The Thing About Death Is...

"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"

The point of this text is that death is not the end. I have been taught this concept since being a baby in a pew at church. I get it. I get that people who love Jesus get to go to Heaven. No matter what happens here on Earth, death shouldn't really have power over us because we will see them again in Heaven and live together forever. I get that. And it's true. And death makes it okay, because we have comfort in knowing that even when a human body gives out, there is a soul that is living on, and when my body gives out one day, my soul will meet theirs and live on too. But what about the now? What about the sting of now...not the comfort of someday? What about the absence here on Earth for the next 60+ years? What about the effects of the absence here on Earth?

Now lets be clear about my role in this grief. Mine is not the intense every day grief of a wife, a mother, or a daughter. It is that of a younger sister, and the grief of someone who made it thirty two years without knowing any real death outside of a grandparent. Clint moved away a decade before he passed, and for that decade I saw him maybe twice a year. We are not the kind of family that takes annual ski trips together. Our family is not the chat-on-the-phone-kind. (Well, maybe except for we all call Mom often, but I usually only call my brothers and my Dad when I have a question.) I've especially become aware of this after living with Terry and watching him chat with his sisters on the phone regularly. But when we do see each other...we are family. We talk, we eat, we catch up, we reminisce, we discuss the future, we help Mom with her latest technology, we watch Dad fall asleep in the chair, we take walks in the woods.

The beginnings of this grief still felt like Clint just lived on the other side of the country and see you at the next holiday. But then the PTSD would kick in, and just kind of come out of nowhere. This felt very much like death had a sting, and its venom would just flare up under the tear ducts without warning. One beautiful evening, I was riding on the back of our scooter to go see the Congress St. bridge bats with Terry and WHAMO, something just entered my brain and took me back to that day at the hospital. I just kept picturing that breathing machine. I lost it and was a sobbing mess. When we got to the bridge, Terry was sweet but I was embarrassed of my crying and assumed everyone thought we were in a couples fight. It took me a whole year and a half to get through an entire "Bless the Lord Oh My Soul" at church without turning into a basket of snot. We sang that at his funeral and there's a lyric that says "and on that day when my strength is fading, the end draws near and my time has come"..............WHAT IN THE WORLD WHY WOULD YOU WRITE THAT FOR PEOPLE TO SING OUT LOUD IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE....goodness gracious.

The absence of the here and now stings more than I expected. I can talk about Clint in the past effortlessly. "Yeah my brother had one of those", "Clint and Wes used to ___", "Clint rebuilt a mustang once". But the here and now is rougher. He never got to meet Terry and I think they would have got along well. They could have talked about investing and gardening and building stuff. So when I talk about him to Terry, he is a ghost he will never shake hands with. Terry and I love a blog called Mr.MoneyMustache that I think Clint might have enjoyed. He missed my wedding, after being so encouraging for me to wait patiently for the right one. He did not dance with me that night. He will never meet my kids if we have any. He will never be at another Christmas, and we do our best to distract the girls from that. He will never pop into Austin the way Wes does. He will never research another product for me and tell me why the one I already bought wasn't a good choice. He will not give his opinion on this sad presidential election, and he will never again read one of my blogs.

Make no mistake. Death has a stinger for those left behind. It probes without permission, but it's there. That's not to say that we cannot move forward, or that we will not make new memories, but the lingering sting of death from someone close is a thing I understand now. It is a sad thing when a grandparent dies, death is sure to sting a person when anyone dies, but when my 93 year old grandpa passed away I couldn't help but think, "Hey Pa you made it! You got to see your KID'S kids grow up. Good job! Where, O death is your victory?". Its different with Clint. He was 46. He had three littles, a Stacey, and us. He was a GOOD dad and husband and a hard worker, not like some deadbeat parents who don't deserve the kids and wives they've been given.

This death experience has opened my eyes to a new perspective I have found valuable in attempting to understand empathy. The two year mark is approaching on May 26th and I guess I just wanted to write down a few feelings. I want to lift my fist in solidarity with those who have lost a loved one, or are about to, or will in the future and say it hurts and its okay! You got stung and its not your fault and you will feel crazy when you are up to your ears in snot sometimes but thats okay here's a tissue and some cake and a pat on the back!!! Go head and cry girl!! You feel all your feelings and wear them all on your sleeve and come sit by me.

Memorial Day

Memorial Day is when you are supposed to remember the heroes that fought for us. To me, it will forever be the day that my most favorite, and bravest, hero fought for us. I need to write this down. I need to be alone. I need to read this every year when my memory falters, and be reminded of how precious yesterday was. I need to get this out, and I need for you to read it because I don't "need someone to talk to". I don't work that way. Please don't ask me how I'm doing, can't you tell? Please don't ask me anything that would make me relive any part of that nightmare for you. HERE. Here is a blog. Read this and understand. As extroverted as I am, there's a giant introvert in me that deals with life through journal. Clint would always read my blogs. So this one's for you brother.


We found out Clint had prostate cancer around Thanksgiving 2012. I remember because we were about to do our mock testing at Mendez and I lost it at school that morning. It took everything I had to not be a sobbing mess that day in front of students. I was lucky to spend Christmas in Maryland that year. I was lucky to be on vacation with them in Chincoteague that following summer, which is, ironically my previous post. Over the last year and a half Clint has been in and out of treatments. Some worked. Some didn't. The roller coaster of high hopes and bad news continued until a few weeks ago when my mom called during my lunch break to tell me they had to "stop offering treatment. The cells aren't responding." Again, I lost it at school. Cancer is for other people. It's not in our family. I don't understand it. It's a hell unlike any other I've witnessed before. It happens in sad movies like "My Life". Not to my own big brother. He was only 46.


Last Saturday they told my Mom it was time to come up. She had flights scheduled for May 29th, but they asked her to come up two weeks early on May 17th. That's when I really knew it was serious. Enough to ask her to move her flight. I cried and cried, and Terry just held me and held me. I talked to my sister in law, Angie, after she dropped Mom off at the airport that morning. She urged me to go up to Maryland. I reached for affirmation from Terry who said, "Yes! Go! Why wouldn't you go?". Terry and I already had flights scheduled for June 10th, the minute after school is out. I was so excited for him to meet my other big brother, and the only member of my immediate family yet to size him up and down. But I couldn't wait that long. So instead of changing my flights I just added a new one. I used all my days off and flew up there last Tuesday.


Being at work on Monday was agonizing. Just checking messages and Facebook every 6 minutes for an update. I didn't get there until around 10pm Tuesday night. (SO grateful to Aunt Babs for shuttling me from the airport straight to the hospital). I walked into room 4002 and there he was. Himself, on his iPad, breathing machine attached to his nose. But, he was so thin. So much thinner than last summer. Thin and pale. I sat down and he and Stacey and I chatted like normal, calming my fears.


I think it was Wednesday or Thursday when Mom and I were there he told us we "needed to have a conversation". I've seen my big brother cry twice in my lifetime. Once, on his wedding day, when his beautiful bride came down the aisle and he was overwhelmed with love. He had waited a long time to find her when he was 37. The second, was this day, when he was overwhelmed with fear. He told us that the doctors said the machines and medicines weren't working. That they had tried all they knew to do. He cried through his labored breathing saying, "I'm just not ready! I'm not ready! What about my girls? What about my wife?! And Baby T? She's been such a ray of sunshine. I don't even know her personality yet. And now I won't be around to see it!" Mom and I cried and cried with him. There's nothing to say in that situation. "We love you so very much!" That's all I could think to say. That's all I could offer.


The next day we took shifts at the hospital. He wanted alone time with each of us. As he was sleeping on my shift I bent my head down to pray. I just prayed and prayed. "Lord I want to trust You in this but WHY ARE YOU ALLOWING THIS? You could fix this so easily! Why won't you fix this?!" Needless to say I was a sobbing mess. And Clint awoke from his sleep to a blubbering, punching bag faced, snotty mess hunched over in a chair on the side of his bed. I'm sure that was startling. I just mouthed, "I'm sorry." Went to the bathroom to wash my face as a nurse came in. Then mom came back and we left for the night. I texted him later and said, "I'm sorry. Sometimes I hold it together better than others."

I wanted to say what was on my mind. I wanted to get it out. But any kind of stress would throw him into a coughing fit and it seemed less selfish to be quiet and give him rest. We went back to the hospital later that night so he could have his alone time with Baby T. It was such a sweet time to watch him just be a Daddy. She can't talk any way so no need for coughing fits. She just sat on his lap and played with the pulse monitor…waving it back and forth and making him smile. She kept pulling it off her finger and he would teach her how to clip it on. That was my favorite moment of the week, and I was fortunate enough to capture it.

His resting heart rate averaged somewhere in the realms of the 130's all week. It was as if he was running a marathon for an entire week. His breathing became more and more labored as oxygen found less and less room in his chest.


On Saturday night I took H on a "special date". K had an impromptu date with me earlier in the day so it was only fair to give H a dinner date. We played in a bounce house at the mall, read books in Barnes and Noble, and ate more cheese pizza that humans should consume. We walked by one of those fountains where you throw a penny in and make a wish. She ran up to it and I just happened to have one penny left in my wallet. She threw it as hard as she could, which is really funny to watch a four year old do. We were laughs and smiles all evening until I asked her what she wished for. She looked back at me, and said, "I just wish Daddy would feel better." And I said "H, I think that is the best wish of all."

On Sunday I was ready to say my goodbyes. I had made peace with having no control. Believing that God was fully capable of a miracle, and trusting in a Heaven that gives brand new bodies and no more suffering. Mom stepped out of the room and let me talk to him. By this time he really couldn't talk at all, so he was texting when he wanted to say something, and I would respond verbally. I sat by the bed and grabbed his hand. I looked him in the eye and said, "Can I try to do this without losing it? Can you try and hold it together without a coughing fit so I can say nice things to you?"
He smiled and nodded. I began, "I want to tell you that I love you so very much. You've been the best big brother a girl could ask for. THANK YOU for inviting me into your life. Thank you for all the times you've paid for me to come up here or invited me on vacations. Thank you for wanting me to be part of you. I was thinking in church this morning about how we read these stories and sing these songs about how big God is and He can do anything and He loves us. I have to believe in that. I just know you're going to make it. It wouldn't be a miracle if you weren't on your deathbed. So, this is not goodbye, I'll just see you in two weeks okay?"


He nodded, and then he hugged me. I'll never forget that most precious moment I ever had with him. He wrapped his arms around me, my weight leaning on his labored chest, and he just held me. At one point I started to let go and move back, but he didn't. He just held on. I'll never forget that moment as long as I live. And as I walked through the parking lot of his hospital, to get in his car, and drive home to his house with his girls, he sent me this last message.

Sunday night, while Mom and I were watching Mary Poppins with the girls, I got a text from Stacey that said his heart rate was down to 124. I was SO grateful, and truly thought God was about to create the miracle hundreds had been praying for. Not so.


At 2am I got a message from Stacey that his levels were all over the place. That they had moved him to a bi-pap machine that does most of the breathing for him. My flight was for 10:50am the next morning. I got all the way to the airport with Mom in the car when Stacey texted again. "Where are you?…It may be time…" Just then Wes called and panicking I told him what was happening and said, "Wes tell me what to do! I don't know what to do!" He said, "Go to the ticket counter. Change your flight to the latest one there is tonight. Drive Mom back to the hospital. Pick me up from the airport at 1:15pm."


Okay, I can do that. Straight forward instructions. One foot in front of the other. I went to the ticket counter. I talked to a man who was unbelievably slow. I changed my flight. Got back in the car. Drove Mom and hour back to the hospital. We quietly cried the whole way. We walked in the room. This machine was new. It covered his whole face. His whole body contracted with every breath. His eyes were shut.


At around 2:30pm Wes showed up. Babs had graciously picked him up at the airport so I didn't have to leave the hospital. Clint opened his eyes long enough for Wes to talk to him. "I love you brother. I don't know if you can hear me, but I love you!"

I watched heavy hearted for 7 hours as the two women who love him most loved him in different ways. Stacey would stroke him. Long strokes on his hands, his wedding ring, his arms, his legs, his cheeks. She touched him as a wife lovingly adores her beloved. She did everything she could to make him comfortable every minute. That's the love of her life in that bed. "He's so cold!" She would say. Stacey had not left his side more than a few hours that week.

Then there was my mother. The woman who was there when he drifted into this world. The woman who has a mental photo album of every stage of his life. She would hold his hands and pat him as a nurturing mother would. Holding on for a time and then patting him as she let go. Holding on again, tears welling, and then patting to let go. Throughout this experience she has compared it to "Steel Magnolias". You know…"I can run to Texas and back but my baby can't. I want to know why? Why?"




My eyes were fixed on his monitors. I stared into the screen as his oxygen levels lowered and his heart rate increased. Then after a while, his numbers stopped moving. His chest stopped raising so violently. Wes leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Those numbers aren't right. They stopped showing his real numbers." I heard what he said but I didn't compute it in my brain. I followed him into the hallway where you could see Clint's real numbers. My eyes widened as I saw a flashing red number "36" on his heart rate. "Oh God! Oh God!" I clutched Wes, tears streaming down my face, and ran back in the room to be with my brother, my Mother, and Stacey during his final breaths. It was like watching someone drown, and not reaching to save them.


It's a surreal experience to see someone take their last breaths. To wonder if Jesus himself was walking him out of the room and we couldn't see. To watch his body turn from suffering to peace. To feel the palpable shock that there is no more. There is no more praying and hoping. There are no more chances. That's it. Enough now.




I love my brother very much. I don't say "loved" because I haven't stopped. I still love him. He loved me too. He laughed at my jokes, he was part of my life in every way that long distance allows, he made time for me.


Clinton Wade Brown,
You are loving, you are generous to a fault, you are handsomer than other peoples brothers, you are thoughtful, you are brilliant, you pick out the best birthday cards of anyone I know, you would give someone the shirt off your back if they asked. You mean the world to me. I'm so thankful you can breathe now. I know you are with Jesus and learning all about the way Heaven works. I'm so happy for your brand new body! Keep an eye on us down here, because we are missing you dearly.


Love,

Your Baby Sister

Chincoteague with littles.

Kids might as well be a rubik's cube to me between ages 5-12. I have no idea what they want. Too big to throw around, too young to have adult conversations. I surrender. Maybe that's why I teach middle school and not elementary? But kids UNDER 5 and OVER 12? Hilarious. Comical genius. Three of my four nieces are under 5 that live in Maryland right now. They are so cute and funny. Now, don't get me wrong out there Mom's...I know you've got it rough...there was a moment on this trip when I was stranded at a play ground with the oldest and youngest ones sobbing simultaneously, I had no idea how to fix it. No idea how to turn it off. I had lost the will to live.

Buuuut, then there are other times that make you forget about how you were drowning in the park an hour earlier. Like when they say really funny things like, "Come on in guys, the water's great!". Or, "Sometimes at night the humans are in their houses watching tv or eating".

What on earth?

And if you're lucky enough to be an Auntie they'll fight over who gets to sit next to you or in your lap, and then at the end of a full week of that, you might hear a little voice in the back seat say, "Who are you?"

..."Well kid, I'm you Auntie Carisse. I've been with you every minute for the last week and I was here at Christmas too. No? Don't remember? No recollection? ...It's cool."

All this to say I love my nieces and nephew and I love being an Aunt. I love cuddles and piggy back rides and having my hair brushed and I love giving your kids back to you when they freak out. 

On a boat looking for ponies!



and dolphins!

I'm doing my best to dive into this photography dream that I've had for about 10 years now. FINALLY, taking classes. FINALLY opening my wallet to some equipment. FINALLY getting up the gumption to ask my friends if I can shoot them knowing full well that they probably won't turn out that great. But if I don't practice, I'll never learn right? You can't learn to make a free-throw by reading books. Gotta get out there.

I've had the pleasure of following around TWO gorgeous photographers in the last week. Shaina Sheaff and Melissa Glynn. I learned so much from observing and asking questions. It's really nerve racking, shooting people...and I can't explain why. I guess I just want so badly for them to see the same image I see with my eyeballs, and most of the time I have difficulty converting that image on to the screen.

My brother let me photograph his family on vacation. It was really good practice, but a lot of pressure. Under 5yr old's have less attention spans than gnats, and we might as well have been beating them with sticks after 15 minutes of "sit here and smile". So it was good to shoot a family and I already feel more prepared for next time. Here's what came out...



Precious!



We got to go to a pony show!



The girls weren't scared of the ponies at all! They couldn't wait to touch them.



My brother and sister in law are excellent with the girls. I can't imagine the stress of three littles without cancer, let alone WITH cancer. They've done everything possible to keep life "normal" and they've done a great job. The girls loved the ponies, loved swimming, loved vacation. K would say, "I wish we could stay a little longer". I just love that family so much. Wish there was a way I could be near enough to drop in once in a while and still get to live here in Austin. Now that I'm older, I'm realizing how much I took my oldest niece and nephew for granted when they were little. Maggie and Carson were born when I was in college. And when I got out, I don't think family and hanging out with little kids were at the front of my mind. I was planning my next adventure, hanging out downtown, and trying to get dates all the time. I remember keeping Maggie with mom when I was home on spring break, and I had sleep overs with her a few times in my apartment. I took carson out to dinner and a movie that scared him once(Rango). I remember helping mom keep him when he was a baby. I'm sure I played with them on holidays and I remember when maggie would "Run like the wind" in her bee costume. But somewhere in there, they just grew up! And now Maggie is about to be in MIDDLE SCHOOL. My lands. On the one hand its like, AWESOME, I KNOW middle schoolers. And on the other hand its like, NOOOOOOOOOOOO where did that little girl go? Getting older makes me a lot more emotional, a lot more sentimental, and especially with all that's happened in the last year, I'm feeling more than ever the need to really love on my family while I've been given the opportunity to do so.

HTB and the KS, MO, NE roadtrip

The summer tradition of adding on an unplanned trip did not stop in 2013. I left Terry at the Myrtle Beach airport with tears in my eyes because I had no idea when I would get to see him again, and I knew he already had plans for his July and August time off. So, you can imagine my glee when he called me the next day in L.A., and asked me to fly to Kansas for his Grandma's 100th birthday party. A week surrounded by older people and Terry? Yes please :)

So after a flight delay and a second meltdown on my part, I spent 15hours in the Chicago airport waiting for my flight to Wichita, KS. Screw you windy city. Screw you. I got to meet his sweet parents, have dinner, and look for snakes. His Mom is afraid of snakes too, which somehow calms me down and makes me braver than normal.

The next day we drove to Table Rock Lake in MO to spend the 4th of July with Terry's friends he met in Africa. They were so fun! In related news, I've decided that a lake house is my dream house. When we got there we rode jetskis to dinner, set fireworks off of the doc, and went night swimming!

This is my new best friend Chester. I love his mustache a whole lot.

July 4th, 2013 goes down in history as the best 4th of July I've ever had. Now, I've had some pretty fun 4th of July's, and even seen better firework displays, but that day was wonderful from start to finish.

In the morning we went wakeboarding, rode some jet ski's to lunch, got caught in the rain together, jumped off a small cliff, switched jetskis in which I discovered Terry had been riding on a cloud all day whilst I was rough riding a water bronco, watched fireworks from a boat surrounded by the lights of all other boats, saw asian lanterns lift off, and finished with a little dancing in the living room! I loved that day and hope I can remember it forever.

Terry doesn't like dogs the way I do. So when I finished taking this picture he says, "This is your fantasy isn't it...?" Yep :) Sue and her fiance and their dog Sasha were so warm and welcoming.

We then went to Red Cloud, NE for Grandma's 100th birthday party! Let me tell you something, this lady is still sharp. She's a far better SkipBo player than I'll ever be, and gets around up and down steps with a walker. Amazing.

After church and lunch we left Nebraska. As soon as we rounded the corner Terry asked me to be his girlfriend. OF COURSE ARE YOU KIDDING. I've never met anyone like this guy, someone I have so much in common with and yet still challenges me regularly. In February, I was first drawn to his voice one dark night at the top of a high rise building under construction on a picnic with mutual friends. The next morning he showed up at church (he's a Christian?? that's like finding a unicorn these days) and I noticed he had brown eyes...my kryptonite. At lunch we discovered we had been to Costa Rica, Lao, Haiti, Alaska, Hawaii, and lived in Australia around similar times. INTERESTING. A few days later he helped me make cupcakes for Ginny's birthday party and I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed that hard. Doubled over. Crying laughing. A few days after that he kissed me on the dance floor at the Whitehorse, WHILE I HAD BRACES, and the rest is history. We've kept in touch and got to know each other better ever since.

I like him.

When I say that, I mean I like who he is. I like the person he is. I like learning about him. I like hearing his stories. I like listening to his voice. I like that he loves and serves God most of all. I like the freckles in his brown eyes and his big arms. I like how easy it is to spend time with him. I like that he marches to the beat of his own drum and doesn't apologise for it. I like his integrity, and his honesty allows me to trust him. I like that he challenges me without pressuring me. I like that my friends and my parents like him. I like that he travels. I like that he knows his Bible. I like that he's adventurous. I like that he's athletic. I like his work ethic. I like that he's responsible. I like that he's fluent in Spanish. I like how smart he is, that he researches and strategizes, and reads books. I like how funny and witty he is. I like that he knows lyrics to rap songs. I like how thoughtful he is, that he notices other's feelings. I like that he's polite and sweet to everyone. I like that he's affectionate. I like that he's easy going, spontaneous, and positive.

I'm choosing not to waste time worrying that things may be a little too good to be true and there has just got to be something about to hit the fan. Because I'm enjoying this ride. I'm enjoying and soaking up all of my moments with him. I'm enjoying our adventures together, and that's what I know.

We left Nebraska and stayed the night in Manhattan, KS with Shaster and Nick. I miss her. Australia to this day is still such a part of my daily life, which means Shasta is too.

Blindfold Mom! Not sure if you want to see this, but this is from the hitchrace about halfway down Rainbow Falls. I'm kissing a boy AND wearing a bikini...which can only mean one thing...I'm a hussy.

And now that I've finished this blog, I just realized that chronologically I have left out the entire week with my brothers family in June! No hard feelings. More to come. Just missing Terry today :)

L.A.

I'm not quite sure if this is my 7th or 8th time to visit Jane and Toby in L.A. but it's always a pleasure. FOUR of those times have been with Alayna DewLittle pictured below. I love her. We have so much fun together outside!







I'

Here's my cutie pie Dunkaroo! He's not even 2 years old yet so when he says Carisse it kind of sounds like "Star Fish". So now he calls me Auntie Star Fish and I love it.








Laying out in Hermosa Beach. No June gloom this time!!!

Jane is the best cook I know. I'm not exaggerating here. She makes meals like this every night after a long day at work and a toddler. She inspires me. She makes me want to feed myself and others better. When I get back I'm going to see if I can mimic her...now all I need is my Pioneer Woman kitchen!

I went and spent one night with Kellie in Venice Beach. We grew up together. She moved to Texas when we were in 3rd grade. She was the coolest most popular girl in our grade...and that lasted all the way through high school graduation. We have always been so different. I was always super conservative and nerdy and she went out of her way to be nice to me and invite me to things. I've always loved her for being so sweet to me, and it was fun to have another slumber party at her Nana's :)

Our first time laying out at Redondo beach....pretty and all...but we walked to Hermosa Beach everytime after this. NOTHING beats Hermosa Beach in the south bay in my opinion. NOTHING.

This is chicken John. He rides his bike around and says, "Hey Chickeeeeen" to all the ladies and asks them to take him swimming. A few years ago he asked me to take him swimming and I said okay! So he stripped down and held my hand and we went in the ocean. We only went about waist deep...thank goodness because it was arctic waters and I was really nervous the current would knock him over. But it didn't and we made it and dried out on the sand together. I don't know where he sleeps at night or what he eats for lunch, but I hope to find those things out the next time I come to Hermosa, and thank him for making a great memory with me.

So my new phone has a panorama option!!!

Sometimes Duncan swordfights with rhubarb, because he's both Toby AND Jane's kid.







Ladies night out!

This is how I woke up Monday morning :)

Locals Shmocals.

How many jumping pictures can I acquire in a lifetime?

The End.

Myrtle Beach

Again, out of order. Blogger. Grrr.

Here we are at the END of our stay in Myrtle Beach at Pirates Voyage. It's like Medieval Times but way better. Good food. Pirates dancing, diving, and singing. Sea Lions. Mermaid aerial acrobats. Dogs. Pyrotechnics. FUN.

Myrtle Beach was the magical land of everything went right. The 3 star hotel we got less expensive off hotwire had an ocean view, and came with a free day at a water park and free mini golf! I haven't been to a water park since I was 15, and I forgot how much I loved them a thousand times more than roller coaster parks. So after riding everything possible in a few hours and Wild Water and Wheels, Terry told me to close my eyes and we pulled up to a roller skating rink! He had bought socks!!

My reasons for that level of excitement are two fold. #1 I love surprises. #2 I'm mildly obsessed with the idea of roller derby. I own Whip It.  I've researched bootcamps and rec leagues of roller derby in Austin. I had a birthday party complete with a green skirt and unicorn roller skates when I was a kid. I went to a teacher training this year where I sat next two an actual ex-roller derby girl and I pounded her with questions for seven hours straight.
So roller skating was a good idea :)




I mean, they were from Food Lion...

Terry at Pirates Voyage. He's such a good sport with all of my pictures.

TURTLE TURTLE! Terry isn't afraid of animals and kind of has a way with them. He said turtles like their necks scratched and showed me how to do it. It was my favorite part of that day :)

More Pirates Voyage...

Our ocean view balcony with our Myrtle Beach hitch sign that we used for 18 minutes.

Enter: "Herping". I'm not a snake kind of girl. I'm not a cat kind of girl. I'm pretty much solely a puppy kind of girl. Always have been. Terry is a snake guy. Maybe I would think that was crazy if he didn't know so much about them. But if you look at my roster, I've always been attracted to smart guys. And since this snake thing is to the level that he knows Latin names, researched them in the Amazon, and can even in my ear correct the speaker lady at the Alligator Adventure...well it's just neat that he knows so much.




At Alligator Adventure scratching turtles.

Myrtle Beach ocean view room!

2nd place in the Girls ages sixteen and up race.

My parents live one hour from where the hitch race begins. Terry was dying to meet Sadie, as shown in the picture below.