations and timelines. I took a job that feeds my soul. I think that has made all the difference. 

And then today, I feel it. You know that feeling you get in the back of your throat, or just under your eyelids when you are about to get slammed with the plague? Yup. I have that feeling. I am getting sick. I know it. I am devastated. I so wanted to make it an entire year sickness free. I think it’s too late. I am too far gone now. All I can do it bunker down, take my vitamins, and get some rest. It is the convergence of unavoidable circumstances- dealing with a family crisis, exposing myself to sick nieces and nephews, and not getting enough sleep. I am going to be sick. Sigh. Day 1 starts tomorrow or maybe the next day, but I will make it to 365.

But, moral of the story is: I may have finally figured out how to take care of myself. It only took 31 years.  

Last week at a YLNI event, I came face to face with someone I follow on Twitter who I have interacted with on several occasions, but who has not followed me back. I was starting to get a complex and even asked her husband if I had done something to offend her. My junior high inferiority complex started bubbling up. It is safe to say that I was obsessing. I sure hope some of you can relate.

When I saw her in person, I mentioned it to her, and she was quick to say that she doesn’t watch that stuff very closely and she was very sorry, and then promptly pulled out her phone, logged onto Twitter and started following me. I believe it is the start of a beautiful friendship. (Yes I am talking about you @whirledkatie). 

You see, I am not as outgoing as I seem. Even mentioning to her that she was not following me took a lot of courage. And this time, it paid off. She didn’t shun me. She didn’t explain why she was opposed to following me. She had simply overlooked my attempts to connect.

This taught me a valuable lesson: There’s no sense obsessing; you might as well just ask.

So, there’s another Fort Wayne Tweep who I have been following for a long time, have interacted with on several occasions, but who is not following me. We have a lot in common, I think. We both live in Fort Wayne. We were both nominated for 40 Under 40 Awards. We have a plethora of mutual friends- both virtual and real life. We like riding our bikes on the Fort Wayne Trails. We both like to support local art. I even donated money to his Ferocious Quarterly project because I value his artistic contribution to our community. Why, oh why, isn’t he following me? 

So here it is. I am putting it out there. @nateutesch, why aren’t you following me? If you don’t want to, that is okay. At least I will know and can, perhaps, stop obsessing about it so much. 

Thanks for your time!

PS- I promise, I am not some crazy stalker. I am just a girl who loves Fort Wayne and wants to connect with others who love it too. 

PSS- If I actually get the nerve to post this, you can find me hyperventilating in the corner. I am such a sissy.

I attended the Power of the Purse luncheon in DeKalb County this afternoon. What an amazing event! I was blown away by the girl power in the room and especially enjoyed the keynote speaker, Lori Casiano, plant manager for TI Automotive. Her story is inspiring- the first and ONLY woman plant manager in the company’s history. Talk about breaking the glass ceiling!

At the end of her speech, she listed 7 things that every empowered woman should know. 

1. Look people in the eye and shake hands firmly.
2. Don’t let anyone intimidate you.
3. Always behave and work with integrity.
4. Manage your time wisely; not doing so is wasting time.
5. A good circle of girlfriends will become more important to you as time goes on; invest in those relationships.
6. Give compliments freely.
7. Remember to have fun.