The Beer Store

The Beer Store


Got your attention? The words sure got mine!


Sitting with my small group of friends sunday evening one of them turns to me and says, Kim, we had an interesting conversation with Savanna last Wednesday night. I began to think, OH MY...what now! My buddy just happens to watch kids on Wed nights while I am at screeching practice (see previous post). She said she and the other worker...that just happens to be a friend of my teenager...were watching Savanna play. They watched her put her baby doll in the car with her and say to her "Hurry up, lets go to The Beer Store"!!! My friend knows my history and that I almost never drink so she knew there was a funny story behind it. So, here it is.


Early one morning after dropping off my teen at school the toddler and I were heading back home and she states.."Mom, can we go to The Beer Store?"


I am really lucky to be alive. It is an absolute miracle these words from my then 3 year old didn't cause me to wreck the car. My little mind began to race. WHERE and from who has she heard these words? Certainly NOT from me.


When I decided to leave my alcoholic husband in the D/FW area I very intentionally chose a town close to my mom that was DRY. I take pride in my DRY town, but I do on rare occasion have a drink. Not more than a few a year so it seemed to me impossible that my child heard this awful term from me. At the time she stayed with my mother and grandmother while I worked. My mom might have a few drinks each decade and my grandmother until the day she died a month ago never had a drop so that was also not a possibility.


As all the thoughts were racing in my mind we stopped at a light and my daughter says excitedly "There it is, there it is! Can we go get a 'krippie treat' from the Beer Store?" I know that a krippie treat is also known as a rice krispie treat but the important thing at the time was The Beer Store. I asked why she called it The Beer Store. She looked at me as if I were blind or just stupid and carefully explained that the white thing on the glass by the door is a POLAR BEAR, and that there are all kinds of bears and that Diego talks about the others, I should watch it. So that makes it The Bear Store! Oh, silly me.

So, now I wonder how many people at my church think poor Savanna takes frequent rides with her mom to The Beer Store!

Branching out

Since the loss of my grandmother and our friend, I have been trying to help my mom get involved in my church. She has been a few times, but never really got connected since she was my grandmothers; primary care giver. She has been spending lots of time going places, but not doing anything that will establish lasting relationships.

My church has an annual Christmas production that includes a drama, orchestra, and a choir. The choir stands in a set of risers shaped like a humongous Christmas tree complete with lights and greenery. It really is amazing. Since I was involved in the media production of the 'tree' last season I decided that I would always be a part of it, there is no going back...I can no longer be a mere spectator...I HAVE to be part of it. I intended to be on the media team. A position that is not noticed by the general public and one that I can just show up the week of production. Plus the added benefit of getting to play fun jokes on the poor souls who are in public view!

I came up with the idea of gently nudging my mom into joining the Choir and singing in the tree in hopes that she will get connected. SHE loves to sing AND has a nice voice. I called around to some friends from church and got urged to join so that she will. Unlike my mom, I don't have a nice voice and more accurately, I. CANNOT. SING. Not only is there no ability, but just the thought of speaking/singing in public makes me literally sick at my stomach. It was a real problem...deciding what I should do. It made perfect sense at the time to go with mom to choir and then conveniently worm out of it once she was comfortable. Besides, the media team would need me and bail me out!

Mom and I went to the choir kick off meeting. We were immediately swarmed with loving church members welcoming us to what turned out to be my own private torture chamber. I was asked what part I sing, Alto, bass, tenor, or soprano. WHAT??? How would I know that? Ironically one of the loving church members was the very person that urged me to come 'to get mom involved'. Yea right! It was days later before I realized that I was so busy trying to 'coerce' my momma that I was totally oblivious to the fact that I was getting coerced!

I stood outside the door to the choir room thinking I can’t make my self go in there, I CANNOT do this. But with someone's slight pushing I made my way in...BEHIND my mom. After a few minutes of discussion we got our music and started to sing! SING at the kick off meeting. What is that all about? I was already having internal dry heaves, well not really but it sure felt like it. Since I was sooo clueless and didn't know what part I should sing I was ushered to sit with a seasoned member of our worship band. That helped...NOT. She has an incredible voice and they put me by her?! I don't know if I feel worse for me...or for her. I think they missed the ‘I am gonna bail soon’ memo and totally are not on board with my not so bright idea! I was immediately made to feel part of the team and THE VOICE next to me was gracious enough to direct me to the right pages every so often. Not only can I not sing...but I also can’t read music. I didn't even know there was anything to it. Even if I could have read the music, it would be much help without knowing what part I should read and then sing. I generally stayed a few pages behind, but lived thru the evening...but only barely.

The following Sunday I spoke to the media team to let them know how I had been at choir practice. I didn't even get to the end of my 'oh, what to do' sentence when I heard the most awful, dreaded words of a lifetime...OK!

OK?...OK? The media team also missed the bail me out memo.

I am going with plan B (lip syncing). Pray for me…no, pray for the audience.

Filling the branches - Kim

Anger and God's timing

Since my last post, my Grandmother passed away. She was diagnosed with cancer in the spring at age 89. She tried chemo and radiation but they seemed to only tire her out without providing any benefits. By the middle of summer she and the doc agreed coming in to visit was also tiring her out and not doing any good so the decision was made to have hospice come out to the house to check on her.

She came to live with my mom years earlier so that we could take care of her. My mom was always by her side nursing her doing everything for her, even the middle of the night trips to the bathroom. As she continued to get worse my mother was given instructions on how to keep her comfortable. I got the news on Saturday morning while I was at work that she was no longer able to speak and respond to the family. The night before she was talking and just herself. I thought I might die from the news. By the time I got to her the wonderful hospice nurse had been by and advised that we were in the last hours and that she must have suffered a stroke in the night.

I gave myself a good talking-to on the way over there. I thought I knew what to expect and that I needed to be strong and put together for my mom and sisters. Never before have I been more wrong. My first image walking in the door was my 3 year old pleading with my grandmother..."Please Mama I talk to me". My heart just broke.

I quickly made arrangements for Savanna to stay with one of my friends from work so that I could stay overnight and be with my mom and sisters. The night was bad and hard...but Sunday morning was much worse. Her breathing was very labored and she was moaning. We could only assume that she was in pain. What a horrible feeling that was. Our only responsibility was to keep her comfortable and we seemed to be doing a poor job of it. We lost all hope of recovery. I prayed more intensely than ever...that God would take her home. He didn't, she continued to suffer for what seemed like an eternity, and I got angry. I have never understood when people have said they were 'mad at God'...now I do. I am not proud of it but I write it because I have learned so much from it.

By late morning her breathing was calmer and the moans stopped and, most of the great-grandkids and starting coming in to say good-bye.

By evening everyone was heading back to the metroplex to get ready for the next workweek...and just wait for the news. All the great-grands left and I left to take Bri to church. One sister was to stay with my mom and the other 2 were leaving. Just as they began to leave...literally walking to the door...Mama's breathing became labored and the moaning came again. After I dropped of Bri and was in the driveway of my friend to pick up Savanna my sisters called and said I needed to come back quickly. I pulled back out of the drive way and when I got to my moms she was gone.

It was several days later when going over all the past week's events that I remembered being angry at God. I quickly realized how amazing God's perfect timing really is. At the time the suffering was never ending, afterward I was able to see how God timed everything exactly right. My mom and sisters were there with her but the kids and I had just left. It wasn't apparent immediately but my absence was also well planned...it allowed me to remain strong later. The exact second that he chose was perfect. I now realize that I should not have judged others harshly when they were angry with God. I see things from a new perspective now.