Tuesday, November 30, 2010

A Neverland Dream

By Pamela Major

I can still envision it perfectly now. My mother's arms were stretched out wide to help keep her balance on the curb and to embrace the morning rain. She sang, "I'm singing in the rain, just singing in the rain . . ." out loud as cars drove past us. Other children were also being escorted by their mothers to school. They stared as I closed my umbrella, jumped on the curb, and harmonized with her. We laughed until we reached school. It was then, as a 5th grader, that I made a silent vow with myself to adopt my mother's frequently said motto, "Never grow up."

The motto quickly turned into a dream after the abrupt death of my father two years later. This I can still envision perfectly now as well. My father’s skin acted like tights on his bones and defined his skeleton body. He had endured six months of an unforgiving internal concentration camp: cancer. Six months of treatment were equivalent to 6 years of added life for me, which translates into 6 years of a lifeless life. I was forced to grow up because growing up meant I was prepared for the worse. It meant that laughter and happiness were dangerous because they were vulnerable to the slaughter of real life. It meant no more singing. Life was too unpredictable to play and dream. Or so I thought.

My mother, although she was in heavy bereavement, remained true to her motto. Sometimes with a teary smile, she would ask me to dance with her in the living room. For brief moments like that, I felt a release from my adult persona; however, it was quickly replaced after the moment passed. One evening, my mother asked me to dance. I told her “no” in my depressing tone and her response jolted me, “Pamela, you are too old!” Then she went to the living room, placed the Carpenter’s record on her phonograph, and blasted the volume. She belted with the music, “I’m on the top of the world.” It was then that I realized I had total and complete access to my dream of remaining young. All I had to do was choose it.

Many people see dreams as goals that take a lifetime to fulfill; my dream also takes a lifetime to fulfill, but I get to fulfill it every day. When people ask me what I want to be when I grow up or what I want to accomplish in my life, I think to myself, “I will never grow up.” 

Tuesday, November 23, 2010


My-oh-my how the days do fly! John came home for a moment today, 23rd Nov., and posted this comment to tell her bride he loves her. He wishes the days, hours, and even minutes could slow down and sneak by so darn fast. It's almost time to gather around the big table and be a family with those who live near and far.

I for one enjoy both time with my brothers, sisters, and parents along with my wife and unborn baby as well as time with just the latter-two (not counting our huge puppy). Pamela helps me to reach down deep and retrieve the most tender feelings I never knew I had. I love her. What's more spending time with her feels like breathing, seeing, and feeling, so natural and good and joyous. While I miss spending time with those I love but usually can only visit semi-frequently, I will forever treasure the years I have with just my equal and sweet darling. Waking up in the morning is like being with Pamela. Every day a new shining star shining bright and lighting up the sky helps me to appreciate being alive and whole with my sweetheart.


I love you madly, and carelessly deep.


Monday, November 22, 2010

3-D Ultra Sound: The Ultimate Experience

Above is a 3-D image of our baby girl. You can see her face, nose, and even lips.  If you look closely, her hand is in front of her chin in a fist.

This afternoon John and I were privileged to have a 3-D ultra sound. The ultra sound itself lasted about 13 1/2 minutes. The 3-D imaging was absolutely amazing. The fact that sound waves can give us a 3-D  picture of our unborn child is simply incredible. From the ultra sound, we learned that the baby's organs are all growing appropriately and that she currently weighs 1 pound 4 ounces. Her precious little Colby leg is about 4 inches long. I say Colby leg because the Colbys have huge muscly calves. Hers definitely looked like it was going to be a Colby calf. : )  We feel so grateful for this little, healthy girl. She is already so beautiful and such a wonderful blessing to our lives. As a soon-to-be-mother, all I can say is that I am humbled God granted me this gift to nurture, teach, learn from, and love.

: D Below is a picture of her Colby leg.