fifth of May

Cinco de Mayo is a day that brings up all kinds of emotions for me. First of all, it's Amy Grace's birthday! She was born just a few weeks before I graduated from high school, which makes her 8 years old... I can hardly believe it.

Secondly, it was Mrs. Carr's birthday. I mentioned in this post that I could and probably should write an entire post about her. Today seemed to be fitting.

Mrs. Carr was the single hardest working person I have ever known.

She...

...was adamant about her yard. Plants were covered with blankets to withstand the cold and she mowed and mowed and mowed until everything was perfect.

...dusted the slats of her blinds (maybe that's common...) and every nook and cranny of her house. You could eat off any surface at their home- even though she lived with 3 boys and any number of dogs.

...loved and served her boys more than anyone I can imagine.

...was the tiniest little person with the biggest smile and heart.

...cooked a TON, but rarely ate what she made.

...broke a rib one time because Peter hugged her too hard.

...single-handedly ran everything about Calvary's booster club, and she never, ever missed a basketball/soccer/baseball game.

...called me one time and asked me to come over - just to hang out with her - because she was surrounded by boys.

...defeated breast cancer, but we ultimately lost her in 2007.

Late one night, after a round of capture-the-flag no doubt, a neighbor had a carbon monoxide leak. I only remember this event because it was well after midnight, but Mrs. Carr was still up baking dozens and dozens of cookies, probably for something at school. Although this particular memory sticks out in my mind, I know there were hundreds of other occasions where she was doing the same thing. Their house was alllways full of friends, and everyone was always welcome. You could show up at the Carrs' house any hour of the day and be served a giant meal. On low-key holidays when it was just my immediate family, I would finish our meal then run around the corner and hang out with the Carrs- they always had enough food to feed a small army.

The last time I spent time with Mrs. Carr, she was ironing (of course) and we were catching up. I was telling her about a few wayward friends, and she stopped, sat down and cried. That memory will stay with me forever because she cared SO much. About everyone.

I miss her. I miss calling 706-571-0320 and not having to identify myself. I hate that my David only met her one time (though I'm thankful that he did).

I encourage people not to have regrets, but my biggest (and probably only) regret in life was not driving to Columbus the night we knew she was leaving us. I spent many tearful hours on the phone with Peter and other friends as we anticipated what was becoming the inevitable, and I didn't make the drive from Birmingham. Of course, my dad was there through it all, and he is amazing during times like that. I still wish I could have seen her one last time...

I am so thankful for Linda Carr's influence on my life. I have an amazing mom, and a handful of other women that have helped shaped who I am today. Mrs. Carr is at the top of that list. She taught me more about hospitality and servant leadership than anyone ever could, and I am forever indebted to her.

I cannot wait to get to heaven and hug her neck. I'm sure the cookies and kool aid will be waiting!

*I know this is a total random assortment of disjointed thoughts, but... it's my blog and this is how it came out.

**Add/Edit:
My dad sent me this beautiful email, and it was only appropriate to include it:

the h
Dear, dear Emily --


Linda wasn't so adamant about her yard as she was a perfectionist and certainly a tireless worker. Once, walking the neighborhood, I noticed her mowing her yard diagonally one way, then 90 degrees the other way to be sure to get every blade of grass! Even during her breast cancer chemeo treatments.

I was with her in her hosptial room at 6 am on 8/21/2007 -- we chatted for an hour before other folks came to wish her well in surgery and get her ready -- she died that day so very unexpectedly.

She left her handprint and a gaping hole in eart of those who loved her.

In the days after her passing I doodled (on a napkin) the gates of heaven welcoming her with a shiny new lawn mower with a ribbon tied on it; and another, with tiny Linda in the distance (in heaven) mowing endless grass in her cross-hatched pattern; and still another (same napkin), with a tiny head barely above the stainless kitchen counter at Calvary School surrounded by heaps and heaps of freshly baked cookies.

A true Saint. While we cherish her memory she remains with us.

Great blog, honey.

Love Always ,

dad