high flying style

Check out our fashions! Me flying a kite.

Today is Mother’s Day, and I went to church.  That in itself was quite an accomplishment, as I’d prayed long and hard before deciding whether or not I wanted to fight the emotional uphill battle of celebrating Mother’s Day publicly.  Not for any deficiency on my dear Mother’s part, to whom I am most grateful, but for my own personal reasons.  It seems like each year, it gets harder and harder to wait, especially when my health makes following my dreams increasingly difficult as time goes by.

But I MADE IT to church, and I felt lead by the Lord to share a word of encouragement (read previous post).  After church I hung around for a while, talking with other women mostly, socializing, encouraging when I could.  Sundays are my main “social outlet,” as other times of the week it seems like the most socialization I get is whatever I make for myself by talking to other patients at my doctors’ appointments.  Besides, most doctors…I’d HARDLY call them “social” animals!

I came straight home and crashed.  My brain was buzzing with 1,000 thoughts all swirling around at once with little energy left with which to rein them in.  I just needed to sleep!  Sleep would not come, however, so I just rested for a few hours with my eyes closed and my brain buzzing.  Finding this less than restful, however, I decided it was time to get busy again.  I needed something to do.

I paid a few bills, ate a snack, and Mike knocked on the door around 5:30pm.  He wondered if I wanted to do something fun.  “I gotta get you outta this house!” he said.  It was a truly gorgeous day outside, couldn’t ask for better, and I’d spent a few hours with all the curtains pulled shut.  The temperature was almost perfect for my legs too, so there was no excuse to stay inside.  A few days earlier he’d said we should go for a walk, but I wasn’t feeling up to it.  Today, however, I felt like walking might actually do my weary brain some good if nothing else; a good distraction.  So I suggested we take a walk and we decided to hit the pavement at South Park.

beach mike brother

My Brother – Dang was that boy cute, even in pink!

While there, the wind wasn’t real strong but the US flag on the ball field stood out consistently so I thought it would be fun to fly my dollar store kite!  😀  I love flying kites but I don’t own any other than this dollar store one…it may be a future investment.  I’ve been trying to find some new hobbies that are stress-relieving, low-cost, and that give my brain and emotions a mini-vacation, some little hobbies I can do at least once a week to help me keep a balance in my life.

When I was a kid, my Dad bought a few kites.  He had several stunt kites, and I believe my brother and I just had stowaway deltas.  In our 1990’s high fashion styles, we hit the beach with pizzazz.  I feel like I’ve forgotten so much of our childhood, but I do remember flying the kites.  I remember feeling so proud of my smart Dad who I believed could fly ANY object he attached to a string.

Meanwhile, my brother made the beach look cute.  Whose idea was it to dress him in pink anyways?  Oy!  He even had matching pink and black sandals!  Mom??  We need to talk.

kite delta

One of my Dad’s kites in the air.

Anyways, I guess kites are associated with happy, though fashion-challenged, moments in my life so I’d like to try flying them again.  Seems relaxing.

Mike and I busted out our proudly pink dollar store find only to realize we had not the faintest idea of how to get the thing up in the air!  It looked all backwards, the string coming off the wrong end.  We must have tried to fly that kite for 1/2 an hour if not more.  Eventually I went into problem-solver mode and started reworking the kite’s strings and attachment points.  Perhaps I should have just googled using my phone to figure out “how to fly dollar store kite” or something, but Mike and I were laughing so hard at our failed and humiliating attempts to fly this kite that I figured I’d just have fun instead.

The kite was “flying” more like a fish out of water flops against the sand.  It was pathetic.  We made a few adjustments.  Then the kite wanted to fly upside down, with its tail in the air and its top facing the ground.  Nope, that won’t work.  So we took the tails off and attached them to the “top” of the kite to see if that would redistribute the weight and get it to fly correctly.  Nope.  We did get a little closer when we moved the “t” bar up a bit.  In the end, I have no pictures of our kite in the air because, well, it never really made it that far.  

Mike ducking from a crazy kite attack.

Mike ducking from a crazy kite attack.

That's almost as high as it ever got!

That’s almost as high as it ever got!

But our sides were splitting with laughter as Mike released the kite in the wind, I held the string, and the crazy kite would spiral around randomly, nearly knocking poor Mike in the head…he kept ducking for his life after letting go.  Crazy driver?  Maybe.  You probably could have heard me laugh for a mile – you know how I laugh when I’m comfortable and letting go – EVERYONE in my town seems to know my laugh.  In fact, whenever I go to my bank, they hear me coming often before they see me and they say “Hi Sarah!”

I barely had strength to make it back to the car, but as we went I said, “Mike, even though that kite never flew, it was worth the $1 for the laughs alone!”  And it surely was!  Next time I’ll try the $2 kite, however….

I was hunkering for a bag of Target’s Archer Farms Mediterranean frozen steamer veggies.  You know, it doesn’t take much to make me happy.  Just sayin’.  🙂  So we went to target, I bought 6 bags of my favorite veggies, and we came home.  Now I’m late getting to bed because I just HAD to find those old kite flying pictures from childhood.

I had another experience of fun and enjoyment, separated from my to-do list, that I can file away on those rainy or stressful days.  At one point Mike said “I’d like to do something nice for you.  What can I do for you?”  It was a sweet gesture.  In my mind, however, just flying a kite with me or helping me get my wheelchair in and out of the car countless times, or trying my cooking (you’re brave), or just getting me out of the house, helping me focus on something good…these are real gifts to me that don’t necessarily require money or anything more than time and care.  Making some happy memories with me that I can use help me continue living through the pain…how can someone understand how special and significant these “little things” are to me?

Over time, the lighter, littler things really do add up to something significant.

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