Oh the Power of "O," and I Don't Mean Oprah

Not sure, but I think my mom has a crush on someone other than my dad:


She is a faithful Dr. Oz viewer.

I like Dr. Oz OK, but I do not record his shows.

My mom does. And then she tells me all about them. Sometimes I'm not a very enthusiastic Dr. Oz show re-tell receiver.

Today, for example, when I went to bring them a few groceries and meds, she asked me to watch a segment on preventing ovarian cancer. I confess I was not enthusiastic about this, since my friend Diane passed due to that killer. I pretty much hate the topic.

But a few months back, I made a remark something like this to my mom, "Since I'm through with menopause, if I could, I'd just have the ovaries removed. Then I would never have to worry that the silent killer was after me. I think that should be an optional surgery." Obviously, I was very emotional.

Ever since then, she has been afraid I will actually try to get a doc to take them out. I assured her I was just rambling. Even so, she brings up the topic quite a bit.

The segment today was about a diet that helps keep ovarian cancer at bay and may even eradicate the cancerous cells.

One of the diet staples is endive, which I do not think I have ever eaten.



Studies of more than 62,000 women in the Netherlands have found those who ate endive had a 75% reduction in the risk of ovarian cancer. That's a pretty substantial claim, wouldn't you say? Supposedly, all it takes is 2 half-cup servings per week to do the trick. You're supposed to eat it raw. Dr. Oz says it tastes a little like cabbage.

Well, I say it can't hurt to try it. Of course, I'll never know if it's really keeping the disease away.

But it will make my mom feel good, and that's worth it to me.

I wonder ... someday ... what would MY children do just for my sake--just to put my mind at ease? Only time will tell!

For Kelsey

Last year, I wrote about these girls having a rare (11 people in the world) genetic immune deficiency disease (Dock 8) and how my church sponsored the Be The Match event to try to find stem cell donors.

I'm sad to say that the eldest, Kelsey (right) passed away this afternoon at 5:17pm.

Heavy, heavy heart, but she is with Jesus. I know this because she was with him every day while she was here on earth these short years, so this relationship just continues now in a different dimension than we can understand. It's not that big of a jump for Kelsey. Her speech was peppered with references to him, she literally danced for him, and she pointed others to him with a mega-watt smile. He was her all in all, and now she is completely healed, forever. Not one more hour of sickness for Kelsey. Not one minute more of suffering.

One of my best memories of Kelsey is that when she was little and enrolled in a Praise Dance program with my daughter Katie, Kelsey's mom, Tammy, asked me to give Kelsey a ride home, and I agreed. About halfway to my house, I realized I had forgotten Kelsey at church. I never drove so fast back to church or prayed so hard while I was driving as I did to retrieve her, which is saying a lot for me. Upon my arrival, she was fine, greeted me with her little cheerful smile and chatted all the way home. Bless her heart.

My heart is heavy, laden with grief, yes, but also heavy with the rich gifts she shared with us all.

She will be missed. And she has the most amazing parents on the face of the earth. Much love to them.

Weekend Re-Cap

Hello, Monday. How did you get here so quickly?

Let me recap and figure out when the weekend was consumed by Monday like a hunk of meat is consumed by a shark. (Hey, it's Shark Week on Discovery Channel!)

Friday: Kristin came home from a week of cross country camp with a fever of 103*. She came running through the house straight to the bathroom where she promptly threw up. At that point I realized, "How was camp?" was kind of redundant, at least regarding the last day of camp.

Here we are in 1997. In my head, she still looks she did when she was four. But she really looks like this other picture, demonstrating teenager-ness by sleeping with her phone.


So I've been caring for her all weekend, which is heart-rending, except the part where she is too weak and feeble to resist my hugs and kisses. She's like a slug that can't protest. In a few days, she'll be all "Mom. PLEASE. Stop." So for now, I'm working the fever for all it's worth. In fact, I even cleaned out her bedroom today.

Facebook update: Cleaning out Kristin's room while she is unconscious and/or too weak to stop me from the sofa. Guess how many pairs of flip flops she owns? Hint: fewer than the total number of bobby pins & vocab cards, more than total number of gum wrappers & Christmas socks. Help. me. I'm drowning in a teenage girl's room.

Well, go ahead and guess. I'll tell you at the end of this post.

On Saturday, I ran a 5k in my neighborhood and did Jillian's Shred DVD. And then I died for a while.

I did some housework, and then went to the wedding of my life-long friend's daughter. This is Kris, who was my matron of honor. She was 6 months pregnant for her first child, a girl named Lindsey.

Saturday night, I watched Kris play "Mother of the Bride" in a beautiful backless black dress--to die for--in Lindsey's wedding. Hard to believe that little girl is all grown up and married.

The wedding and reception were beautiful, but if you were sitting at MY table, you received extra excitement, as flames shot up from votive cups that had lit menu cards on fire and then burned the decor glued on the votive cups. Yes, I had a small fire at my table. No, I did not cause said fire. I DID, however, help to put it out.

When I assessed the situation and realized that blowing on the cards would not put out this fire, I held them in the water of glass of the woman next to me.

I guess you could say I saved the entire reception?

Or you could just say I put out a little fire. That I may or may not have caused, since God is reading this, too.

Sunday morning I walked with a high school friend I have not seen in probably 30 years. We became reacquainted on Facebook. Long story short, we walked at a local park and enjoyed getting caught up.

Then we went to church, where the worship leader sang my two favorite songs and it's not even my birthday: "My Eyes are Dry" originally done by Keith Green, and "Great is Thy Faithfulness," the hymn.

Our worship leader's voice sounds a lot like Bob Dylan or Tom Petty or Johnny Cash, so he did not sound like Keith Green, and that is a good thing, in my opinion. I knew who Keith Green was, but I did not know what he sounded like because I was not listening to Christian music when he was popular. So I Googled this song after Cliff, our leader, sang it one week, and I was shocked at the difference, and as I said, I much prefer Cliff Ritchey.

Then we had an old-fashioned church picnic, with games and all. Jorge and I took 2nd place (yes, there was a ribbon) in water balloon toss.

Then I took a nap because winning 2nd place in a balloon toss is exhausting.

After the nap, I cleaned up Kristin's room, ate sherbet, and sat here and chatted with you.

So readers, how was your weekend?

Oh, the flip flop count?

21 1/2. Yes, there is one "Flip" minus his partner, "Flop."

1. Inside the church where the side dishes were.
2. Hamburger/hot dog line.
3. View from front of 180 building.

Anniversary Pictures

See the little blonde angel next to my little angel about 13 years ago? (The're 17 and 18 now). Her name is Laura, and she is all grown up and has a photography business called "Snaphappy."



We have known Laura all her life, even before she was born (on a Mother's Day, along with a twin brother), so what an honor and joy it was to have Miss Snaphappy take 25th anniversary pics of Jorge and me last Sunday.



Here are a few of the many shots she took. I hope you like the photos; we sure do! Thanks, Laura!

Weekend Recap

Friday: Jorge drove to IL to be in a wedding, yes IN a wedding, even at the ripe old age of 47. The kicker: Groom is 27. All groomsmen well over 6 feet tall; Jorge is 5'7". Should be an interesting photo.

Friday night: I ate at Subway by myself. Enjoyed the new orchard chicken salad sandwich. Bought something to wear on my anniversary vacation that is quickly approaching.

Saturday: Cleaned my house and cooked all day. Saturday morning early, did my weekly "longer" run, only to be thwarted by a barking, growling dog run amuck and a motorcyclist who mildly harassed me. You are reading one mean lady at that point.

I posted about my frustration on Facebook and received about 40 comments of people trying to help me arm myself for protection while running.

Saturday night: Jorge returns. I am a grouch.

Sunday morning: Church, Subway with family, where I enjoyed the orchard chicken salad sandwich because overkill is how I roll.

Sunday afternoon: Anniversary pics taken outside until the sky broke open and we were forced inside. As soon as I can share, I will. It was fun. Except that part where we tried to do a dip-kiss like dancers do and I'm lucky to have a skull that is not cracked.

Sunday evening: Life group (or small group, or cell group, whatever your preferred terminology is). Cindy from Girls Group brought me a special surprise to protect me when I run:





A 357 Magnum is impressive but probably too "fumbly" to carry. So I think I'll stick with pepper spray, also given to me by Cindy!

I had never touched a gun before this, and did not know how to hold it. Then the group made me go outside and pose with it. Someone snuck a video. We live exciting lives here in Muncie.

How was your weekend?

Facebook Status Update Today

I hate when it rains on a funeral day. BUT, I'm focusing on the last song I heard Diane sing just a few days ago in the hospital: "I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart," with her eyes closed, head bobbing and slight smile on her face.

Friday's Fave Five & Flashback Friday

Facebook status updated at 8:21 am: Volcanic magma + glacial melt water + giant ash cloud bringing much of the world to a standstill = LOST. Is Charles Widmore behind this? Could Frank Lapidus fly through this? Is John Locke the ash cloud?



1. Hyacinths. I honestly didn't know how aromatic they are. They are also Diane's favorite flower. I took this picture. Proud of myself.


2. Jorge and I on the Greenway trail, riding bikes like we're young or something. Proud of myself.



3. Day 3 of "Wear a Skirt to Work All Week." I decided to tackle this goal because I was pretty sure I would succeed at wearing 5 skirts in a row if I really tried. I made it. This skirt is white eyelet. Proud of myself for not caving into capris or something.



4. Diane with a little visitor. She was a nurse in the neo-natal intensive care unit at this very hospital for years. I did not cry when I took these pics. Proud of me for holding it together. Diane has always been a sender of cards and loves to receive them. Her room is decorated with them. If you would like to send her a card, her address is:

Diane Ross
c/o Ball Memorial Hospital
2401 University Avenue Rm #5211
Muncie, IN 47303




5. Girls Group (GG) at the hospital. We've had some long hours with Diane there, precious, every one. Proud of these friends.


Even these two.





Linda asks us to reach back into the flashback files for memories of childhood activities, lessons, etc.

I took piano lessons for a couple of years when I was little, about 7 years old. I had a mean, sarcastic teacher, so I hated it. I did like to practice, however.

Flash forward to third child, a girl, who took to the piano. I made sure I found her a nice teacher, but she plays beautifully by ear, bringing me to tears often. Guess which child inherits the piano?

Easter Report

Leave it to me to come up with neither a spiritually significant nor an emotionally evocative post title. Oh well.

A report is a report is a report, right?

Well, let me report this: as I'm typing this post, I'm eating my 2nd piece of Key Lime Pie. And the crumbs are falling into the keyboard, but I don't care.



I feel as though I am eating Florida sunshine. Because the last time we were there, on Anna Maria Island, we bought a Key Lime Pie just about every single day and ate it. Did you catch that? Practically a pie a day.

I think it's called "Key Lime" because it holds the key to my happiness.

Where was I? Oh, the report.

Here is a thumbnail of any holiday at the Crow house when the kids are all home: The driveway looks like a car lot. A football and Frisbee lie on the breakfast bar and kitchen table. Mountains of laundry appear. Food disappears. Silliness at every turn. I love it.

Saturday evening, I cooked. Sunday morning, I cooked. Then we went to church. GREAT service.

Here are my girls and I just before lunch. I don't know if you can tell or not, but the younger one is so hungry here that she's about to gnaw on her sister's arm. She always was the biter in the family.



Then we ate.



Then I took a walk around my neighborhood. I felt like a giant Humpty Dumpty deviled egg waddling through my neighborhood, but I did walk.

Then I went to see my friend, Diane, at the hospital. That was hard.

Then I came home and sat down to write this post and realized I needed some key lime motivation.

My emotions are pretty tricky right now. I'm keeping them smashed down until the appropriate moment to grieve fully. Maybe that's why my writing has lacked emotion lately.

I will tell you the last thing Diane whispered to me today (she actually called me back to her bed so that I would lean down to hear her): "Keep writing. Keep writing. Keep writing."

I will, Diane.

Thought I'd share this with you. I liked it a lot.

What I've Been Doing

For the last few days, I've been spending a lot of time with my friend, Diane, at the hospital. Diane is coping with cancer via hospice care. Every day is a gift.

So, since she is part of our infamous "Girls Group" which meets every Wednesday night, we have decided that since Diane can't come to GG, we're takin' the party to her. And we have done so a couple of times this week!

Saturday night, we had a good time with 70s music, raspberry sherbet (her diet is very limited, but they let her have this, so we ran out and bought some and brought it back), various games, and even a tad bit of dancing. Her dad was so overcome with emotion that he cried big crocodile tears when he came in. And then Diane cried because her dad was so happy. Many of you know that he just lost his wife, Diane's mother, to brain cancer on March 7, yes, just a couple of weeks ago. He is enduring a lot for an 80 year-old man. What a sweetheart.

So here are some pics of the little party on the oncology floor. The reason Diane has on that sparkly hat is that she is a total girly girl, loves pink, sparkle, jewelry, BLING. So one of the GG brought this snazzy hat for her wear, which she did all night, except when her DAD wore it!

Sometimes, Nice Happens

Sometimes, nice happens.

Last week, an old friend stopped by my office to say hello, and she came bearing gifts.

This is Kathy, and she is the one to whom I lied recently in order to help her daughter surprise her for her …. Momentous … birthday.



Kathy is a rep for a company called Thirty-One.

Here are the gifts that Kathy brought me from her company, and I’m still bubbling over with “I can’t believe you did this; I don’t deserve this” feelings.

Can you believe it? Why are people so nice to me??

The funny thing about the note cards is that she ordered the print to read, “Lidna.” But the smart people at the company said, “Hey, this rep may be one of our best, but apparently, she can’t spell. So we’re fixing this for her and Linda.”

Kathy received the corrected notes and then promptly requested a correction on the corrected notes.

Are you sensing she went to a lot of trouble for me?

So I have a set of regular notes with the name my mom gave me in honor of a 1940’s movie star, Linda Darnell, and a set of notes memorializing the way I type my name 9 times out of 10 because the fingers are not necessarily always in sync with the brain.

What a great surprise. Thank you, thank you, Kahthy! KAHTY! It was a mistake, but I'm leaving it!

Question: Has anyone surprised you like this, or have you blessed anyone in a similar manner? What was the occasion, or non-occasion?

Weekend Pictures and Other Fiascos

I should probably call this the 2nd Cup Weekend Re-LID, shouldn't I?

Speaking of lids ... I wore a brand new shirt to church Sunday morning, bought a skinny vanilla latte with whip (yeah, I know, contradictory), put the lid on it, sat down in church, took a drink and immediately spilled it down the front of me, right side only.

Shades of the nursing days, ladies.

Saturday, I had lunch with a friend who moved 10 years ago and another friend, so that was good to get caught up and to hear her exciting stories because this woman has THE most intriguing life of anyone I know. And I can't tell you more or she would have to kill you. She is not a spy, but her stories are that good and that serious. Seriously. Seriously serious.

Also, on Saturday I went with Kristin to see Leap Year, starring Amy Adams. It's pretty cute, and if you like romantic comedies, you'll like this one. I enjoyed the Irish accents more than a wee bit. It's rated PG, which I prefer because I'm a prudish nerd. I'm not sure why, but I've seen more movies in the last month than I saw in the entire year. Best one of all: Sherlock Holmes.

After church on Sunday, my Wednesday night Girls Group lunched and celebrated a birthday at Panera, my favorite restaurant, for Diane, seated next to me here, my sweet friend who is still beating the crap out of cancer.

Here she is opening my gift to her: "Cuddle Duds," super-soft long underwear. Hey, don't knock it until you've lived on the frozen tundra.

Diane is my hero. What this woman has endured in the last two years is unbelievable, and yet her faith and attitude are stunning testimonies to the grace of God. Happy Birthday, Diane!

Immediately after that party, we surreptitiously headed back to our church to celebrate the 40th birthday of ANOTHER woman in that group, Rachel, who turned 40 this week. Rachel is in the center, wearing purple and a painfully forced smile at the beginning of her surprise party here.



Here is Rachel telling me not to take her picture while she is crying. Whatever, Rachel.

Rachel's husband surprised her big-time, and all we had to do was lie to her a lot to help make it all happen. Thankfully, a couple of us are really good liars, so it all went well. The chiefest of liars would be the one in the middle. Great job, Daph!

Rachel is not digging turning 40, ladies. For those of you who have passed that benchmark, what encouragement could you offer her that will make her believe that this decade will be a good one? I will print your comments off and give them to her Wednesday night, when we Girls celebrate privately. It might even be fun to read some aloud. So be creative, be fun! Above all, don't be a Debbie Downer!

Sunday evening, I copied all of the addresses that you sent me over the weekend so that I can mail the "Crank" bracelets. I thanked Pastor Shane for you all and told him to look at your comments, which he did.

This is just a bonus pic to show you what face my friends bring out in me all the time. That is the face of searing sarcasm and rapier wit. I don't suggest clicking on this picture while you are drinking or eating.

Also on Sunday evening, I watched the long-awaited season premiere of Chuck, a show saved by fan votes last year. I loved this year's promotion: "No More Mr. Nice Spy." Zachary Levi is a believer, by the way. You can read an interview in which he speaks about his faith at Relevant Magazine.

So that was my weekend. Now, in honor of my coffee fiasco, I'm going to ask you to "spill it!" (Oh, my cleverness knows no bounds) and tell me about your weekend!