Go Dog Go

Go Dog Go is the very first book I ever read. Agreed, I probably memorized it from my dad reading it to me so many times, but still, it was my favorite. If you've never read it, you should- it's beginner's reading book and it's fantastic. It's basically about dogs in cars. And at the end they go to a party. One of my earliest memories is crawling onto my dad's lap and reading this together. To this day, it's still his favorite story to tell about my childhood.

With Father's Day coming up, I felt that I should dedicate a blog to my dad, and all dads/daddies/papas/pops out there! I am my dad's only biological child, and I got a lot of attention. I had one of those hands-on dads- he was never too busy to play, teach me how to ride my bike, read to me, or prune me to be a CMSU graduate. We baked cakes together one night a week, which would feed the family during snacks for the rest of the week.

My dad was at every school function, even when I was in 5th grade and got the "lead role" in a silly skit about the sun and the moon, and no other parents came, but both of my parents and grandparents were there! He even almost got fired when he told his boss that he'd be taking the morning off to take me to my first day of kindergarten. We played a duet together at my piano recital. We watched South Park in its very early days (much to my mother's dismay). When he bought a racecar (I'm still convinced that was a midlife crisis) I sat in the stands and cheered for him every week.

My dad's my best friend- he gets me like no one really does. I'm proud to be his daughter, and I'm proud to have a dad like him- because he's the "cool dad". Everyone who meets him tells me how awesome he is. What I really like is the way he can meet and talk to anyone and instantly that person likes him. He calls it his "salesman ability". I see a lot of my dad in Adam, even though at the beginning I didn't see it. All the things I love about my dad- I love about Adam, too.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

Love, Gully

I fell in love over the weekend.

I fell in love with Adam all over again this weekend. I think that there's some sort of camraderie that forms when you work side by side together. I've noticed how close I feel to him when we work out at the gym, and it was the same kind of bond that we had as we unpacked and organized donations this weekend.

We cried together as we drove through Joplin, we got angry together when we saw tourists snapping pictures of the rubble. As we met his family, he smiled at me with this geniune adoration as I told stories I've told a million times. A weekend away from the hustle and bustle of our routine and our every day lives was exactly what we needed.

When I look at his grandfather, I see Adam. I can imagine Adam at 90 years old, because that's Chester. He's wise, smart, cultured, and witty. He loves his family but he's anything but naive. Last week someone said to me, "Adam really is charming. The first time I met him, I knew he was very intelligent." That's exactly how I felt when I met him. He was well-read; an eloquent speaker; he was wonderful. He is wonderful.

He makes me smile and laugh, and I am so glad we had this weekend together because it really put us back together. The stresses of our lives melted away. It was the simple things this weekend; driving together for three hours; stopping at the cheese factory for samples and Adam telling me he'd buy me the $13 block of Gruyere if I wanted it, and me, politely declining because it was too much; getting Olive Garden desserts to go and sitting with our legs crossed on the bed, plastic silverware in front of us, Adam spooning himself a bite and then watching the look on my face when I tasted the delicious cake. He smiles- a geniune, loving, sweet, wonderful smile. It's easy. It isn't forced.

He adores me, and I kinda like him too.

Home Sweet Home (A Reflection)

Today is the last day of my weekend, and we are finally home from Joplin. I am still so deeply troubled by what I saw there. I took a fully charged camera with me, but I didn't snap a single picture. I had intended on taking pictures and sharing what I saw with friends and family. However, once we got there, it was a whole different feeling. I felt like a voyeur as we drove past families in their yards, amid rubble and memories of their whole lives. I instantly felt that taking pictures of people's devastation and pain was disrespectful of the dead and the living.

The first day that we were in Joplin, we drove down Rangeline Rd. I thought what I saw there was the extent of the damage, but I was so very wrong. On Rangeline, part of the business district, tops of buildings were caved in, a chinese restaurants 20 ft tall metal sign was twisted and bent, lying parallel to the ground.

As we turned onto 20th St to drive to dinner,  I soon realized that Rangeline was lucky. 20th St had more damage that anything I had seen so far. Houses were flattened; naked tree branches jutted into the blue sky, with blunt edges, severed with chainsaws. Eerie sights were abound- free standing refrigerators, bricks in toppled messes, branches... street signs were gone, and the street names were spray painted onto the asphalt, giving direction to travelers who couldn't find their way... even Joplin residents who had grown up on the streets were lost on the wrecked streets.

At night we pulled into our hotel parking lot, next to a van with all of its windows blown out. They were covered with plastic bags, and the inside was filled to the brim with all of the remnants of their lives. Clothes, dishes, anything that could be salvaged from their home, was now in their van. In front of the room was the family, a man in a wheelchair with a broken leg. I gave him a sympathetic smile and he returned it. My heart ached for him.

We take our lives for granted sometimes, and my experience in Joplin has made me hold Adam a little closer, spend a little more time with my family and be grateful, and so thankful for my home, job, car, belongings. Knowing that it could be wiped away in one powerful storm is the most humbling experience of all.

I'll end on a happy note: Joplin is struggling, but they have resolve. They are a city of great courage and I admire them. God loves Joplin- people from all over have rallied together to help this city pick up the pieces. Free food was given out on every street corner- churches, civic organizations, kids, senior citizens- they gave what they could. They gave their time, energy, money, donations- as if to say, "You're not alone in this, Joplin. We love you."

A Volunteer's Heart

On May 22, 2011, a powerful tornado swept through Joplin, MO, crushing a path six miles wide. While a tornado is devastating to any town, it takes on a whole new meaning when the town is close to your heart. I had never been to Joplin before I met Adam. His family is here- his parents both grew up here- and when we started dating we started coming to Joplin to visit his aunt and grandparents. I fell in love with Joplin- and when the tornado struck, I felt helpless- but I still wanted to help. Now we're here, almost two weeks later, and the destruction can't be put into words.

We arrived this morning and went to MSSU where we reported for volunteer service. We were informed that fieldwork (IE debris cleanup) was already full, so we would be going to a "warehouse" to sort through donations. I prayed that this warehouse was air-conditioned as temperatures climbed to 98 degrees. We loaded a school bus and were let off at the Joplin Regional Airport warehouse.

As we walked in, things were a mess. There were kids toys, canned goods, toilet paper, paper towels, deodorant... anything that you could ever imagine. I was instantly overwhelmed. An older woman, Cici, announced that everything had its place and each pallet needed to be sorted. I started ripping open bags and sorting.

One of the men that was working next to me said to me, "You know, I wish they would have just donated money." That kind of struck me. I thought at first, how dare he say that! These people gave from their hearts. But then I realized- he was right.

I felt that the donations, while given with good intentions, were overwhelming for volunteers, who instead could be helping cleaning up Joplin's crushed homes. As a volunteer, you shouldn't ask, "What can I give?". Instead, you should ask, "What do they need?" The answer to that is: money. Monetary donations are going to go a lot further to rebuild Joplin than cans of tomato soup and hotel sized shampoos. Further, a lot of people sent garage sale fare- dirty, heavily used and sometimes broken toys, soiled linens, and Easter candy- melted Snickers. Sometimes, I wonder what goes through people's minds...


We worked for three hours and almost completely finished with the entire warehouse. There were about fifteen of us, including AmeriCorps workers and a man from Houston, Texas who drove 16 hours to be here after hearing about the tornado.

Being a volunteer takes patience, flexibility, and generosity- of your time and energy. After three hours, I was wiped out. I had downed two bottles of water and was about to pass out from heat exhaustion. But after three hours, seeing that warehouse transformed from an unsorted mess to a clean floor and perfectly packaged pallets, I knew that we had done something good for people that had lost everything.

PS- If you ever get a chance to volunteer with your significant other, i suggest doing so! Adam and I worked as a team today as we went through boxes and sorted items. At the end of the day, we walked hand in hand to the bus. The bus driver smiled at us. I said to him, "I'm really glad we got to do this together." He kissed my hand and said, "Me too." It's amazing how close you feel to someone when you change the world together.