I am not good at saying goodbye.

I don’t like it, the goodbye part that is. I put off saying goodbye until the absolute last minute, no drawn out goodbyes from me. Each friend of mine fills my life in a unique way, kind of like the way evangelicals talk about the Jesus-shaped vacuum in everyone’s hearts. I have the Jesus vacuum as well–except it’s not a hole, it’s filled with Jesus, but you know what I mean–but I also have friend shapes that feel, well, vacuous when that friend is gone from my every day world.

One of my dearest friends moved away last spring. Julie had seen me through every stage of my adult life thus far… Dating, engagement, marriage, struggles within marriage, joys within marriage, desiring children but still waiting for them, then adoption, infancy and toddlerhood. I had envisioned hosting her daughters’ bridal showers someday in the future and, like other women at Zion, I imagined sharing stories about how I remember when her mother was nine months pregnant with the bride and how she was so ready to deliver. But within two weeks of a job change, Julie’s family moved. It felt like a bandaid had been ripped off, quick yet painful.

I’ve known about today’s goodbye for sometime now, and it was actually prolonged by several weeks, so the bandaid metaphor clearly doesn’t apply. I am wholeheartedly behind the O’Donnells’ move to Japan, yet my support doesn’t lessen the sadness I feel by the Jamie-shaped vacuum in my heart. Jamie, Bryan & Jones have been an integral part of our community dinners for the last 18 months, and as such, they have become like family. It’s nearly impossible to break bread with someone every single week and not become something of a tight knit community. It’s been a joy to see Bryan & Jamie: The Newlyweds turn into Bryan & Jamie: The Parents. And then there’s Jones, who I got to hold and love on from his birth last March to his toddling days last week. Suffice to say there will be a piece of us missing when we next gather for a meal at Brook’s place.

Okay, so I don’t like goodbyes. I cry the ugly cry (as Oprah says) and feel like weeping for hours afterwards. But I suppose the goodbyes are themselves are only testaments to how treasured these friendships have been. As a Christian, I can say with utmost confidence that the story of these dear friends is not over yet. The goodbyes I cry over today are not the final goodbyes; eternity is yet to come.

From my daily calendar…

Lewis Carroll introduced the notion of pormanteau words in Through the Looking-Glass where Humpty Dumpty says to Alice:

‘Well, “slithy” means “lithe and slimy”. “Lithe” is the same as “active”. You see it’s like a portmanteau—there are two meanings packed up into one word.’

**Ten Prairie Box points to anyone who contributes a few portmanteau words in the comments section.

Kira, the beautiful and sweet Siberian Husky that belonged to Jeremy’s parents, died last weekend. Jeremy bought her some 12 years ago and trained her well. When he left the country for a year in Europe, his parents took her home–and she lived happily with them from that point on.

Kira was absolutely one of the kindest dogs I’ve ever met. She was obedient, patient, and fun-loving, and she had the strongest hunting tendencies I’ve ever seen. My very first exposure to her is wrapped up in the beginning of my relationship with Jeremy. Jeremy wanted to get to know me better so, under the guise of relational youth ministry, he asked if my younger brother and I would join him on a Sunday afternoon trip to a state park with his dog. When he showed up at our house after church, I actually turned him down with the excuse of college homework or something (poor guy!) which left him now being relational with Andrew alone. But it was Kira who stole the limelight in that moment. In front of my house, she bound out of the Jeremy’s car and instantly trapped a squirrel in a sapling of a tree. A bunch of neighborhood boys surrounded the scene and cheered on the hunting wolf (as least that’s probably how they saw her). In no time at all, the squirrel was hopelessly caught in Kira’s strong jaw, squealing his pitiful squirrely death-squeal for help–which sent me running for the house. An empathetic animal-lover wuss all my life–I actually left the movie theater bawling when wolf got shot in Dances with Wolves–the dying squirrel sounds were more than I could handle. Ah, what a first impression from Kira!

The Husky played more of a role in my courtship with Jeremy as we successfully went on many walks through the dog run and other parks. I’ll always remember her joy at seeing Jeremy when we drove up to Bill & Karen’s house, her special invitation to come in the house one time each year (Christmas for a dog treat and bone), her sweet sniffing when meeting Livia for the first time, her gentleness with Livia for the past three years.

Kira has been a joy. She will be missed.

Me: [Trying to get the attention of the Blockbuster Dude who always ignores me] I’m looking for a movie called Bella.

Blockbuster Dude: Huh?

Me: Bel-la. The director has a Latin-sounding name. I couldn’t locate the film on Blockbuster Online.

Blockbuster Dude: [Using computer] We don’t have it.

Me: O-kay.

Blockbuster Dude: I’ve never even heard of it.

And then I sang my own little ditty about the lame ass guy at Blockbuster on the way home. Seriously, between not having Bella or Helvetica, and this unhelpful clerk, Blockbuster is making me crazy.

The wee lad getting some extra air

Stats on my hand

Six weeks early, but this little guy looks absolutely perfect to me. Though it’s been a joy to watch his mama’s tummy grow, we’re thrilled Gooper is here at last. Both Renae and Simon are doing really well. Congratulations to the Moreheads!

It’s difficult, if not impossible, for me to pick my favorite Owen shot from yesterday’s mini photo shoot. Those eyes, those cheeks!

Can you tell who is ready to be a big sister? Liv desperately wanted to feed Owen his bottle, make him laugh, talk to him and hold him. She’ll be a great helper when the next little Tred arrives. She did seem a bit eager to say goodbye when Owen’s mom showed up, though… And ready to take her rightful position in my lap once he was gone. Guess we’ll have to figure out lap-sharing some other day.

When it’s 5 degrees outdoors and you leave a warm building, the cold smacks your forehead like a sledgehammer.

When it’s 0 degrees and you’re going to bed, your house feels very cold even though the thermostat hasn’t been turned down yet.

When it’s less than 0 degrees and your daughter awakes in the middle of the night and her head feels like a frozen popsicle, you open the heating grate she closed earlier in the day and pile another blanket on her little bed, knowing she’s alive and well (at least enough to wake up Mommy) albeit a little chilly.

When it’s -2 degrees and feels like -12 (or so says Weather.com) and you wake up in the morning, you feel you deserve a medal for being the first out of bed to crank up the heat.

When it’s this cold in the Lincoln, Nebraska, you wish you had invested in long underwear and face masks during the after-Christmas sales. Either that or you stay inside all day with plans to watch Pixar movies and bake peanut butter cookies.

The news of Heath Ledger’s death is tragic and shocking. This actor was incredibly talented, full of potential, and chose unique roles at every turn. His smile lit up the big screen and warmed millions of girls’ hearts in 10 Things I Hate About You and A Knight’s Tale. (Haven’t seen them? They’re both fun flicks.)

What a crying shame…

I love movies. And because I love movies, I love it when Oscar nominations are released. Here they are. Who are you rooting for this year?

All three of us were stricken this weekend by what I can only assume was the Plague. The Plague has hit almost everyone we know this winter… Many of the Lawtons over Christmas. Livia’s preschool two weeks ago. Friends, friends and more friends. And finally, the Tredways.

The benefit, as far I can tell, about all of us getting sick at once is that we get it over with. The drawback is that both Jeremy and I were exceedingly worn out at exactly the same time and it was all we could do to walk up and down stairs, much less care for Livia, who wasn’t quite as sick as we were. The climax of our exhaustion came last night when we needed to put sheets on Liv’s mattress and get our wound-up daughter to bed. Amid my 100.8 and his 101.9 degree fevers, the task looked something like climbing Everest. Totally impossible. Yet somehow it happened successfully. Bitty Boo slept 12 hours straight and Jeremy and I slept hard as well.

Today we’re dining on Gatorade, toast and bananas. (Thanks again, Dad, for the groceries.) Surely tomorrow will be an even better day with a little peanut butter thrown in for good measure.