A friend of mine asked me last week to tell another story aboutbeing blind and about what my husband has to deal with. I think the worst I've ever scared him, is when I drove the car to my in-laws house. Most of what we go through together is funny and makes for great laughs; after I live through the embarassment.
One of the funniest, and the most embarassing happened just a few months ago. I was so thouroughly humiliated when it happened I almost gave up shopping at Wal Mart. (Almost...It would take alot to keep us out of Wal Mart."
 It was late just before midnight on a saturday night. Erik and I were, of course, getting last minute weekend supplies before Sunday rolled around.
When Erik and I shop its more like a scavenger hunt than shopping.He drags me and a cart around the aisles.
    "What else is on the list?"
    "Peanut Butter."
    "Didn't we just buy that last week?"
    "Its been a month." I affirm as he wanders and mutters about aisle numbers and price-per-ounce
This Saturday night we weren't using a cart as we were just going to grab a few things. You know, Whatever we can stack and carry out of the store, because we aren't buying that much. (The best laid plans of mice and men... and Walmart shoppers... often go astray.)
We were wanderingdown one particularly narrow aisle due to the enployees stocking the shelves, when Erik paused to check a price and I suddenly had an overwhelming need to sneeze. I did not know which of the formsI could hear  cluttering the aisle were boxes, posts, or people, so as the sneezing fit was about to commence, I turned my head to the side so as not to sneeze on anyone. Once i recovered from the onslaught of sneezing,Erik began walking rather briskly down the aisle and I followed hoping we would be done soom, because I really needed a tissue. A stream of foul language and curses errupted from behind us, as Erik hurried me along the row of shelves and I was at a loss as to what had happened. I was sneezing, whatever trauma had occured behind me I had missed it.  Erik was doing his very best not to bust out laughing as I was dragged around the corner and into the next aisle. When I asked him what happened he could hold back no longer and informed me that as we casually strolled down the aisle, we paused long enough for me to turn my head and sneeze directly into the face of one of the stockers. he hurried me away so fast that by the time she reclaimed her senses I was half way down the aisle with no idea that I had just contaminated this poor woman. Erik couldn't stop laughing and all I wanted to do was go hide in the car until he was finished shopping.
The worst part of it is that I probably see this woman every time I go to Wal Mart, and don't know it. With only the sound of her cursing me to hell for recognition purposes, I blindly (literally and figuratively( go about shopping while she hides from me.
I guess it could be worse though, she could go from night stocker to NIGHT STALKER. to get even with me. I am used to holding the wrong hand, walking into things, and even apologizing to inanimate objects for stepping on them, but this will haunt me until Wal Mart goes out of business. I know that will come along with the end of the world so I just plan on laughing at myself until then. I hope that emplyee will forgive me and maybe even laugh along...eventually?

Today, June 17, is Father's Day. Like Mother's Day it is a holiday that can be bitter-sweet. A father possesses some many roles in our lives, that the colliding emotions around those men, can be as tempestuous as in any drama or tragedy.
I, was fortunate enough to have had a father, who formed in my heart and mind, the basis for every heroic figure in my life.
My father was brilliant and strong. He was funny, forgiving, patient and powerful. He died when I was a teenager and has been out of my life for years longer than he was in it, but it is the influence of that man, that colors every perception of men that I have.
The man that is the father of my children is just like my father: Strong, brilliant, funny, powerful,patient. He colors a world for me, that is without light or color. My husband and my father do not look alike. They have a different kind of brilliance and passion. They fulfill different roles in my life, but I recognized the man I wanted to be with forever, because I loved my father first. I let myself be loved again after his tragic death, because my father loved me, and I knew I could trust the love of a man like he had been.
My husband, Erik, is more than just a good man, a good father, or a good husband. He is the kind of man I hope my sons will become. He is the man I hope my future daughters-in-law search out when finding true love. He is the most powerful force in the formation of the men my grandchildren, and great grandchildren will be.
Thank heavens, because he is the perfect man for the job.

One of the many questions a writer must answer when creating a story is Why? That question along with who?, What?, Where, and How? give a basic frame work for any story. One of the many questions we as human beings ask more frequently is Why me? In a life story or any story full of tragic occurances, heartbreaks, and disasters we shake our fists at the unknowing sky for answers to Why? and Why me?
     For any readers of dystopian novels these questions are sifted, almost seasoned in the novel titled:Divergence by Veronica Roth.
     This particular setting is a community broken into five groups or factions who are given aptitude tests to discover their particular strengths. They are then given severe physical and emotional training to enter the elite of the faction. Our heroine in Ms. Roth's story is gifted in more than one of these areas, but chooses to go through extreme physical trials that will improve her natural gifts and allow her to be stronger and more courageous. The Author allows you to avoid even the suggestion of a need to ask Why me? It is made completely clear why? Because you have the capacity to excell in this arena.
     If life is a series of great emotional and physical trials with the potential to break or brighten the abilities of those who live in it, then perhaps the question we should be asking is Why not me?
     Am I not talented, strong,or resiliant enough to handle a little flame? Am I not capable of learning, inspiration, or excellence? If I sit on the sidelines of life and watch others climb, crawl, and claw their way to a higher plane thenwhat are my capabilities worth?
     The good news is that each of us stand at the foot of a mountain. A mountain that is dangerous and difficult. The climb will be treacherous no matter whether it be, the alps the
andes, or the appalacians; It is not a matter of perspective. Whatever your mountain is; don't be afraid to climb it. Do not stand in the mountains shadow and shake your fist at the monstrocity asking Why? or Why me?
     Instead, push your hair back from your face, plant your feet firmly on the trail and ask; Why not me?