Monday, April 4, 2011

Home

A long day at the hotel. Alone. Doing paperwork, reading. Perhaps a grocery trip or a jog outside thrown in. I may be where I live but I want...

Home = Brandon

He comes in with a smile, expecting a kiss (even if he has to come get it). My day lights up and I feel so much more alive because part of my heart just walked through the door.

Three and a half months in hotels. Maids coming every day. A small kitchen and crowded space with the in-laws and Brandon and me living all together. It's nice to have the company, but I miss....

Home = our fifth-wheel

Our bed. MY kitchen. (Brandon won't argue, he likes my cooking too much.) I can turn the music up while putting my dishes away. Or have it totally quiet as I read when sitting on the floor that I just vacuumed. Space. Room to show who you are in a physical way, through the calendar on the wall and curtains on the windows. (Not to mention that it's way easier to pack our entire house and move than packing just what we have with us now. Nothing has a home! ... Um, I'll pretend I'm smart and say "pun intended.")

On the road for weeks and weeks and months. Seeing new places, towns, states. New grocery stores, coffee shops and job sites. Interesting. But never putting down roots. No church, no friendships being built, no "normal". It's hard to stay in touch with everyone at...

Home = Kansas

Church fellowship and crazy friends. Catching up with everyone and hearing the latest about their lives. The prairie, the big blue sky! And above all, family. Mom and Dad's hugs, the "big" boys with our now grown-up conversations. (Ok, not always grown-up.) The "little" boys as they literally climb all over me until it settles down into constant questions ("Will you read to me?" "Where's Brandon?" "When are you going to have a baby?" "When do you have to leave?" "Can you stay THIS MANY days?" "Where's Austin?"). And my sweet, stubborn baby sister. When she reaches for my hand it's one of the sweetest things in the world.

But my life is disconnected in many ways from Kansas. Realizing how much I'm missing in people's lives, seeing how big the kids are growing. It's bittersweet and often makes me want to cry. Everyone's life is never still. Life moves, grows. There's no such thing as "stagnant" when it comes to friendships and family. You're either moving closer or moving apart...and there's nothing wrong with either. It's simply life. And my heart longs for...

Home = Brandon

The only person I shall always grow closer to. Who is my other half, the completer of my life on earth. Who brings me the most earthly joy (and yes, often the most earthly irritation). Being swept into his arms after being away from him in Kansas is as close to heaven as it gets. Until I go...

Home = Jesus

To be at the Wedding Feast of me and my Bridegroom! To worship and enjoy Him perfectly for all eternity. To know my Father in a pure way, untainted by sin. What perfect fellowship and love and purpose. Forever.

What joy it will be to be Home.

Friday, April 1, 2011

It Takes All Kinds of People


"That second driver just called me and was like, 'Heyawhereya'lla'! Ah'dunnowhaAh'masupposetobegoin' wheredoAhgo, Ah'ma'athisMarcedesdealer, wharyoufromhere?'" Brandon mimicked a mush-mouth, loud accent. "I had to say 'Man, I can't understand a thing you just said.' 'Alrigh'lemmegetwhereAh'ma'figuredout, an'Ah'llcallya’back.’ " Shaking his head, he walked off to show the first driver where to park so he could load the driver’s trailer with the tie bundles. Amanda couldn't help but laugh at Brandon’s impersonation. It sounded like the driver was a "piece of work," as her husband liked to say. 

This was her second time flagging. No one else in the family was available, so Brandon had Amanda come help. This particular job site was tricky, in the middle of a residential area with a plumbing business right next to it and a commuter train station down a block. The paved road was barely wide enough for two vehicles and they were having the semi trucks with their 48' trailers hug the right side of the road on a curve. 

The driver would watch for traffic at the head of the truck and Amanda was positioned at the rear, ready to stop oncoming cars as Brandon placed the bundles of ties on the trailer with his Bobcat skid-loader. See a car coming, check with the driver to make sure the coast was clear the other direction, have Brandon pause his work when he was off of the road, wave the car through, stand and watch for more. Simple. 

The first truck was finished quickly, with around seven vehicles to "flag." The second driver was supposed to be right behind the first, but Brandon still hadn't heard back from him. As he was about to call the driver, Brandon's cell phone rang.

“Hello, this is Brandon." His typical response. “Yeah, I was about to ca…”

He was cut off as the guy interrupted, a loud mumble as Amanda listened to the conversation. “You need to exit at 15B…”

More mumbled words.

“What do you mean, you don’t see highway 118...”

Again, the loud mumble.

By now Brandon was shouting, “So you did exit at 15B, ok, sir, you’re ON Rt. 118. Now you need to go 1.3 miles to Dawson Farm Road, take a left. Please hit your odometer, go 1.3 miles…”

Mumble, mumble.

“Yes, 1.3 miles. Then go one block to Liberty Mill Road, it’s the first stoplight.”

Mumble.

“The first stoplight! Yes. Then take a left. A left!”

Mumble.

Brandon hung up. “Wow, I don’t know how long it’s been since I yelled on the phone at a truck driver like that!”

Amanda grinned. “Stay calm, he probably can’t help being stupid! Compassion, Brandon. Maybe he’s retarded.” Her goal wasn’t to insult the absent driver, but to make Brandon smile. It worked as they walked to his Dodge, his disgusted expression changing to laughter as he shook his head. They drove to the closest intersection the driver was going to turn on to so they could lead him to the job site.

The minutes ticked by, with no driver. Brandon sighed, “We’re going to have to go find him.”

“Well, I just hope he isn’t as much of a doofus when it comes to flagging as he is when it comes to driving,” Amanda said.

As Brandon put his truck into first gear, a semi rounded the corner. “Finally! Here we go…” They looped back around to the job site and Amanda jumped out of the truck to direct the driver where to pull to the side of the road, as Brandon went around the corner to park his truck and equipment trailer.

As Brandon began to load the truck, Amanda’s fears were confirmed as the driver (identity protected because the author never learned his name) proceeded to move out of her line of sight, blocked by his tractor. When a car came up on her side of the truck, she couldn’t see the driver to find out if the coast was clear on his side of the curved road. She shrugged at Brandon as he paused the Bobcat, and waved the car through, trying to let them know they needed to drive slowly. Amanda shook her head, feeling some of the frustration Brandon had earlier. “He’d better not cause an accident,” she muttered under her breath.

Thankfully they only had four bundles to load. This truck would have a split load, which meant part of his load was at another job site. While that unfortunately meant they would need to have this truck driver follow them over there, at least there was no traffic to flag at that site. 

“Only two vehicles. Thank You, God!” Amanda picked up the traffic cone as she followed the truck around the corner. Brandon was having all of the semis simply pull up behind his truck to strap their loads down, since it was on a straight stretch of residential road instead of a blind curve.

She came up to where Brandon was standing and stopped to watch the truck with him. “Um. What is he doing?” she asked, puzzled.

“I have no idea! I told him to nose up to the rear of my trailer.”

The driver was in front of Brandon's truck by a couple truck lengths, instead of behind it. He was creeping along the side of the street, apparently trying to get close enough to the curb to park. The semi inched its way up until it was a full block and a half away from where it was suppose to be.

“Sweetheart, would you mind standing near the middle of his truck and make sure no cars hit him or each other?” Brandon walked off, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to get the Bobcat loaded up so we can get him out of here as soon as possible. Tell him to hurry up!”

Walking over to the semi, she stood in the grass opposite the trailer, watching as the driver slowly got out of his truck and slowly began to strap the load down.

“Aw, wha’ a day, huh?” He shook his head, apparently slightly disgusted. His cell phone rang at that moment and Amanda turned her head aside, trying not to giggle as he said, “Yea’ can Ah call ya’ back? Ah’m tryin’ to finish strappin’ a load.”

It seemed to take him forever to put three straps on each of the two rows of ties. Amanda thought it was a good thing that she was flagging instead of Brandon since she could find more humor in the situation than he probably would. As it was, Brandon ended up walking over to where the semi was parked before the driver was three quarters of the way done. Brandon already had his Bobcat loaded onto his equipment trailer and chained down, along with all the construction signs cleaned up.

After the driver was finally finished, they pulled away to drive to the other job site. Brandon smiled slightly. “You know, I wonder if you were right about him being retarded.”

“Yeah, I was wondering as I watched him strap. If so, it’s only slightly, but still…” Amanda smiled back at Brandon. It was good to laugh about a rather frustrating man instead of being mad. Misplaced compassion, or even misplaced humor, was much better than misplaced anger.