Lasting Impressions

Wow! Okay, so a lot has happened since my last post. Good and sad. I'll go in chronological order to be sure I cover everything. I've grouped these separate occasions together because each of them has something to do with lasting impressions. Everyone makes an impression on me. Whether it's the guy walking his dog in our neighborhood, the cashier at the store, my friend across the table, or my husband. The impressions are all different and vary, but the fact that each individual stands out to me, makes me want to do my best and be my best always. I often fail, but I hope that my lasting impression will ultimately be a positive one. One that leaves no doubt who I am, what I stand for, and that I love and appreciate each and every soul God has created.

Two Fridays back I joined Bradley on his final Soaring to the Symphony event. Four years ago, my husband came up with a brilliant plan to not only allow his students the occasion for added culture, but to also enhance their life skills. His school is within walking distance of a DART station, and with his networking skills (passed down from both of his parents), he was able to set up a wonderful evening for his young musicians at the Meyerson Symphony Center. So, for the past 5 years, with chaperones and students, we've made our way to the train station, hopped on, and enjoyed an evening of dining and instrumental entertainment. Before hand, Bradley sets up a demonstration with both the DART and one of the musicians from the Dallas Symphony {BIG THANKS to Ashley at the Meyerson for all of her assistance with the meal and tickets!!!}. His students learn appropriate dress, behavior, and safety when using public transportation. This year I had a wonderful group of girls! Holly, Kate, Kathy, Keeana, and Xitzel are beautiful young women, and I was privileged to be their orchestra 'mom' for the evening. All of the young men and women were dressed beautifully. 

I don't have a picture, but this year, after the concert, we were able to go back and shake hands with the maestro! Bradley arranged it, and several of the students looked like they were going to burst or pass out with excitement. It was adorable to see their true love and appreciation for the art of music. I am so proud of my hard-working husband, who is a HUGE reason why they love the art. It was sad to say goodbye to such a fun and beneficial tradition, but I have no doubt that this annual event has left a lasting impression on many, if not all who have attended. I am honored to have been apart of Soaring to the Symphony. Farewell Perry Eagles, and I pray that you all soar to your highest height!

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Another bittersweet moment was Bradley's end-of-the-year concert. Every moment was precious, as we knew it was our last with this talented group of students. If it wasn't emotional enough already, Bradley's assistant director, Eric, wrote an amazing piece of music in memory of his father. It is entitled Lasting Impressions, and to top it off, Eric commented that it was fitting for the evening, as Bradley has left an impression on everyone he's contacted from his colleagues to his students to the parents. So, the piece had a double meaning for the evening, and it brought most of us to tears. Bravo Eric. Bravo. It was an awesome experience for the students to have the opportunity to accompany Eric on the piano, as well as to see the beauty of music at it's full potential: an expression of the heart, soul, and mind. Several of the young ladies were sobbing to the point of not being able to see, but they all kept playing. It was extremely moving, and I will treasure the moment forever. I told Bradley that many teachers have left and moved on over the years, but not many have the majority of their students crying at the thought of their leaving. He has been gifted with one of the largest hearts I've ever had the privilege of knowing, and I feel confident that God needs his heart in Cambodia.

For the final piece, Bradley began another tradition five years ago. The last piece at the end of the year concert is a movement from Holst's Jupiter, and all alumni are invited back to play with the current varsity orchestra group. Twenty-five, that's right, 25 of his alumni returned for this piece, and 5 were bass players {Bradley's instrument of choice}. There were 8 basses total, and it sounded amazing! Out of the 25, five of the students are seniors, and we were so honored that they had the desire to be a part of this final send off for their beloved director. After the song concluded, Bradley hung his head, trying to hold back the tears. At first, the only movement was the applause from the audience {it was a packed house with standing room only}, and then the concert master, Kathy, sweetly trotted over to Bradley and wrapped her little arms around him. Then one by one, the students flooded around their teacher.

There were a lot of proud moms that night, but I feel confident, none were more proud than Bradley's. She started him on this road to becoming a musician, and what a path he has made! I am humbled by the thought that I am married to such a man, and that I have been granted the chance to be a member of the Perry Orchestra family. Thank you to all of the young men and women, to the parents, and especially to my better half for allowing me this opportunity to fly alongside each of you. Bradley, I hope and pray that I can be the wind beneath your wings.

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Packing your life up makes you reflect... a lot.

Trying to sort through what you need, what you want, and what can wait until you return has been one of the greatest challenges through all of this. Preparing my household for whatever the future holds is kind of crippling, if I allow myself to dwell too much. So, I keep moving and packing. However, every once in a while, I stop to dwell. As I was working on my office and reading corner, I came across some old photos. Precious photos.

Coming from a broken home (I mean no disrespect to my parents), one of the very few blessings is that you end up with more grandparents than the average child. I had 9; 4 grandfathers and 5 grandmothers. Because of life and distance, I am closer to some than others, but I love them all. The downside to having so many grandparents, is that you have more to lose. I was extremely blessed to avoid a personal loss until I was 23 years old. I received a call that Grandad had been taken to the hospital, and they'd found spots on his lungs. 2 weeks later, he passed away from a brain tumor. As a teenager I have many fond memories of sitting with this man in his living room, listening to the endless stories of living on a farm in Leveland. We shared laughter, stories, and old shows together. Since he was crippled, my Meme was the one who had to work to support their household, and Grandad's love for her dedication to him has always stuck with me. I got to know my Grandad in a way that I think many don't; he was my friend. In some ways he was my best friend. I can still hear him laughing at Tim Conway, and I remember the two of us watching hockey, talking and routing for our team. He'd eat his Blue Bell ice cream with bananas, and I'd soak up every tale he had to offer. I still wonder if he ever knew how much I loved him.

My next loss was that of my Grandpap. Unfortunately, I didn't get to meet him until I was 18 years old, but I am so thankful for the time I had with him. The land and homestead he built is only a part of the legacy he has left behind, and I will be forever grateful to have hugged and loved such a man.

Aside from my mother, if there were ever 2 people who left a lasting impression on me, in my young childhood, it was my Mama and Papa. They not only spoiled me, as grandparents should, but they helped instill a confidence within me that led me to be the woman I am today. I've always said that every little girl deserves to have a Papa like mine, and for some reason God blessed me with him. Every time I heard their voices, in person, over the phone, or recorded, a feeling of complete comfort and love came over me. When the call came that Papa had a brain tumor, and that hospice had been called in, I hurried down to snatch whatever time I had left. It's amazing how love makes you disregard the machines and everything surrounding the one you admire. I sat there, holding Papa's hand, making sure he knew I loved him more than I could express, and his response, "I love you too sugar. Now, go tell Mama to put some money in a bag for you. I don't need it anymore." My response, "Papa, I don't want the money. I want you." He smiled, and closed his eyes for a rest. I'm thankful that although he'll never know the vast influence he's had over my life, I was able to tell him how much I loved him. He is the reason I knew I was worth marrying someone like Bradley.

After Papa's funeral, I told Bradley I was worried about Mama. I didn't think she'd make it without Papa. A year later, her body was laid to rest. There are so many things that make me think of Mama. Home cooked meals; gas ovens; almost any 70's decor; elevator type music played in grocery stores; and the list goes on. My cousin and I used to fight over who would get to ride in the front seat of the grocery cart because we wanted to rub the soft skin on Mama's arm. Although Mama didn't play with us like Papa {he was known to get in trouble for being a big kid - one time he used a McDonald's tray to slide down the slide} she was always there to listen. I'll forever miss her smokey, southern accent.

A month after Mama passed, Grandma Rosey breathed her last. I don't have any pictures of her, but I am grateful to have had her in my life. It had been many years since we'd been a steady part of each others' lives, but I will treasure the memories.

Why? It's so easy to ask "why" when we lose a loved one. But I choose to ask why me? Why was I so blessed to have had such wonderful, loving people in my life? The only answer I can find is God. He knew I'd need these precious souls, and although I don't deserve to have had them, I'll give my thanks. Their influence, their love, is the definition of lasting impressions.

Comfort Cookies and Amazing Animals

Yesterday afternoon, arriving home from playing at the park, the boys enjoyed a snack with a show. Usually we do something somewhat healthy, but for some reason Zachary believed that daddy had said he could have a cookie. Zach is an excellent eater, overall, so his request for a cookie was quite unusual. If Max had asked, it would have been routine, but for Z-man to make this request, I felt the need to check with Steve. He affirmed that a cookie had indeed been promised the night before. He explained that Zachary had a break down the prior evening. One minute my little guy was chilling on the couch, and the next minute he was sobbing, due to the thought of missing me. So, mommy and daddy consoled him, and part of that consoling was baking cookies {Steve even made an emergency run for white chocolate chips}.  I'd had a pretty good week until that moment. I've prayed about it, but am still struggling with some feelings of guilt. Although the cookies looked delicious, I couldn't eat any... for crying out loud, I was the cause for the 'need' for those cookies! I hate this back and forth emotional stuff!  On the flip side, I'm so thankful Zach is able to let it out and share his emotions. Steve and Bev have been champs about it all, and although we're all saddened at my leaving, I feel good that our focus has been on being strong for Zach. I've gotten teary-eyed or choked up a few times with him, but for the most part, I've been able to put my feelings aside until I get home. {Poor Bradley!}

So, to cheer up my Friday, I decided to look over some photos from our zoo trip, last Thursday. Bradley took the day off from school to spend it with the 3 of us, and it was a such blessing! I treasured every intoxicating moment. I believe this was, by far, the best trip we've made, as the slight chill in the air made the animals very lively. We saw elephants swimming, dancing, and wrestling. One of the orangutans flashed the peace sign at the boys. Max was pretty ecstatic, and happily shared his excitement with anyone passing by, pointing to the sky and saying, "monkeys! monkeys!" We learned a lot about the different animals, thanks to the wonderfully informative signs near every animals' home. The boys had so much fun, but the highlight of the day was definitely when we got to see the lion relieve himself...completely. Max is still telling everyone, "tiger poop!" And Zachary is still correcting him that it was a lion, not a tiger. Neither of these two are lacking the natural boy-tendency to be gross and obsessed with bodily functions. Oh boys! ;o)

Checking out the flamingos.

Discussing the difference between antlers and horns.

Do you know? Go learn something new today! ;o) 

This guy was in exactly the same position when

we left the zoo... 4 hours later!

Fascinated by the white rhino.

The actual animal, not Bradley (his football nickname.)

Max singing about the white tiger.

Max, trying to flap his wings too.

Their was an awesome Gigantabugs exhibit!

Zach was so excited to see the scorpions!

Max, wanting to be like "Bubba."

Right before we left, we were able to see the

baby elephants wrestling. How is something

so big still so adorable?

Fishing, Camping, and Seaweed

This past Sunday evening, Bradley and I had the honor of taking my little best friend, Zachary, for his first camping trip. He has wanted to go fishing ever since he watched Little Bear, and saw Little Bear fishing with Father Bear. Bradley and I thoroughly enjoy camping, hiking, and simply being outdoors. Neither of us minds getting our hands dirty, and enjoying God's creation is always a delightful treat. We're hoping this all comes in handy in Cambodia. Not that we're planning on living in a tent, but we're prepared for some camping excursions along the way.

All day Saturday was spent packing, and then with a dinner party that evening, neither Bradley nor I had put a lot of thought into where we'd be camping with our little guy. Lake Ray Roberts, was our fallback, but honestly wished there was something closer, that would still allow us to feel removed from the city. Since rain was in the forecast, we decided that our backyard and/or living room would be the back-up campsite. After Sunday services and collecting Z-man, we gathered our gear from home, and made a Wal-Mart stop on our way out of town. The necessary camping foods had been purchased, and I pulled up directions to Ray Roberts on my phone. We were on our way! With looming storm clouds and an hour drive ahead of us, we were anxious about being able to give Z-man an enjoyable first-time fishing/camping trip, but we pressed on... for 3 minutes. Then, lo and behold! A private, neighborhood pond, still somewhat secluded from city life, appeared on our left. Bradley and I jerked our heads toward one another, reading the same thought in each others' eyes, and he made a quick u-turn for the pond. Zachary was so excited. It was precious. We honestly expected him to cast once or twice, and then grow frustrated or bored and quit. However, something 'magical' happened. My sweet, but not-so-patient little boy stood, stoically, slowly reeling in his line, over and over again. He eventually became frustrated that he wasn't catching anything, but was relieved when he discovered we had not hooked his line yet. He threw his bobber a few more times, and then we tied on his hook without bait. We weren't hoping to catch any fish, as Zach was wanting to eat any we caught, and we were pretty sure this pond was meant for catch and release. It began to sprinkle, but Z-man was determined to catch something. He was growing a little discouraged when, suddenly, he felt a tug on his line. Bradley and I nervously thrust our heads over the fence of the dock, wondering how we were going to tell this child he couldn't keep his catch. Then relief came. He had caught some type of water plant. Both Bradley and I were a little worried Zach would be upset by his accidental catch, but to our surprise, he lit up as he exclaimed, "I did it! I caught some seaweed!" You would've thought the child had reeled in a 50 pound bass. He was so thrilled, that he cast several more times, in an attempt to catch more seaweed. We were ready to throw the 'seaweed' back, when Zach asked if we could cook it over the campfire, and eat it. {YUCK!} So, of course we said yes.

Fishing off the dock

Right before he made his big catch

We piled in the car again, hoping our hour drive would help Z-man forget about the seaweed snack, and again pressed on... for 2 minutes. Then, lo and behold! A blue camping sign with an arrow appeared on our right. Again, our heads jerked toward one another, in shock. We pulled into the check-in office to inquire about this unexpected possibility. The sprinkling had increased to rain at this point, but Zachary still wanted to camp outside, in a tent. We were blessed with a site where someone had just departed, having left 3 large logs burning in the fire pit. We began to set up our home front, and with a tarp and rain fly, we were able to transform a rainy mess into a cozy evening. Hot dogs, Cheetos, and marshmallows were on the menu, and Zachary was kind enough to remind us about the seaweed. I tried to explain that it wasn't like the seaweed we eat on sushi, but he was determined to dine on his catch of the day. Salted and cooked, Z-man took a bite... and that was the end of that. The rest was thrown into the fire. ;o) We enjoyed the rest of the night with games, books, and blessed sleep.

Cooking dinner, undisturbed by the rain

Thanks Bradley for setting up our shelter!

A mouthful of s'more

Thank you Zach. We could've imagined what

it looked like without you showing us. ;o)

Night time glow

Words before this picture, "I'm not sleepy yet."

Angel face. *sigh*

It rained through the night, but was perfect camping weather the next morning. Campfire breakfasts are one of mine and Bradley's faves.

The guys let me sleep in a little, but were

ready to eat when I crawled out of the tent.

Thanks Timo for the chair!!!

Fire is so mesmerizing.

Me and my boy!

All in all, it was a great trip. Pretty great camping for being only 5.3 miles away from home! I'll treasure these memories forever, and from now on, seaweed will always bring a smile to my face. Man I love that kid!

One is not the loneliest number...

A while back, Debbie E. had told me she would be praying for us in our work, as it's a lonely road. She said she wouldn't change what they've done, as it's been an invaluable blessing, but, for us, fears the seclusion missionary work often delivers. As an older, godly woman, and an experienced wife of a missionary, I tucked her words away for safe keeping. I didn't expect to need those words again until I'd arrived in the foreign land which will soon be my home, but here I am, pulling them out into the open. I had not anticipated her advice ringing true before leaving American soil, but the solitary feelings have already begun. There's a song from the late 60's entitled, "One," and it's opening line is, "one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do." As an extroverted introvert, nothing is farther from the truth. Solitude is sweet relief when you're someone who tends to struggle with saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. When I'm alone, no one cares what I say or don't say. No one is offended or upset by anything I do - it's great! ;o)  The thing that is difficult, is when you're alone in a crowd. I've always said, that for me, one of the loneliest places can be a room full of people. For true extroverts, this may sound insane, but if you're an introvert, you probably understand me perfectly. The 3 times Bradley has left the states to travel for mission work, I felt the desire for isolation, or very small groups, preferably 4 or less. The reason is due to the realization of how alone you are in your situation. When either no one, or very few others have experienced the trial you're enduring (regardless of severity), you almost feel as though you have no connection to anyone. Hence, the loneliness of being in a room full of people. Bradley and I often felt tinges of this during our infertility trials, but are now feeling it even more so. Both Bradley and Jonathan have tried to explain to me that a detachment process has to occur for us, and those in our lives, but that doesn't make it any easier to experience. My personality, in most cases, handles detachment quite well, but not when it's a drawn out process. UGH! This whole "count down the weeks, days, hours," stuff is for the dogs! It's weird trying to comfort and hang on, while trying to release and let go. I guess the Lord is wanting me to grow in this area, as it's not one of my strengths. And just what "area" do I mean, TRANSITION. There's that yucky word again. I may not have always handled everything with grace,  but I've never handled transitional times with grace. I tend to be a black and white personality, in most ways, which is probably why this gray area of "this is no longer my home, but Cambodia isn't my home yet either" is biting me in the butt. I am thankful to be moving with 3 of my best friends, but right now, we're all experiencing different emotions at different times. So, again, we're back to one. It helps me, in those moments when I start going all pity-party on myself, to remember that Jesus dealt with A LOT more loneliness than me, especially in a room full of people. I'll do my best to follow His example, but I'm not doing so hot thus far. However, it's such a relief and blessing to know that I'm not truly alone. I just have to keep praying and reminding myself that my heavenly Father is always here with me. Thanks to Him, 'one' is not the loneliest number.

The Prolonged Goodbye

With many prayers under my belt, last night I told my precious Zachary about our move to Cambodia. In some ways it went better than I expected, but it was definitely more emotionally taxing than I'd anticipated. I knew it would be difficult, but I had no idea how much it would overwhelm me right now. I knew that my last day with the boys would be horribly emotional, but as I had been more worried about Zachary's emotional state, I hadn't fully prepared myself. Although my dad and I have a good relationship now, as an abandoned child, my greatest fear and pain has always been to leave that feeling of abandonment with anyone else, especially a child. Looking into his innocent, precious eyes, while explaining to him why we were moving was the hardest thing I've ever done. It's carried over into today, as I recall every little moment. His tears; his questions; his statement of wishing it was "2 weeks instead of 2 years"; and the final heart-ripping moment when he curled into my lap to fall asleep, like he used to do when I'd rock him to sleep everyday. He hasn't done that since he was 2 years old. I hummed the same songs I used to sing to him during those precious moments, as I was unable to get the words out without tears. I remember Vicky D. one time recommending that you take the time to rock your children to sleep because one day you'll wish you could. I'm so grateful for her words of advice, and that I took it to heart with my little Z-man. Those peaceful memories will remain in my heart forever.

This past weekend we attended a camp meeting in Tyler, TX, and some of our family became emotional as it hit them that our departure is drawing near. My MIL said it correctly when she announced that the prolonged goodbye has begun. We had so much encouragement from everyone who spoke to us, as well as comments of cautious concern for our safety, and the emotional state of our family, especially that of our mothers. Several have commented along the lines of, "I don't know if I could let my children do what you're doing," or "I would simply be a mess if my child was going across the world." Well, as gently as I can say it, our moms wouldn't 'let' us go if they didn't recognize the greater cause, and I feel confident that if the day comes for you (if you're one of the moms striving to empathize with our mothers), that you too, would be frustratingly proud that your child would desire to do such a work. If you come across our moms, please don't ask how, simply commend them and let them know you're praying, because although they may hold it together in public, their knees are sore from seeking His wisdom as they work through their emotions.

Wisdom. Such a small word which seems unattainable in some ways. I've been asking the Father for this quality ever since I was 12, and will continue doing so until I no longer need to ask on this side of eternity. These past few months, weeks, and especially days, I am longing for any and all wisdom He is willing to send my way. As I sit here, struggling with the empty feeling of leaving my little boys, I keep approaching His throne, asking for His strength and guidance, and so far His supply appears plentiful. I know He can care for Zachary and Max better than I, or even his parents can, as none of us are immortal, and that thought is keeping me going. I'm also so overly blessed to be going in this modern time, where I can look forward to connecting with them as I see their little faces on Skype, and through photos on social media and email. I hate goodbyes. Of course, I don't know that anyone much enjoys them, but I have to work hard at saying them because I'd rather sneak out and not deal with all of the pesky emotions. Don't worry though, I won't be doing any sneaking on this trip, which is why it is so difficult. If you know me at all, you'll most likely know that I'm not a cryer. I may be very open with my thoughts and life in general, but I tend to be very private with my emotions. {As I sit here and vomit my emotional guts to whoever might decide to read this.} However, I've had so many ask me to share my experiences, and so, that's what I'm doing. As I was saying, I'm not a cryer, and yet I broke down when my cat reached up to love on me this morning. All I kept thinking was, "I'm abandoning you too!" Proverbs 12:10 has come to mind quite often, concerning Bitsy and Oscar. I realize that there are quite a few cat haters out there, but please try to understand. Although I'm sure they don't realize how hurtful their comments can be, some have mentioned simply leaving the door open for the cats to wander out, or just dropping them off in a nearby field. Maybe they need to be going to Cambodia instead of me, since it's easier for them to let go.  But alas, I am the one going, and therefore the one who has to sort through the emotions and details of leaving my comfortable life here for a new one in a new place. It's such a strange feeling to have both excitement for my new home in Cambodia, while dreading each day, as they draw me closer to leaving my loved ones. I suppose it's a similar feeling to not wanting to leave the comfort and love for this earthly life, while yearning for the excitement of the heavenly life to come. In summary, today, my prayer is for God's joy and wisdom to saturate my heart, as I cope with this prolonged goodbye.

The Beginning of the end

Welp, it happened. I had my final Friday with my little boys last week. I'm officially down to 3 days a week. Even though I've been seeing them less and less, this was the first time I was choked up about it all. Don't worry, I'm not about to share a sob story, but am genuinely heart broken about leaving my little guys. I've loved them; disciplined them; painted with them; taught them; fed them; fought the battle of the wills with them; raised them; and loved every moment. At a time when we couldn't have our own children, the Lord was extremely gracious in allowing me to borrow and nurture my precious little Zachary. My serious, logical, little Z-man, who loves reading and asking the most difficult questions about this life. Although he was enough to melt my heart, the Lord blessed Steve and Bev with another little soul, Max. A spunky, happy, and loving Curious George. This family was kind enough to share their blessings with me, and they'll never know how grateful I am for having had this opportunity. God knew I needed a band-aid, and He provided healing for my heart in the forms of Zach and Max. I still have 2 months with them, and I plan to take advantage of every moment. I'm so thankful for Skype and the plethora of technology that will allow me to keep up with these little stinkers as they continue to grow.

Ice cream date, just because. 

Yeah, I love my boys.

This weekend we were in Louisiana for the final Cambodia presentation. Jonathan and Bradley tag-teamed in two different locations, to ensure more brethren could learn about the great work we're about to embark upon. On our way to LA, we were blessed to spend a few hours with ABCP, better known as Aubrey, Carli, and Pierce. It was such a treat to just sit and talk with our sweet brother and sister. As June 12th draws nearer, every moment becomes more precious with family and friends. Bradley caught the cutest video of Pierce,  but it won't let me load it on here for some reason. Ugh! I'll try again later. Just enjoy their still life beauty for now.

 Bro-bro, Carli-tron, and Piercey boy

Once we arrived at our destination, Paul and Alvie were gracious hosts. They are Debbie's parents (she's from DCcoC), and look what fabulous and famous 90's couple we found...

Sunday I heard Bradley's wonderful lesson on The Reconciliation of Christ for the third time, and it's been better each time. We were blessed to spend a short time with the entire congregation in Monroe. It's been neat to see the reaction and excitement for this new work. Although it's been nice to be finished with the presentations, I'm already looking forward to returning with more exciting news from over seas. Jonathan, Marissa, and the kiddos have done a lot more travel than us, and I know they're relieved to be finished. Of course, for Bradley and I, travel is an opportunity to act stupid and make each other laugh. We stopped at Dairy Queen for dessert, and they had an advertisement for a blizzard in a dipped waffle cone. I asked the guy behind the counter if that was for real, and when he said yes, I was happier than a rooster in a chicken coop. Sorry, but the southern bug bit me over the weekend. I have the tendency to take on the accent of those who are around me, and well, I had to make fun of myself for how much twang I'd suddenly acquired. ;o)

Within the past few days, we've managed to handle most of our accounts, insurance policies, etc., as well as begin the rental process. Umm, did I mention we've found renters for our home!?! Yeah, God is pretty awesome. It's funny though. Apparently everyone has been concerned about us finding renters, but that was never really a worry for me. My faith is weird. I don't worry about the big things, like normal people, but rather, it's the little things that test my faith. My thought is, if God wants us to do this work, He's going to carve a way, and, well, there's no way we could afford to go if we didn't rent or sale our home.  However, there are all of these little loose ends that I have to make sure to tie, but thankfully, things seem to be falling into place on that front too. I still have way more piles and boxes of stuff all over my home than I'd care to discuss right now, but answered prayers for peace are allowing me to take it in stride. I know it will get done, little by little, day by day. Quite a few mixed emotions arise from each situation, but right now I'm pretty content. So, with my final Friday at work completed; the final Cambodia presentation finished; and the loose ends getting tighter each day, I think it's safe to say that the 'beginning of the end' has begun. Ciao!