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Tale of Two Crystals

In every report card from my youth you will probably see the words "Crystal talks too much in class" scribbled on the back under the teacher comments.  I was an outgoing, bossy lil thing and I did love to talk.  All the way up until my senior year of high school, I had something to say. Then somebody had a brilliant idea and decided that pregnancy would shut me up real fast.  Sadly, it worked.  I zipped my lips at 17 years old and became shy, introverted Crystal.  The social retard. Unless I know you extremely well, I will be awkward and quiet. I will turn red when any attention is put onto me.  It has completely become who I am.  To remember that young girl before 17 years old, is like thinking of someone else's memories.  I have a home video of myself, when I was around 12 years old which totally puts on display, THAT Crystal.  My kids love to watch it.  I was silly, outgoing, and completely carefree.   I watch with my family and tell them "See, mom use to be fun.

Out of the mouths of babes

I am sitting here studying for a test, reading about various procedures for eye, ear and gastrointestinal disorders and hear my son in a sing song voice say.. "Dick, Dick, Diiiiiick, mom what does dick mean?" I swear it felt like someone had tied a rubber band around my neck and forced all the blood to pool in my cheeks. Like any good mom would do, I asked him to repeat what he said even though it was quite clear the first 200 times. When I was certain he said Dick and not Rick, sick or flick I asked him where he heard that word. Perhaps he had a Richard in preschool? He told me it was from school. Faster than I could reach for the phone and disenroll him he took all the childhood innocence that he could muster and said... "You know, in DICK tac toe"  I quietly placed my dirty mind back into it's proper place in my frontal lobe and went back to studying. Monday, June 11, 2007 

"I don't have to look up my family tree, because I know that I'm the sap." Fred Allen

The past few days has been a whirlwind for my husband.  Family he has never known opened up their hearts  and poured out kindness and love.  I have stood back mostly, sometimes jumping in, but primarily reveling in this reunion taking place.  I have watched as these people patiently described stories to my husband, explained aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and finally giving my husband a history in which to belong.   A little background Brian's father died when Brian was a toddler.  It was an unexpected and unnecessary death, that was rarely mentioned or talked about.  He grew up with a loving mother and 2 brothers, but always felt short changed in the dad department. It left my husband angry many times as he tried to find some kind of closure or reason why. When we met and I learned of his past, I had an itch in my soul to find some kind of connection for him, but I knew that I had to wait on Brian to be ready.  Years ago, we traveled to California on a family trip

Iven Do It

     Iven was a nickname that had grown on my family during my youth, so fitting was the name that they even had me a t-shirt made in my honor. Iven wasn't a dog, an imaginary friend, or the name of a cartoon character. Ivan was my mantra. You see, I was a fiercely independent child and if something was going to be done, by golly, I was going to bring it forth in the universe! “Iven do it” I would yell out!  Others would snicker at my inability to say “I Can” but to me it was my first taste of independence and the joy of accomplishing something on my own. Iven disappeared as the years went on, and soon Iven was just a word now yellowed on a shirt in the back of my hope chest. I got lost in the monotony of life, consuming myself with pity, doubt, and restless negativity.  Iven soon turned to "Iven do it later" As I grew older,   I yearned to reach people with a message of love and the ability for everyone to see the divine opportunities that they hold inside. Soon even