It's Thursday, But It's Not Supernatural

Excuse me a moment, before I get started here. Please note: I realize I usually post my Supernatural blogs on my LJ or BFZ spots, however, this one is a bit different than my normal Supernatural stuff and I REALLY wanted it to be here as well. Hence the reason why I'm posting it here. Okay????

It’s the first Thursday after the season finale and I had a plan.

Actually … I still have a plan.

It is a plan that was something to help get me … and hopefully entertain you as well … through the endlessness that is called “Supernatural Summer Hiatus”.

However, today’s initial publication has been interrupted by the Broken Arrow Public School System.

*grins*

I don’t know why you would be surprised. Those of you who have been around awhile know they’ve been doing to me for years. Heck, those who have been around a short time probably still know about it. Having three girlies … one in choir and two in band … means having activities to attend. Yet somehow, the BA school system automatically always seemed to know exactly when Thursday night would present, not only a new episode of Supernatural, but usually an episode that was key to the mythological storyline, thus making it twice as enticing.

However … as I am constantly advised by the youngest of my girlies (with hands on hips, toss of hair, and glaring eye – all she need is the tapping toe – scary!) … the three of them are indeed more important than any television program, even Supernatural. That doesn’t mean to say that I haven’t become excelled at strategic cut and run parking and hugging/kissing/dashing at the end of a program. And it sure doesn’t mean that my sweet Baby has become an expert streak at navigating the road from school program to home in minutes. It also doesn’t mean that my girlies don’t roll their eyes as I make my departure, and then quiz me the next day … begging to see the newest episode and determine for themselves whether it was good or not.

However, my girlies … well … they are my heart and they are my soul and they ARE more important than a Supernatural episode. (Shhh! Don’t’ tell them!) Therefore, today … the Broken Arrow School System and my eldest girlie are allowed to interrupt this blog originally designed to be my introductory Supernatural blog for my summer ramble room.

Today … tonight … at 7:30pm (CST) … my eldest girlie will be entering an auditorium with her graduating class of 2009 to receive her high school diploma.

Proud doesn’t even begin to describe the way I feel about this young lady.

I could spend some time and tell you about her accomplishments, for they are many.

I could spend some time and tell you about her years of band – the awards, the parades, the concerts, the practicing in my garage when she was just beginning.

I could spend some time and tell you about her years of softball, games, practices, getting dirty and scraped and loving every minute of it.

I could spend some time and tell you about her love for her cat, her enjoyment of reading, of heckling her younger sisters, of sleeping past noon, of listening to music, of playing games, of drawing, of watching the “The Lion King” over and over and over and over and over.

I could spend time and tell you of her years growing in God’s grace, of watching her grow, grasping the concepts presented and understanding God’s love for her as His own child.

I could spend time and tell you several things about this child whom I held the day she was born … a gift from heaven … delivered as a blessing to my heart and a delight to my soul.

However that would take more words than I can post without once again breaking the blogosphere. I’ve done it once, I won’t do it again.

I will simply tell you that there is no greater feeling for me than to have this child’s arms encircle me and lay her head upon my shoulder … there is no more feeling of completeness than to hear the words at the end of a phone call – “I love you, too” … there is no greater joy than to be rewarded by a sweet smile, a twinkling eye, a wicked grin, or a snarky comment during times spent together.

She is precious.

And tonight, she will be doing the walk across the stage and be given her diploma (or the semblance of it until final grades are tallied – not that there’s a question, but there are procedures), thus marking the end of one journey and embarking on another. Accepted to an awesome university, next fall she will be moving onward – learning more about life, about people, about the world around her – towards her dreams, some fulfilled, others changed, others evolving.

And tonight, I’ll be in the audience … watching the young blonde girl cross the stage in her cap and gown and seeing the small girl with shiny gold hair and tiny hands clutching tightly to the plastic play spoons as she sits on my kitchen counter on a Saturday morning “helping” me make Mickey Mouse pancakes for breakfast before we settle ourselves on the couch for yet another viewing of Disney’s “The Lion King”. I will be watching the spirited young girl, smiling and laughing amidst her friends and peers and seeing the little girl who would place her hands on each side of my face, look me in the eye and tell me in her little girl voice that I was her “bestest friend ever”.

Nope. Proud just doesn’t quite cover the feelings I have for this young girl. I don’t think words ever truly describe them.

Yet that’s okay.

Because what’s important is that she already knows.

And I know.

And that’s enough for both of us.

So, my friends … today I’m taking a break from my love of Supernatural and concentrating on my love for something … someone … a wee bit more important.

Okay … a whole heaping mound more important.

Yet, I hope you will keep an eye on this space … I plan to return next week. I’m re-watching Season Four and I’m rambling. I’ll actually be starting with the finale of Season Three, since I never actually wrote about it. And I’ll be doing these rambles with the help of “my friend”. BDW has always been central to the storyline. It seemed only right to bring him along with me. :-D

But for now … I’ve got a girlie to watch graduate.

Isn't she beautiful?

Happy Thursday!! Best day of the week!

Down Main St. in Small Town USA

It was Osceola, Iowa.

I don't remember the year, but trust me when I tell you that it was *mumblemumble* years ago, that I saw my first small town parade.

I'd been to a big city parade. At the age of 5, my parents took me into New York City early one Thanksgiving morning and I got to see the Macy's Christmas parade live. My biggest memory of the parade? Nope, it wasn't seeing Tom Turkey, the balloons, the bands or Santa Claus himself. My memory is of the fact that since I was shorter than those around, I couldn't see, so my dad lifted me up to sit on a mailbox next to them. This was followed by the arrival of a policeman on a giant brown horse (I was short AND I was a city girl, you do the size math!) telling my parents that I was not allowed to sit on federal property.

So much for the parade memories from that year. I'm sure I was fascinated as only a wide eyed child could be at the time, I simply can't access those memories.

I can remember my first small town parade. Okay, it may not be the very first one I saw, but it's the first parade I truly have memories of being there, seeing the bands and the floats and the cars and the people. I remember the sounds, the smells, the way the sun shone down on everything - people smiling, laughing, waving with pride the little American Flags. It was over the Fourth of July holiday and it was in Osceola, Iowa, home of my mom's parents - my Nanny & Papa.

Osceola is one of those wonderful small towns built around an open city square and it was around that square that the parade wove it's way. My Papa was a member of the Osceola Volunteer Fire Department and I clearly remember him in his crisp white shirt and his dark blue pants with the dark blue cap firmly on his head as he rode in the big fire engine. I remember a float that was shaped like the world as it rested in the back of an old red pick up truck. I remember the bands and the horses. The sights and smells, the sounds as they wove through the day. My Nanny worked in a booth that sold pies and other baked goods. I don't clearly remember if it was for her church group or because she was a fireman's wife but I do remember being sneaked a cookie if I would go on and not just hang around. There were carnival rides set up in the square and that night the square became a magical world of bright lights and carny music and cotton candy.

However, it was the parade that started the day.

I think those memories are part of the reason I love living in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. We are a part of the Tulsa area and therefore we are part of a metropolitan community, but there are times when Broken Arrow is simply a good, old fashioned small town. The second weekend of May is one of those times. Each year, on the second weekend of May, the town celebrates Rooster Days, a spring time festival. There is a Miss Chick pageant, a carnival, a craft show, music and lights and on Saturday morning, there is a parade.
A good old fashioned hometown parade.

Leading the parade is the high school marching band, fittingly named, The Pride of Broken Arrow. These kids, grades 9 through 12, are amazing musicians and Grand National Champion winning marchers. There's one that I'm particularly proud of myself ... a sixteen year old sax playing junior.

Yeah. It was a nice way to start the parade. Although, this year the parade was started even sweeter as one of the main sponsors for the Broken Arrow parade is our own local Blue Bell Ice Cream Creamery and while their big brown truck slowly made it's way down the street, it's various employees came down each side with large ice cream buckets handing out mini ice cream sandwiches. One, two, three ... some had four and five ... didn't matter, they were free and they were yummy and there was no shortage of smiles after that.

Mixed between the various middle school bands were various floats from area businesses and churches, groups of cheerleaders and dancers. There were old cars and new ones, including the new unmarked police car contrasting with one of the original Oklahoma Highway Patrol cars. There were Shriners ... the spinning car, the clowns chasing each other, the mini speed cars racing up and down and around, the dune buggies. There were politicians (what's a small town parade without them?) and there were representatives of the local television station.

The parade began to wind down, having saved the best middle school band for last. Okay, probably not completely true since they actually marched the middle school bands in alphabetical order, but in MY opinion it was the best middle school band. You see, making her debut marching performance was yet another of my girlies, also playing sax. After years of watching her and her sisters in this parade or the winter Christmas parade, either as band members or Girl Scout troop members, the thrill of pride never fades in seeing the flushed face of the young person I adore, who has been a part of something fun and hometown wholesome. They may fuss about walking the distance, but in the end - they're always smiling.

Of course, after the parade came the craft show and a day spent at the carnival. Later that night would come the tired, sweaty, children recounting the twisting, twirling, plummeting fun of rides as they count their loot of plush animals - the magic of colorful lights still shining in their eyes.

However, before that, still seated on the concrete sidewalk, feeling the breeze, listening to the music of the bands and the people, watching the amazing sight of a small town community, I remembered back to those days *mumblemumble* years ago and the fond memories of sharing a fun time with family and I hoped. I hoped to myself that my girlies were stockpiling those memories to recount in future years.