My Sacred Garden

I remember watching The Secret Garden for the first time and seeing Mary pull back the ivy only to discover a door with a lock that would need a key to open it. She was determined to find the key and when she did, she returned to the gate, pushed the door open, and saw a large English garden that had been neglected for years. She made friends with Dickon, and the two of them would return to their secret garden for weeks where they would work with their hands, clean the garden and hear the birds chirping from the top of the brick walls. The garden became beautiful over time, with spring flowers shooting up through the earth's soil, the leaves returning to the trees, and the once forgotten garden had been given the attention it needed and was now full of life.

I loved the idea of a secret garden. An unsuspecting entrance to an intimate place where I could be without distraction, work with the soil, flowers, and invite others to enjoy the space with me. 

As I walked through the backyard of a potential property for the first time, I approached an overgrown area of the yard where like Mary, I pulled the branches out of the way and made my way through, only to discover an area of the yard that was somehow hidden from the rest. It wasn't formal with brick walls, it didn't have beautifully groomed hedges or proper flower beds, but it was an hidden and intimate place that I could see as my very own secret garden. 

I felt like Mary with my very own bit of earth. I worked tirelessly pruning bushes back, removing dead branches from the trees, filling up bags and more bags of leaves that had fallen and never been picked up. I cleaned out the trash from the once upon a time irrigation canal, mowed the lawn, built a flagstone area and brought in a table and chairs, hung flower baskets from the fence, added bird houses and a couple statues, one of which is a little girl with her arms stretched out with birds on her arms named, "Basking in God's Glory." I placed an arbor with doors at the once overgrown entrance, and slowly, my garden became magical. There were times that I felt Dickon would show up, or that a fox would come out of the bushes. I would hear birds chirping, deer would walk through, and not a single distraction from the world. The blossoms on the trees grew to be apples and plums, grape hyacinths rose from the soil, and my garden was alive and cared for again. It was my happy place. 

My garden was for special occasions, because it was special. I would invite friends and family to my garden. There I would spoil and dote over my guests with beautifully set tables, tiers of delicious food, tea pots full of lemonade, beautiful tea cups and saucers, and fresh flowers. Always fresh flowers. I loved planning and preparing these events. I loved all the little details that went into my parties. My happy place was also a happy place for others and I loved sharing it. Only wonderful things happened there. 

My mom loved my garden. She had helped me that first summer after purchasing the house. The world was in the middle of a pandemic and she was going through colon cancer. My yard and garden gave her a sense of purpose and she loved seeing me so happy. She loved checking in with me every day to see what I had done and what progress I was making. She would help how she could. We would stop for lunch and eat under the big tree every day. She was my biggest cheerleader and loved seeing me tackle such an overwhelming project knowing that it was bringing me so much joy. 

She loved attending my parties and hearing about them when she couldn't. 

My mom's cancer returned three years later. One summer day I had a garden themed tea for all the girls in my family. I wanted this to be special so I hung wisteria from the trees, strung banners, and had tiers of garden themed finger foods. Knowing my mom had just begun chemotherapy three days earlier and how it affected her appetite and mouth, my sister and I made sure to have a special little tier of bland foods just for her. She didn't feel well that day, but sat with us out in the garden. We all wore hats, and had fun being together. That was the last time my mom was in my secret garden. She was gone 20 days later.

When I returned to the garden for the first time after losing her, I was just sad. There was nothing magical about it. I was grieving the loss of my mom and I felt like I was grieving the loss of my garden that had had so much meaning to me and brought me so much joy. I looked around and it looked more like a graveyard than a secret garden. Once a beloved angel statue in the shrubs now looked like a headstone. The little girl statue of  "Basking in God's Glory" also looked like a statue in a cemetery. I stood there for several minutes wondering if I even wanted the house anymore. The Spirit touched my heart as I looked around again, I knew that my mom would never want me to be sad there, that it could still be my happy place. I would need to figure out how to do that. I looked around the garden again and my eyes were drawn to where the sun peeked through the trees onto the little girl with her arms reaching out with birds resting on them. Of course. She was my sweet mom. Who for the last four years had chosen to let God prevail in her life despite what might happen to her through her cancer journey. She was free now. And the birds. Really? They weren't just birds. They were sparrows. Just one week before my mom's passing, she introduced me to the hymn, "His Eye Is On the Sparrow." I had given all of my siblings one day's notice to learn the song so that we could sing it to my mom on her birthday. My mom, so frail, and suffering so much, and barely having the strength to even spit out a few words, was there doing her best at singing along with us, particularly the part, "I sing because I'm happy." It was special and such a sacred experience. All of my mom's posterity stood, turned around and faced the congregation at her funeral and sang, "His Eye Is On the Sparrow" together. It was beautiful. As I looked at that girl with her arms stretched out basking in God's glory with sparrows on her arms, I knew that the Lord was aware of me. He was so aware of me. My mom was there in my secret garden, my happy place. I was happy. 

Another visit to the garden that summer I noticed that my large apple tree in the corner of the yard was dying and that it needed to come down. My dad came and helped me cut down the tree, branch by branch, then the stump, and leveled it to the ground. I loved that corner of the garden with the large apple tree that lent great shade to the table and chairs. Losing the tree was more than losing the shade. It was another loss. As my dad and I were removing the branches I noticed my large gold band ring fly off my finger. {The one D made me while in dental school.}We stopped what we were doing to look for the ring. We looked and looked. Not my ring too? That was too much. Word got out to my family that I had lost my ring. So many family members showed up and we looked for over an hour together scouring the ground for that one of a kind ring. People reached out to friends that owned metal detectors and returned back to the garden to keep looking. It wasn't expensive, but it couldn’t be replaced. The family was happy for me when after a few days looking, my ring was found right where we had all looked over and over. It was overwhelming watching my family band together in a cause without my mom instigating it. It was special. It was in my garden. 

My brother, seeing the large pile of tree debris in the garden, offered to bring his family over to help remove it for me. While we were all working together, I recognized my mom there. She wasn't there really, but seeing my brother and his selfless young family there serving me, was what my mother had always said about him. My mom would usually reach out to him and say how I had so much to get rid of and ask if he would be willing to bring over his trailer and take it to the dump for me. He had done that for me without my mom asking. It was at that very moment that my secret garden was more than that. It was my sacred garden. 

Seasons have come and gone since she left because time never stops even though your world seems to. She was more than just my mom. She was my best friend. The last thing she said to me was, “Thanks for being my buddy.” I had seen her decline and even told her I was ok for her to go. Yet, somehow it doesn’t seem real that she’s gone. There are times I cry out telling her how badly I miss her. Other times I’m pleading for her to help me. How do you live without the person that knows your heart inside and out, your testimony of God and His goodness, your biggest cheerleader, and bestie? No one in the world knows or could even understand the relationship we had. And then…

I saw Him in the Garden praying there for me.

The grief I’ve felt, I saw it. Running through His veins.

As I held back the branches I watched Him secretly.

It happened in the Garden, in Gethsemane.

There He was on His knees.

Willing to suffer so that He might succor me.

I felt so foolish, once stating, “No one in the world.”

When the Savior does, He knows me perfectly.

I then left the Garden and cried out to Thee, 

“I’m thankful for my garden and what it means to me.”

Sweet memories of my mother.

All the girls out having tea.

My family searching for something special

My brother serving me.

It started with a garden, 

once opened with a key.

And now my eyes are open.

Yes, I know Heavenly Father loves me.

I love that my Secret Garden became my Sacred Garden. My garden never needed a key and either does the power of the Savior's Atonement. It's always there, a sacred place where we can meet Him.

 

My Story is now Complete

As I was typing the different days of my Louisville trip, I came up with some conclusions.

1.  I'm doing well.  Really well.  Just last fall I cancelled three trips due to my anxiety, so to think I went to D asking him if I could go by myself is almost miraculous.

2.  I love road trips.

3.  I giggle a lot.

4.  I also cry a lot.

5.  I pull a lot of weird faces and do funny poses in pictures.

6.  I like to do stupid fake scenario pictures.  They make me happy.

7.  I learned that I like to make lists and check things off.  It feels good.

8.  I also enjoy winging it most of the time.  :)

Maybe the biggest thing of all.... I feel like I had a trip of a lifetime.  More than I ever could have expected.  And yet, not once have I worried about what might be lurking around the corner as to what trial I'm going to have to go through next.  I'm learning to live by faith and not by fear.  It's been a long time coming.  April 7th may be one of the greatest days in my life, but it also brought a lot of worry and fear for the next twenty years.  Worrying that if I was really prepared, something would happen.  Worried that if I went through other difficult challenges, I wouldn't receive miracles or help because I had already had mine.  Worried that if things were really good, then most certainly something bad was bound to happen.  Isn't that crazy that for twenty years I could be so vocal about knowing God loves me, and that miracles happen, yet, those same twenty years I've lived in fear of being abandoned when I would have to go through something tragic again?  Had I not learned anything?  Better late than never. As I'm sitting here typing and crying again, I'm realizing that I've just put all the pieces together.  My story is now complete.

Goodbye Louisville...Day 5

Church was at 9:30 that morning and I was excited to return to my old First ward that I had been a member of for five years.  I knew better than to return with high expectations.  I knew that I probably wouldn't know more than three people if they were even there that day.  With it being Fast Sunday back home, I was looking forward to bearing my testimony as my goodbye to this special place. Driving down Eastern Parkway brought back so many great memories.  I had always loved driving down that road and loved the area and the homes.  Then I saw the church building.  I remembered standing in front of it my very first Sunday 23 years ago having my picture taken with my little red headed boy in my arms and my husband next to me.  It was a refuge that day, knowing that I would be okay so far away from home as long as I had a ward family around me.

We walked into the building and found ourselves having Sacrament Meeting in a small carpeted gym/chapel.  The rows were made up of Relief Society chairs.  Where in the world was my small chapel with wooden pughs and just one center aisle?  With all that I had learned the last few days being back in Kentucky, I was disappointed but I wasn't.  Time had moved on and things had changed.  My small little ward was really now the size of a branch.  No more than fifty people were there.  But it was beautiful in different ways.  I loved seeing African American members there.  One of which was in the bishopric, a young man was there by himself and he helped pass the Sacrament, and another mother and her three children. I loved seeing that the truth of the Gospel was growing and reaching different people.  I admired that young man that was there all by himself and wondered about his story.  I couldn't help but sit there and just love him.

It turned out not to be Fast Sunday there.  It must have been the week before General Conference.  That made it that much easier to just drive the heck out of there.  I didn't know a single person there.  The building was different.  I wouldn't be able to share my thoughts and my testimony.  I wondered why in the world we had even chosen to go to that ward.  We could have gone to any ward.  It was a long meeting with just one youth speaker and the Stake Patriarch.  I'll admit my mind wandered and I was doing more people watching than listening.  Then it was finally time for the closing song.

I recognized the intro on the organ.  Could it really be?  Was I really so deserving of another, my eighth tender mercy?  The small congregation began to sing, "I Know That My Redeemer Lives".  It had been the song that was sung and touched me the first time I returned back to church after my accident.  The building had changed.  The ward and people had changed.  But the hymns, the songs, and my testimony had remained the same.  In fact, that special hymn that I had loved so much there in Louisville, had been a favorite of mine since then.  I could sing that same hymn anywhere in the world, hear it being sung in any language, with any congregation, with my family, or just by myself, and the truth of it would never change.  I knew my Heavenly Father loved me and was aware of me and my desire to be there.  He knew of my patience of wanting to return since the day I had moved away.  While I listened to the small congregation sing, I found myself praying, expressing such gratitude for His love for me.  Church had been perfect after all.

He lives to comfort me when faint.
He lives to hear my soul's complaint.
He lives to silence all my fears.
He lives to wipe away my tears.
He lives to calm my troubled heart.
He lives all blessings to impart.  

He lives! All glory to his name!
He lives, my Savior, still the same.
Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:
"I know that my Redeemer lives!"
He lives!  All glory to his name!
He lives, my Savior, still the same.
Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:
"I know that my Redeemer lives!"

As I got up to leave when the meeting was over, I heard my name.  I turned around and there were two old friends.  One of my young women, Elizabeth and a friend Lynne.  They had been sitting right behind me and wanted to surprise me.  I had been in contact with Elizabeth so she knew I would be there, but I hadn't heard back from her to know if she would.  What a fun reunion.  We were able to talk for several minutes before we left the chapel.  Before leaving the building, Elizabeth and I got to chat a bit more.  She got emotional and told me that I had been such an inspiration to her all these years.  She had remembered me smiling all the time despite the challenges that I had gone through while living there.  She was sad that I had gone out there so far from family, and had to have had the trial that I did.  She remembered my tights and didn't know quite what they were for, thinking they were to make my burned legs feel better.  It was so sweet to hear how she had remembered me and how I had made that kind of impression on her as a young woman.  It came to me that she was one of the biggest reasons it was so hard for me to drive away 18 years ago.  My small transient First Ward members had been my family for five years.  They were the ones that helped me and rescued my small family when we needed help the most.  They were the ones that visited me, prayed for me, brought me the Sacrament, and loved me.  How could you just walk away from that?  I felt like I had betrayed them driving away.  Like I had just used them while I was there.  After all, we were only there because of school.  And then it was time to move onto our real lives. But Louisville had become my real life and I didn't want to walk away from it and what it had become to me.  While talking to Elizabeth, it donned on me that I was with someone that knew me.  The before and after.  A true Louisvillian, not another student friend or a family member.  Heavenly Father knew that I was about to leave Louisville again, and I needed to be able to drive away feeling peace and not looking back this time.  Elizabeth wasn't sure she would be able to be there that Sunday, but insisted that she needed to be.

My sweet Elizabeth,
Seeing you and talking to you that day, was the ninth tender mercy I had received on that trip.  The Lord knew I needed you and to have some more of my feelings validated.  That I needed just one more thing to happen for me to drive away this time with closure.  So that I could have the opportunity to tell you that God is good.  That my years there were a blessing.  I have always loved saying that I lived in Louisville, Kentucky.  I loved living there.  Every single day.  I have always been grateful for the experiences that I had while living there.  Louisville was very good to me.  I grew so much while living there and even grew just returning back for those few days.  I love you.  I love your sweet mom and grandma.  Louisville and the First Ward will always be very special to me.  They were my home and family and I can't thank Heavenly Father enough for those years in my life.  Thank you for being your cute self.  It was so good to see you.  XOXO

Go to the First Ward.  CHECK
See Elizabeth.  CHECK

I got one last picture of me in front of my church building, busted out the burek for breakfast, and then we drove away.  Goodbye Louisville.  It was a trip of a lifetime.

Our flight was out of Cincinnati again, so we made our way up there with just one more thing to check off of our bucket list.  We had tried to see a cathedral in Covington, Kentucky on the first day we arrived, but it was closed.  We just crossed our little fingers that it would be open on Sunday.  It was St. Mary's Cathedral Basilica of the Assumption.  When we arrived it was closed with not a car to be seen.  Sheri took a few pictures and was ready to head out.  I noticed a building next to the parking lot saying something like Pastor business building.  I was determined to see inside the cathedral so I went and knocked on the door.  I was buzzed in, and heard a voice coming from somewhere in the building asking if they could help me.  I helped myself in and looked into every room until I found the voice.  I told him that we were visiting from "far away" and that we had hoped we could see their beautiful cathedral.  He told me that someone would be over in a just a minute to open it.  I turned around, walked out with a smile and told Sheri that we would be seeing inside the cathedral.  haha  Sure enough, about three minutes later, someone showed up and we walked right in.

We stood there for a minute not really knowing what was proper, then I asked if we could just walk around and possibly take pictures.  We were told yes, except we couldn't take pictures in their Sacrament room and we couldn't walk up onto the alter area.  The artwork was amazing.  Huge stained glass windows all the way around, mosaic art, beautiful wood work, amazing architecture, etc.

Look at these pipes for the organ.  The choir sings up there with the organ.  You know how I know?  Well, showing interest in people earns privileges.  And possibly mentioning that I play the organ for my church probably helped a little  We got a personal tour that the other "tour people" don't get to see.  It was pretty neat.  Spiral staircase up, four levels of keys on the organ with I don't know how many stops, and the view of the cathedral looking down was amazing.  

 See St. Mary's Cathedral Basilica of the Assumption.  CHECK

You know there's nothing quite like seeing this sign at Walgreens just before you jump on the plane to head back home.  I mean we were about to leave the land of tobacco fields, bourbon country, drive up betting and wagering at the horse track.  So why not add free HIV testing to the list?

 Sheri's husband picked us up at the airport and dropped me off at home.  D and the kids ran out to greet me and it was a great reunion and I knew I was right where I was supposed to be.  I hugged Sheri and thanked her for going with me.  For being the best travel buddy I truly could have ever asked for.  No one has ever shared that many intimate details and special experiences with me before as they were happening.  She was easy going, always happy, my direction buddy, the list goes on and on.  I told her that I loved her and meant it from the bottom of my heart.  I don't know how we became such good friends other than the Lord just led her to me.  He knew that I would need her the last two years.  That I was going to have a hard time, that I needed someone positive in my life,  someone that would have time to be a friend, and the perfect travel buddy when it came time to head back to Kentucky.  I love you Sheri.  Thank you so much for being you.  Thank you for being my final and tenth tender mercy.  I know I already counted you as a tender mercy just going on the trip with me.  But I'm so grateful that I was blessed with such a good friend.  Thank you for whatever promptings you've had to help me, serve me and my family, and just being you.  You are one of a kind.

I sat with the D and the kids for a couple of hours telling them stories that night.  Thanking D for letting me go.  Telling my kids that Heavenly Father loves each of us.  That He continued to tell me that throughout my trip.  I couldn't wait to kneel by my bed that night and pour out my heart.  He had given me the perfect trip.  The trip of a lifetime.

Spending the 7th in Louisville...Day 2

Thursday April 7-

It was the day.  The big one.  The one that I reflect on every single year.  And this year would be different.  It would be special and unlike any other year since the first time.  I was back in the place that miracles had happened.  The place that changed me.  I had my list of places to go and people to see and we headed out.

Sheri and I went back to my old apartment on Fountain Drive where it all began.  I had remembered the street lined with apartments differently.  They were pretty and well taken care of with a new playground on the property.  We drove down the street around several fountains until I could see it on the left at the very end.  It was so tiny.  Could I have possibly lived there before?  It had been a home to me, D and my two little boys for over three and a half years, but I stood in front having my picture taken just like I had remembered taking a picture of my grandma when she and my grandpa had visited.  I was now just a visitor myself.  It seemed strange and foreign.  It was just a place now.  As I got into the car to leave, I pointed across the street to Jasminka's apartment where she once lived and we had become friends.  Visit old apartment.  CHECK

In the evenings, Sheri and I would be on our phones looking up places to eat, checking out their menus, reading the reviews, and deciding where we would be eating the next day.  So we had the day all mapped out.  We headed down town to a place called Toast on Market for breakfast. 

They were well known for their Lemon Souffle pancakes.  It was in a really cute area just a couple blocks from where we had lived the first year we lived there.  All kinds of cute and quaint restaurants and cafes around.  It was a foodie's paradise.  We were welcomed in and taken back to a table in a room that had once been outside with cobblestone floors and fireplaces, now it had strings of lights, big windows in front and propane heaters.  It was really neat.  It was cold there in Louisville, so when we saw hot chocolate on the menu we couldn't resist.  Caramel Cream and Heath bar and they kept our hands nice and warm.

We ordered the Lemon Souffle pancakes with blueberry compote, and the Monte Cristo with orange marmalade and  Hash brown Casserole.  (with roasted red peppers)  The entire breakfast was delicious and we left happy with our first Louisville meal.  Breakfast at Toast on Market.  CHECK

Right next door was a candy store that Sheri had pinned on Pinterest on our Louisville board we had made together.  We decided to check it out.  We walked in and it wasn't anything fancy.  In fact, I was kind of disappointed that it could have been around about hundred years without fancy displays, candy rolled in wax paper, chocolate made from molds, empty display cabinets, etc.  We had just eaten so we weren't hungry but how do you walk in and not buy anything?  The store was run by two little old ladies with blue hair net things on their heads.  We asked what their best selling candy was and Sheri bought a bag of eight Modjeskas.  We got out to the car and whipped the candies out and both tried them.  What in the world?  They were so good!  Homemade marshmallow dipped in homemade caramel equals heaven.  How could something so simple be so extraordinary?  In fact, after eating them throughout the morning driving around, we went back and bought another bag of 16.  haha.  I asked the lady if we could peek around the wall and take a picture of them wrapping the candies.  It was so fun.  She brought us back to a little room and showed us how they cut them, what different chocolate molds they had, and invited us back again.  Once we got home I looked up a Modjeska candy.  They originated right there in Louisville!!  How awesome was that?  We've decided that we are going to try to make some together.  Visit Muth's Candies.  CHECK

Across the street from Muth's was a huge antique store.  We had a few minutes on our meter so we headed over to check it out.  We walked in and a man at a desk without greeting us asked, "Do you know how we do our pricing here? " And then went on and on in practically another language.  Weirdest thing ever.  The first floor had ornate chandeliers hanging everywhere with countless rooms full of things.  Then we made our way over to an architectural antique floor that we could have spent hours at.  It had some really awesome things.  

In that same area was a cathedral that we snapped a picture of.  It was amazing what I had forgotten over the years.  I remembered maybe two cathedrals there.  There were hundreds of churches everywhere and cathedrals all over town.  They were beautiful and grand and their architecture was amazing.  I couldn't believe that I had forgotten what a religious area of the country I had once lived in.   

Sheri hadn't been to Indiana before so we drove around trying to find the freeway entrance with construction going on everywhere around us.  I was lost and really had no sense of direction anymore.  That morning had been somewhat frustrating to me.  I asked myself, "How could I have driven these freeways and streets hundreds of times, and have no idea how to get somewhere?"  I mentioned to Sheri that this was just a place.  That I was just another tourist.  That I was seeing this city through different eyes.  We finally got on the freeway to get on the bridge and went over the Ohio River and found her an Indiana sign.  Where in the world did that modern bridge come from?  And why wouldn't they make it look like the others?  It changed the whole look of the city.  I hadn't approved of that.  The Louisville bridges weren't my bridges anymore.

Take Sheri to Indiana.  CHECK

We pulled off and took the exit that I thought would take us to see the skyline of Louisville. And then I saw it.  We pulled over, jumped out of the car for about two seconds, grabbed a picture and jumped back in the car for shelter from the crazy winds and cold weather.  I sat there looking at the skyline I've remembered for 18 years, and it wasn't right.  Now there was a huge building that said, "KFC yum Center" on it.  Really?  In my Louisville skyline picture??  It too had changed since I had driven away.  As we drove away there was this cute little house across the street.

Picture with the Louisville skyline.  CHECK

Because we had driven over on a different bridge, the Colgate clock wasn't visible so we hunted it down and found it.  At least I remembered it being the Colgate clock, but there wasn't name on the building and it was all shut down.  I don't know that I had seen it up close like that before.  It was huge.

See the Colgate Clock.  CHECK

Heading back to Louisville we drove over a bridge I had remembered and all was right in the world again.

We went to the Louisville Slugger Museum and turned down the tour once we found out it was $14 a person and neither of us enjoy baseball.  I couldn't rationalize that when I had seen the tour a dozen times for free when I had lived there.  So, we peeked through the window, bought a couple souvenirs,

I'm not sure why the super hero things out front, but we had fun with them.

Louisville Slugger Museum.  CHECK

It was fun seeing the painted horses around town.  Actually up to almost an hour away.  This is the one down the street from the museum.  Painted horses.  CHECK

I stood next to the tallest man in the world and felt petite for the first time in my life and headed on our way.

Down the street was a little old car with whisky barrels on it.

Then we saw something you don't even see in Vegas.  A DIY half marble embedded car.  So funny.  Hats off though for doing a killer job.

We continued west on that road and realized we were in less than desirable neighborhoods.  The roofs were sunken, houses falling apart, trash everywhere, no yard care, nothing maintained.  I had forgotten how dire some living situations are.  I left the neighborhood so grateful.  You can't drive through something like that and think you're better than someone else.  Nothing but gratitude for what you have.

We then headed to the University of Louisville Hospital where I had been a patient a couple times.  One to deliver my Louisville baby, the other as a burn patient in the burn unit.  It was strange going in again.  Strange to be asking where the burn unit was.  And even stranger to be able to walk right into the burn unit.  I was sure that we would have to ring a bell, put on certain clothes, sterilize ourselves, and be quickly taken back to a room some distance from the patients.   But things had changed in 20 years.  The unit was now on the 5th floor and not the eighth.  We walked right in and I saw a patient laying on his bed to the left of me.  I had never walked in or out of that unit.  I had just been rolled on a bed, so it was weird to return walking as strange as that sounds.  I had an appointment with Lori the unit manager.  We sat in her office for awhile visiting.  She thought it was neat that I would return after 20 years and that I was doing well and life had moved on.  I told her that I hadn't enjoyed my time there, but I valued my time there because of the miracles I had seen, the growth in myself and knowing for the first time in my life that God was there for me all.  The.  Time.  We talked about my desire to volunteer in the burn unit where I live today and how it's gone nowhere.  She gave me some names to contact and how she personally would value what I want to do for the patients and sees it so important for their recovery physically and emotionally.  I think that's all I needed from visiting there.  I needed my good intentions validated by someone that works with burn patients everyday.  I've second guessed myself over the years thinking what I wanted to do was ridiculous and that I was such a rare and almost desperate circumstance.  But there is a need for me.  There are people in the burn unit that can benefit from my experiences.  I left there feeling normal.  (And now I'm laying on the computer desk sobbing, remembering that that was my first tender mercy on the trip.)

 It was right around lunch time now so we made our way over to the Brown Hotel.  I had gotten reservations at Graham's Cafe to have lunch with Patty B my nurse that I have kept in contact with over the years.  I had never even had a Hot Brown while living in Kentucky for five years, so I was not only going to have a Hot Brown when I returned, but I was going to have the original!  We met Patty at 2:30 where we enjoyed visiting and catching up on children and grandchildren.  Patty and I each ordered the Hot Brown, Sheri got a Bourbon Pulled Pork sandwich and we got a slice of Derby Pie to go.  It was fun eating it and comparing to the ones I make every year on Derby.  It was something I couldn't have done back then.  Ordering an open faced sandwich for $16 would have been ridiculous.  But it was perfect and I was so happy to be able to have the real deal.

Hot Brown from the Brown Hotel.  CHECK

It was fun seeing Patty again.  It was as though I had seen her last week.  She remembered my little boys she had once met.  And I remembered the first time I met her.  I wasn't doing well and I had just been bumped over to the trauma unit.  She came in and sat down next to me, held my hand, and told me that she would take care of me as if I were here own child.  That's exactly what I had needed that day all those years ago.  It was as if she was sent to me personally.  Oh how I loved my dear angel nurse, Patty.

 When we went to get our car from the valet, they all seemed quite concerned.  It took longer than we thought it should  Then one of the valet guys came up to me and said, "I hate to ask this awkward question, but do you have your key?"  My eyebrows went up and I quickly told him, "No, I left the car running."   He left and then it got really uncomfortable.  All the valets were talking to each other, making phone calls, one left to possibly go find the Hotel owner himself I know it. {haha}  I'm sitting there wishing I had bought the third party insurance since my car had no keys and I was busted.  The guy returned to me again and asked if my car, using some terms I don't understand, is a car that doesn't need a key to start the car and if I might have kept the key.  Oh shoot.  My hand went to my purse and I slowly reached in there and dreaded pulling the key back out knowing I had just had quite the airhead moment and D would love to have been a fly on the wall.  There it was.  The key that I didn't have.  So, they then brought up the car and the three of us jumped in to take Patty to her car around the building.  Oh boy.  That was embarrassing.  But a good giggle a lot embarrassing.  We drove Patty around the building and shared a Modjeska with her going on and on about how good they were.  At that point I saw Patty as a human outside of nursing when she said the funniest thing.  When I stopped to drop Patty off, we hugged and told each other we loved them.  Then she said I was the daughter she never had.    All those years that I hoped I would get to see her again and I just had.  What sweet second tender mercy. Oh sweet Patty.  I love you.  You'll always be my angel nurse.

See Patty my angel nurse.  CHECK

After lunch we headed to the Old Louisville District and St. James Court.  It was fun seeing the neat architecture, (What am I saying?  Every ounce of architecture there is amazing down to the grossest shack!)  The blossoms were out, the lanterns lit, the fountain, the homes, and the Caldwell Mansion and it's wood work is what I had remembered it being and reminded me of the Provo City Temple.  It was beautiful and we just kept imagining the opportunity to live in a home there for a period of time and how fun it might be.

 Old Louisville District and St. James Court.  CHECK

We then went to check out Cave Hill Cemetery but the gates were closed and we never went back to go in.  We tried but weren't able to check it off of our bucket list.  Sorry Colonal Sanders.  RIP  Silly Sheri kept saying she didn't get to see where KFC was buried.  haha  It ended up being the only thing we didn't get to do on our list.

We drove down Bardstown Road which was the first street I ever knew there.  It was fun seeing a couple places that I recognized and remembered with all the little shops, restaurants and cafes.  Just as we were approaching the freeway we saw the Krispy Kreme that I had driven by a thousand times and had never even gotten a donut from.  It was the original Krispy Kreme {after learning so on Pinterest}, so we had to stop and get a donut or two.  I mean we just had to.  It ended up being our dinner that night in the motel along with our Derby Pie we had gotten to go.

See the original Krispy Kreme.  CHECK

We headed back to the motel satisfied with what we had done that day.  We watched the finale of the very last season of American Idol where La'Porsha didn't win!  I jumped into bed and buried myself in the sheets discouraged with the American voters and wondering what the heck they're all thinking!!!

As I knelt in prayer that night, my heart was so full.  I was so grateful for a husband that let me return on such short notice and not really question my needing to go.  I was grateful that Sheri had come with me.  The trip hadn't been the trip I had envisioned or dreamt of.  Things had changed.  Louisville was now only a place I had once lived.  I was on a trip with my friend.  A girls getaway.  I would have sat there the next three days in my room waiting for my flight to take me back home.  But she was there with me, and I was giggling the whole time having a fun trip with a good friend, sharing some of the most intimate times of my life.   She was my third tender mercy.

As I continued to pray, I poured out my heart with gratitude for the woman that I've become because of the things that I've been through and experienced. I thought back and wondered how could it really have been twenty years ago?  I was grateful for my children, the miracles, my relationship with my Heavenly Father, and coming to the realization that my accident and miracles simply happened there.  That miracles can happen anywhere and I've continued to see them since I moved away.  I was grateful that I was there.  The opportunity to return.  But home where my husband and children were, really is my favorite place on earth.  I had received some closure to this almost sacred place.  I could move on, enjoy my trip with my friend, and truly be content if I were never to return to Louisville again.  I would always be grateful for the the experiences I had there, the people I knew, the growth in myself, and so much more.  Realizing that was my  fourth tender mercy.  I discussed my feelings about the day with Sheri.  She agreed that I had found some closure, and I told her that we were just going to have fun and see and do as much as we could the next couple of days.  I was going to get to know the Kentucky I never knew.

Sheri and I did our normal night time routine looking up restaurants and making our to do list for the next day.   I thanked Sheri for coming with me, turned out the lights, and went to bed happy.