Do social butterflies die?

A social butterfly. That is what my mom called me growing up. I made and kept friends easily. I usually had a core group of friends that I relied on for the important things, like borrowed hair crimpers and shoulders to cry on during rotten-good-for-nothing boyfriend breakups. But I also had many acquaintances. Still do. And they are a fun, solid bunch of people. Funny thing is though, my core group has shrunk these past few years. Significantly.

Perhaps that is based on what consumes my time these days. My free time is now devoted to my bubbly daughters and that handsome husband of mine, so any non-family related functions must be worth it. The people I am surrounded with must be good enough. Sounds absurd, I know. But I am so selective now in who I hold near, and in who I make an effort to get to know or maintain relationships with. I don't have the energy for crazies. I don't have time for shallowness or drama or ignorance. I need quality people in my life. People who lift me up. People who embrace life. People with substance.

With that said, I am fully aware that sounds "holier than thou." And believe me, I am aware my friends are getting the short end of the stick in this relationship. I'm a mess most days, and am borderline crazy myself (which is why I can't be friends with "mes"). But I am fiercely loyal and occasionally funny. And hopefully the combination of the two is enough for those in my inner circle.

Do you want to know the strange thing? While some of the women in that inner circle I see often, many are not people I hang out with daily. A few of them even live miles away. But they get me. And I feel connected to them in an indescribable way. And if they were sad, I would hop in my car and drive for hours so I could show up on their doorstep with Sour Patch Kids, a tissue and a mixed tape, er, CD. Because family aside, these women get me through. And I'm lucky to have them.

And while I am not out to make new friends (Cho, get out your "Who Has More Friends" list from the 5th grade cause you actually might beat me now), I am not closed off to the idea. I am just a lot more picky. Maybe that comes with age. Is there a bit of truth to the older and wiser thing? Not sure. I do know this. The small but mighty saying rings true. My circle of friends may be shrinking, but it consists of pretty stellar people. And that makes it plenty big enough for me.

My loves

Ah, my favorite people on earth. Is it just me or do you kinda want to squeeze them?

Valiant

I understand that we are all mortal. That regardless of how well we have lived this life, eventually death will find us. And I understand how deadly cancer, in many varieties, is. So when one of my girlfriends found out her husband, who was my age, had been diagnosed with an advanced and rare form of skin cancer four years ago, I naively believed he would be fine. Everyone did.

We saw the cancer creep in and slowly suck the life out of him. We saw his feeble frame further weaken and could not help being taken aback by the stark white that replaced the rusty brown of his pre-chemo hair. He was almost unrecognizable. That is until he spoke. Then he was Jason again. And it was easy to forget his body was under attack.

When I got news Tuesday night that he had passed away, I gasped. No way. That was impossible. Sure he had this deadly cancer. Sure he was bed-ridden and could no longer hold his children. Sure his body was wracked with pain. But Jason was not going to die. We had never even entertained the thought. Because it didn't matter how bad it got, he always bounced back. He was a fighter. He would kick this.

And that is why it felt like I had been punched in the gut when I heard the news. People die every day, but not people like Jason. It is not often you hear the word "valiant" used anymore. But he epitomized the very definition. He was "boldly courageous; brave." His battle was "marked by bravery and valor." He inadvertently inspired a small community. Even when there should have been very little reason to, he allowed all of us to hope.

That is why it is hard for me to come to terms with the fact that he is gone. Although he is now pain free, that pain has been multiplied and transferred to his young wife and three small children. And for that reason, every pathetic problem in my life, every hurdle or trial pales in comparison and seems ridiculously trivial. His family has been slapped in the face with the knowledge of all that is important in this life, and my heart aches for them.

Gifted

I know this gal named Pam. She takes pictures. You might remember her work from here (or splashed across this blog!). She has mad talent. The kind that can't be taught. She was born to be a photographer. She freezes in time the essence of my family in a way no other photographer has ever been able to. And she captures my little ones just as they are, but in such a beautiful way that I want to have fliers made and hand them out any time I get evil-eyed glances when they are throwing tantrums on the floor of the grocery store. Then I can say, "See they might be crazy, but they are freakin' adorable!"

A few weeks back we met up with Pam because it's that time of year (and as a bonus, Mark's family was here from Alabama). We might not be another year wiser, but we have aged a year. From 4 and 2, to 5 and 3 means a lot. So we got all cleaned up, got all matchy matchy and smiled until our cheeks hurt. It was well worth it. Don't you think?She's pretty dang gifted I'd say! Thanks so much Pam. I might have mentioned this before, but you rock!

ps. This is just a little taste, so you might get sick of me posting pictures from this shoot. I can't help it; I just can't get enough of her pictures.

My happy Halloween

I have tried since Halloween night to complete the traditional carving-pumpkin-trick-or-treating-pumpkin-patch October post. And while I have immensely enjoyed yours, I just can't seem to finish mine. I just keep going back to 2 photos (from the hundreds I took of said events).

I have realized if I try to force a post and it just isn't sitting well (I know, I'm a freak), I can't post anything. A posting freeze takes place. So while I may soon post pictures of my adorable little munchkins scooping guts out of pumpkins and eagerly hitting up the neighbors for candy, here are the 2 photos that just make me happy.Um, Claire, you've got a little somethin' on your cheek. A little more to the right. Nope closer to the chin. Getting warmer, just a tad more towards your forehead. Well, close enough. Just the price you pay for a good caramel apple!Ahhh, success. Let the sugar high commence.