GPS...

I got lost less than a mile away from my house the other day. GPS and all, I drove the same loop twice before I realized where I was. Lost--four little letters that seem surreal to me at times yet for about twenty minutes last Thursday, that’s exactly what I was; well off my plan A.

The last few months have been a blur and if this year has proven anything, it’s that plans can change on a dime.

I started laughing at myself when I realized where I was. Then I realized that if I would have just trusted my gut, I would’ve made the correct turn the first time. The rest of the short drive home I thought about the notion of trusting my gut juxtaposed with that of trusting the GPS. The notion that GPS is programmed by someone sitting in front of a computer interpreting points on a map that may well not be exactly where I’m located isn’t lost on me. Areas change and maps fall out of date but we see things in real time. GPS doesn’t know that you don’t always like to take the highway. Sometimes the backroads are where you find the good stuff. GPS doesn’t realize that you don’t always want to cut through neighborhoods to save five minutes.

Like it or not, sometimes we find ourselves smack dab in the middle of plan B and you know what? That’s not always a bad thing. Last week plan B took me to a new smoothie place that just so happens to carry my favorite protein powder.

The Queen of the World...

My grandma was my first babysitter and the woman who bought me my first lipstick, pinning it inside my pocket so I wouldn’t lose it on my way home from her house. She taught me how to make peanut butter fudge from scratch and let me drink coffee from the time I was barely old enough to manage the warm mug. She let me sit on the counter and eat bits of pie dough when she made cherry pie. She was the first to step beside me when my family of origin splintered, taking my hand and assuring me we’d find a way forward and walk the hard days together. She bettered my love of music via the Mills Brothers and Sam Cooke. She let me stay home from school on my birthday and was the first to remind me my parents weren’t always right and that I really could be anything I wanted to be. She was a soft place to land when I needed a shoulder and a sharp opponent when I needed to be challenged. She was big and loud and bossy and over the top and I loved her to the depth of my soul.

I hear her wit in my son’s jokes and see her spirit in the way my mom loves my kiddo—just like my grandma loved me. And thankfully, I see a glimmer of her fierceness when I look in the mirror. I find myself thinking about her so much these days and I'm grateful every week when I stop by to visit her gravesite. I love how she's there now watching over Brett Patterson but oh how I wish I could get her opinion on things and pull her old school wisdom into the chaos of today. How I wish she could listen to Sam Cooke with my son because he loves Sam now, too. How I wish he could watch her play piano and they could just do music together. How I wish my son could know her. I always miss her but today I feel her absence deeply and profoundly. She just made life better. Happy #100, Grams. You are forever in my heart. #QueenOfTheWorld