20,819 days later~

My mom always liked to tell the story of how when she was pregnant with me and had gone into labor in preparation for my delivery, that her doctor was nowhere to be found.  Seems that the good "Doc Schmidt" had decided to go out drinking and dancing with his wife at one of the local clubs in Newton, Kansas at about the same time that a little baby named Peggy decided it was time to find out what this "being born" stuff was all about.  His nurses tried for several hours to find him to let him know that Lois Scott needed him and she needed him RIGHT NOW! They were having no luck at all.

I was baby #6 for my mom and with that in mind, the nurse (a Catholic nun named Sister Marietta) told my mom not to worry.  "We don't need him anyway Lois.  You and I have gone through this together five times before!" At just about the time that I would be ready to deliver, they heard his footsteps coming down the hallway, whistling a tune as if he hadn't a care in the world.  I don't know what my mom or Sister Marietta said to him, but I'm gonna guess that knowing my mom, it probably wasn't said with a "happy face" on.  At 10:32 in the morning I arrived and when Dr. Schmidt held me upside down and gave me my first birthday spanking, I started out on this journey called "life".  My father gave me the name "Peggy Ann Scott" and upon my conception, my parents' blood became mine and now so many years later as I type this, I realize just how special that makes me. 

20, 819 days later here I am, on the eve before I reach my 57th year.  This has been a strange week, a tough one, a REALLY rough one and I'm not kidding.  Without going into detail, just suffice it to say that I am surely hoping to never have another one like it again.  I guess some weeks are like that, not sure why though.  How well I now understand in life why it's good that we never know what lies ahead of us~how most of us would never have the courage to get out of bed in the morning if we did know.  I am positive beyond the shadow of a doubt that I would be one of the "afraid".  

Earlier this week, I lost my voice and it wasn't the kind of losing your voice that happens when you have a bad cold or laryngitis.  Rather, it was the kind of "losing your voice" that happens when you simply don't know what to say.  At times it seemed to be a depressing kind of week for one reason or another.  Every day it has seemed as though something has gone wrong and try as I might to fix it, there are just some things that are out of my hands.  Usually when I feel like that, sitting down at the computer and pounding on the keys to write a blog post is a sure cure for it.  But not this time.  I tried to no avail as I sat there looking at a very blank screen.   For two days I just didn't know what to say.  For some reason, the words are finally starting to come forth.

I must admit that I do not understand life sometimes~do you ever feel the same?  You know, here you are going along life's way, truly minding your own business and doing the best you can under some trying circumstances.  Then all of a sudden, out of the blue, things change in a moment's time and what you thought was safe and secure ends up being not the way you hoped it would turn out to be.  And you know what friends?  That can end up being a little scary, even for the bravest of souls.

The journey of Peggy Miller hasn't even been close to what my dear and sainted grandmother, Bessie Scott, would have called the journey down the "straight and narrow".  My life's road is a series of turns, hills and roads filled with giant potholes.  I am an alumni of "the school of life" and I keep having to go back for refresher courses now and again.  Pretty sure they will always save a seat for me there LOL.  The events of this week have just further proven to me that I am not, nor have I ever been, in charge of the events of my life.  Someone much smarter and greater than I will ever profess to be is in charge of my life, in charge of "the plan".  As I enter the first day of my 57th year tomorrow, I pray to continue to be cognizant of that fact and by so doing, my life may be somewhat easier.

I have a big day tomorrow~taking off a personal day from school to remember the blessings of reaching yet another year of life. Lots of things to do.  I plan to make a special journey over to my mom and dad's graves~to leave something for my mom.  Every year for the past 20 years or so I'd always sent her flowers on my birthday, thanking her for not stopping with child #5.  She always understood what I was talking about and rather than fussing about my buying them for her, Mom just said we'd enjoy them together.  When she died in 2007, the tradition stopped.  Tomorrow on the first day of my 57th year, it begins again.  I always wondered how they did it~how they raised 7 children that were spread out over a span of 17 years.  The older I have gotten, the more the realization sinks in how blessed I was to be born into this world in the first place.  

Friends, if your mom or dad are still living, please call them~if only to say that you were thinking of them.  I'll see mine in Heaven someday....until then, I just remember that my life is all a "part of the plan".  Good night everyone! 

Two of the women who had the greatest of impacts on the life of one young girl.  My mom, Lois Scott and my maternal grandmother, Bessie Belle Scott.  Both of them gone now~always will remember and love them.  (at Haven on Labor Day of 1978)