Hey Hue! You're Just Like Me!

It's a mystery to me how I can go to one nail salon and request Bubble Bath gel nail polish and when I request the exact some thing at another salon, the shades are entirely different. How can that be? Well, it's all about the hue. Some shades have a different gradation due to a little more black or a little more white in the color scheme. Fortunately, I am not high maintenance where this is concerned. I usually just wait to see what I will be surprised with...kind of like Forest Gump and his box of chocolates. Today was one such surprising day for me. It was surprising in many regards.

I worked at a high school near South Carolina, today; and knowing that my next 72 hours are slammed with almost every moment accounted for, I had to get a mani/pedi right quick like and in a hurry, as my grandma would say,  if it was going to be a reality. Otherwise, I would need to wait several weeks as the result of an upcoming medical procedure. So, I thought what better idea than to go to SC, cross the border and just get lost. I can go where NOBODY knows my name. What a novel idea. Well, as it turns out...not so novel. Everyone and their brother was getting pedi/mani's today. I went to three locations before I found a salon that was not slammed, and at this one there was even a double date with a couple whose fellas were getting a pedicure for their first time. They were hysterical and provided quite a bit of entertainment for my experience. There is nothing like seeing their men folks' faces when the hot paraffin wax is placed on their feet! Priceless! Guys have no clue what we do to look natural!

When I first arrived at this salon, I knew the atmosphere felt different. It was alive with the laughter of these couples, the stories of a public preschool teacher from somewhere in the area, young ladies giggling on their cell  phones and muffled sounds of music from the earbuds of an iPhone that were actively engaged by its owner. I liked it! Across the room I saw an attractive Asian man with quite an impressive gun show. I have never seen biceps quite that large on someone his statue. It was fascinating. I figured with that kind of strength, he could give a great pedicure without getting fatigued. Through later conversations, I discovered that he was computer engineer who worked his way through college as a nail technician and enjoys doing nails on the weekends to raise extra money for his wife and five year old daughter. Yes...I would pick him...but wait!?! Too late. I was being "the picked" before I had the chance to be "the picker". It was a timid, tiny (and I mean tiny) Asian woman who spoke so softly that I had to strain to hear her. Her English was very good, but her projection was slight. She smiled a lot, and I could tell her thoughts were very deep and that she rarely dabbled in small talk or shallow conversations. She wasn't my first choice due to her size, but my later observation yielded promise. I don't like to be asked general questions during beauty sessions. Just let me think. I assessed that she would comply quite naturally with my need for quiet. So, I thought, "This could be okay."

She did an outstanding job on my feet. She was so meticulous and so thorough. She only spoke to make sure I was satisfied with various parts of the process. I even closed my eyes at one point to savor it...and I never close my eyes at pedi/mani. She made me feel comfortable, and I felt I understood her. I don't believe in hocus pocus or magic or fortune tellers, but I do believe in Divine appointments and Divine promptings where you just are imparted knowledge that you couldn't know without some impartation from Someone bigger than you. This was such a day for me.

The pedicure being finished, we moved to the manicure. She didn't ask me personal questions or probe into my business with small talk (I hate that...don't ask me if I'm married, where I work, how many kids I have, etc. if we just met in a setting where I am paying for service from you. It's not bad. It's just not enjoyable to me.) Later though, she did begin to share about herself. Easing in at first and waiting for my nudging to affirm that I wanted her to share more, I learned that she had a third grade little girl who had a hard time as an ELL (English Language Learner) student--a little girl who used to hate to read, because she didn't understand the language---a little girl who now can't put a book down. Her mother was so proud. I learned that 'Mr. Impressive Gun Show" was actually the brother-in-law of my manicurist and that her husband was the music man who was absorbed in his iPhone. I learned that 15 years ago, when my husband, James,  taught at Hunter Huss, she was a student there.  She never knew him, and I was saddened to find that her experience was not that pleasant. I learned that she knows the exact Asian markets to buy rice and from which ones to purchase meat, and that it is well worth the drive to obtain your Asian cuisine from just the right store. I learned that she is proud of how well her daughter speaks Vietnamese and that it is sad to her when her daughter and the young cousins get together and only use English to communicate. I learned that her name was Lisa just like mine! Wow! At first, I thought I was misunderstanding when people were calling her name, but no...it was true! We were the same name!

As our conversation continued I was curious if Lisa's daughter was still in ESL (English as a Second Language) or if she had exited the program. I was told that she was in the program but that she spent less time with the ESL teacher now. I wanted to know what qualified her daughter for continuation  in ESL so I could offer some support. Was the continued placement due to needing assistance with: Reading, Writing, Speaking or Listening (The 4 necessary language skills)? Lisa said, "It is..compre...com...compre...C...". I said, "Was it comprehension?" She said yes, and we tried to pronounce it together a few times. She said, "What comprehension mean?" I explained that it means understanding and knowing what you've read or heard in a way that you could successfully retell it to someone else.

Throughout the course of our conversation, I liked her more and more. In the back of my mind, I kept wondering what her name was before it was Lisa. I kept feeling prompted to ask, but how could I do that? I might embarrass her. I certainly didn't want her to feel like I didn't think Vietnamese could have American names, but something kept prompting me to ask. I know that prodding that says, "If you follow Me, this could be really good. Why don't you stop resisting and pulling against Me or you'll miss this moment." Finally, I just bit the bullet and said, "Lisa, what was the name you were born with? What did your parents name you?" She looked at me and said, "It's what you said." When you said "Understand" that is how you say my name. It is pronounced 'Hue'. If you raise voice at the end...it is my name. If you lower voice at the end...it means 'understand'. I write for you to show you." She sure did! I took a picture of it. We practiced. She instructed me, and I was an attentive student. What were the chances that we were having a conversation with so much connection and so much foreshadowing.

When I got home I looked up both hieu's. One is generally a boy's name that means respected or admired. The other means to digest something, to be savvy or to understand. What an amazing day! Like my dad, I've always found people easy to love and usually find some special gem inside of everyone. I have a big heart and couldn't function in an environment where I couldn't use that gift. I wouldn't want to even try. I love watching people. They are beautiful. Today, I was reminded of several things:

• Crossing the border away from your home can sometimes bring you closer to home
• Love, savor and celebrate the moment you're in---this has been a challenge for an ADD, Type A, female...but the payoff is always well worth it
• Never hold back your heart...even at risk of being broken...love, love, love...serve, serve, serve...and give, give, give.
• Today I refreshed and loved students. They returned this to me. I refreshed and loved a beautiful, mysterious and fascinating manicurist...she did the same for me. "He who refreshes others will himself be refreshed."
• Finally, it's all about the hue. All the colors, connections and compliments make a beautiful tapestry. We need diversity and differences, but it's important to take a little extra time to celebrate that magical moment when your hue stumbles upon someone who may have a different culture, a different background...but underneath the label...they really have the same hue as you!

Hey Hue! Look over here! You're just like me!

My hieu lessons on ordinary receipt paper filled with Lisa's other notes. There is a good chance she is interested in saving trees too! I can tell by how little space is left on this paper. She is using up every space

Route Recalcuate

I've been pondering this phrase for several days now. As one with a writer's heart, albeit pretty amateur, that's how we do it. Something hits us, sparks a fire and we have to wait until the right moment to kindle it. That moment was, today, for me. It all begin on a trip to Buffalo. Those who know me will attest to the fact that you can spin me around in my back yard a couple of times, and I'm as lost as last year's Easter egg. A sense of direction has somehow alluded me. I've never really minded though. Sometimes getting lost with the right person is half the fun.

It was raining in Buffalo. It was dark. My GPS was not the most user friendly, and wouldn't you just know that two main roads that we needed for Chrissie and I to return to our hotel were blocked off. We were assured by the barricade of police officers that passage would not be possible. They rerouted us. We had no choice. Whatever our plans were, however strong our protest, it didn't matter. We were being rerouted. We were experiencing an unplanned change. Our GPS began shouting out commands. She was trying to help us. Unfortunately, we could not yield to her commands for us to turn around. There were several other inaccessible roads, so we had to continue against her wishes and much to her displeasure. She continued to bark, "Route recalculate"..."Route recalculate"..."Route recalculate". At one point, she seemed to be so disgusted with us that she literally threw a barrage of spaghetti lines on the map and refused to speak. It was any man's guess...a free for all at that point. We had to manage for a moment without her. We had to go with our gut and Chrissie's sense of direction.

It sort of reminded me of life. How many route recalculations have we had? Some by choice...some very much not our choice. Yet, route recalculate we must in this life. The past 11 months have been among the hardest I have ever experienced. Today is exactly 11 months since my dad died, and with each passing day I dread next month with all my soul, as it will be the year anniversary. I can still remember holding his hand and kissing him just a few hours prior. I remember how he looked at me with such love. I have had moments when I did not know who I was, this past year or where I belonged. I have had moments when I didn't recognize my family. I've had moments when I felt I could run and run and never stop. As we must, with any loss, people have to evolve, adapt and change a bit. This has been painful. I miss my life, and I desperately miss my daddy.

I had a moment this morning where I was 50/50 about staying home from work. I honestly didn't know if I had the stamina to leave my house and face the world or serve as I needed to, today. This is a rare moment for me, and I usually work through it pretty nicely. I needed my dad, today.  I needed him to say everything will be okay with this upcoming surgery, that the "route recalculations" for my children are for the best, that Carter is going to be just fine, that the decisions I've made in regards to things the last few weeks will work out. I needed him to say, "We can handle this. We're gonna be okay." I needed to be his little girl again. I DO NOT want this route recalculation. I change my mind. I want to go through the barricade in spite of who's blocking it. I want to refuse to comply. I want to say, NO! But we don't get that choice. Do we?

I hauled myself into the car where I had another route recalculation. I left a little earlier than usual and was in deep thought...when surprise! I had made a wrong turn. Route recalculate! It was then that I began to think about my life and all the route recalculations that were for the good. The drive from Lincolnton to Mt. Holly Middle School is special to me. On this trip, I get to relive highlights of my life. I pass the place where I had my first school bus ride at Ida Rankin. I pass the place where I first found out I would have the baby sister that I had prayed for at naptime on that Ida Rankin floor. I pass the place where I received my first kiss and my first piece of jewelry from a guy who was my first love. I pass the graveyard where I used to go and study and complete my undergrad assignments, because it was quiet and I could think. Oh the solo picnics and silent prayers that I have had there! I wouldn't trade them for anything. I pass the laundromat where Mom, Grandma and I had to go one Saturday, because our washing machine was broken. I hated it! I still hate laundromats. I vowed that I would never go to one when I grew up. It seemed so dirty. Route recalculate! I went to one by choice only two weeks ago in order to wash some comforters. Isn't life funny! I pass the place where Mom used to take my brother and me for apple pie a la mode on our way to school in the morning (yes...on occasion this was the breakfast of champions). It was such a special memory. I pass the place where I discovered Mom had cancer, and the place where she fought to win against it.  I pass the place where my Grandma would hold my hand and safely walk me across the street as we bought our first pack of Budding Ham for our own special picnic. I pass the place where I had my first of many beautiful Barbies and showed it to my less than impressed Grandpa as we sat in chairs on his lawn. I pass the place where I was Wonder Woman or the Bionic Woman and by brother and I would save the world in our makeshift capes and pretend lassos of truth! I pass the place where on Sunday night services that lasted a little long, my dad would scoop me up in his arms and carry me home as my sleepy eyes opened and shut looking at the stars and at the strong contour of his jaw. I pass the place where I have felt the safest in my life...in my daddy's strong arms. I pass the church where as a 12 year old girl, I was baptised--where I stood with tears streaming as I was enveloped in a love like I had never known---a love that has never forsaken me. A love that still covers me, pursues me and sustains me. I pass many route recalculations on this short drive. There have so many changes along the road of my life. Some so beautiful that they make the tapestry of my life glow with pristine radiance. Some so hurtful that they have cut me to the core and I wondered if I could recover, but this one thing I know. At every route recalculation, I have had friend who has never left me. I have had someone who has helped absorb the shocking blows and who has multiplied my joy in such gracious ways! I am grateful tonight for Him. I am still navigating this route recalculation without my dad, but I am assured of this: And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. Romans 8:28

I was listening to the following song this morning and when it gets to the part "over us" (You reign over us), I can almost feel my Abba Father holding me. Yes...the place where I can feel the safest is in my Daddy's arms!"

What Goes Down Must Come Up

Sometimes in life we find that in order to go higher, we must go lower. This is strange, but true. Sometimes we have to lose in order to ultimately win. Like the seasoned eagle whose wings become burdened down with aged feathers that can no longer carry him to the heights of his youth, we must beat off the old. We must spend time in hiding as we heal, and we must allow ourselves to renew.

When I arrived in New York for the first time ever, I was faced with this realization in an amazing way. The hotel employees at Buffalo were welcoming, charming and accomodating. The employees at our Rochester hotel left much to be desired. As we arrived at the hotel seeking valet service, we soon found that there was none to be had. We were immediately greeted with a parking deck that was a hot mess. This was only preceeded by a vagabond who aggressively persisted for monetary gifts. Upon finding our way through the maze of ply wood, concrete slabs and crime tape we found a very tight parking space. Relieved to be parked, we walked toward an entrace of the hotel. This was when we realized that there was no elevator and we must drag our 200 lbs of luggage down two flights of stairs. Once we made our way inside of the hotel, it was realized that we must go up a flight of stairs with our belongings only to go down an escalator to check in and finally to go up an eleavator to our room. Up, down, up down...isn't that like life though?! Sometimes we go up, but ups are always followed by downs. To go up, we must go down.

On my last night in Rochester, my colleague, Chrissie and I were determined to have a bit of fun. We had worked hard for three days and wanted to end our trip with one last, sweet memory. As part of our job, we were recruiting new teachers to come to NC. They were precious! They were inspiring, and the vast commonality among the female candidates was that they wore Alex and Ani bracelets. Chrissie decided we needed one too! We began our adventure which involved obtaining one of these. We had directions from an interviewee and high hopes of securing one soon. With a pit stop at Nick Tahou's for a first time garbage plate experience for me, we had planned to grab something else for Chrissie. We detoured by Wegmens to "ooohhh" and "ahhhh" at this impressive grocery store, and we began to search for Chrissie some sustenance. We soon forgot the main goal of our mission--the elusive bracelet.

When Chrissie recalled our goal,we realized that we were lost; however, we soon found an Alex and Ani's on Culver Street at the Armory. I was excited! This part of Rochester was beautiful, warm, friendly, crisp and inviting. Upon leaving NC, my mom gave me some money that she asked me to use to buy myself something special. She and my father had planned to travel when she retired, and New York was on their bucket list. This was not to come to fruition due to my dad's failing health. Mom said, "Lisa, your dad and I would want you to buy yourself something special from us. I wish we had been able to go to NY together, but we are happy that you are. Have fun, and get something to remember your trip." I honestly was only 50% committed to this. I wasn't sure if I could own something that reminded me of what my dad could never do...would never be able to do, but nonetheless the moment had come.

It was surreal. When Chrissie and I entered Alex and Ani's I was amazed at how beautiful the jewelry was. I was also a little saddened as I remembered Dad. It was at that moment that we were greeted with the most precious and very young sales ladies. They said, "Ladies, are you here for our event?" I replied that we had just come to purchase a bracelet, but that we were curious about the event. She begain to explain that the event was to raise funds for literacy as a memorial for a deceased, prominent, local educator. She showed me the table where they had punch and treats and decorations of such books as The Hungry Caterpillar. She bragged and gleamed at her decorating efforts that honored children's literature. She said "...and by the way, Ladies, twenty percent of your purchase tonight goes toward this cause for promoting literacy in our area."

What? Was this real? What were the chances that we would actually be here? What were the chances we'd find  this store on this night...or what were the chances we would even want to find it after getting lost? What were the chances that on the one day at the one moment when Alex and Ani were honoring teachers, education and literacy that we would be there? I began to cry. I wasn't sad. They were tears of happiness. They were tears of gratefulness. I was overwhelmed by the perfection of the moment. Two of the three young ladies attending to us were prospective teachers and they loved sharing with us about education, and they loved bouncing ideas off of us.The charms they showed me were exactly what I would have chosen: Ladybug (my nickname which means happiness and affection), anchor (which means hope, tranquility, stability), hummingbird (which means awakening, healing, eternity) and an apple (which means insight, wisdom, teacher). I cried tears even as my efforts to hold them back were unsuccessful. How perfect! This would have been just how my dad would have done it. "Surprise! Lisa, it's a party! You don't need to be sad that I'm not here, Ladybug! You need to be excited. I am always proud of you my teacher girl! I am always proud of you, and you're going to make it. Daddy, loves you!" Not only did he invest in me, but he invested in my profession. He invested 20% in literacy which is my passion! That is my dad, and that is my mom!

Working to bite back tears as I stared out at the gorgeous park in front of me, I realized that Chrissie still needed to eat, and I wasn't sure what we would do. It was in that moment that one of the sweet girls who was checking me out said out of the blue, "Have you tried, Trata, next door?" I said, "No. Is it a bakery?" (I had seen a bakery beside it). She said, "No, there is a bakery near it, but Trata is a great restaurant that serves burgers, sweet potato fries and other great food!" Wow! Even that detail was taken care of! We had found food for Chrissie, and the atmosphere in that place was awesome! As we ate, laughed and reflected on the irony of it all, I just kept thinking: "Some people live a lifetime for a moment like this". It came to mind as I basked in the way things had perfectly aligned, that this was one of those moments you don't forget. Getting lost was an awesome happenstance that led to being found.

Life is amazing. It is perplexing and beautiful. Its complexities that are paralleled by its simplicities create a beautiful canvas! Sometimes we must go down in order to go up. Sometimes we must be lost in order to be found. Sometimes we must lose in order to win. Sometimes we must relinquish control in order to stand our ground. Sometimes we must give the very thing we wish to receive...and sometimes...just sometimes we must do nothing but simply enjoy the perfection that was gifted to us for no reason at all...except that we are loved!

Picture of the Literacy Event Complete with Children's Book Captions over the Food