Memaw Betty

I am lucky to have a large and loving family on both branches of my family tree.  My dad’s side of the family lives in North Texas and for the past few years, we would come down every December to visit my Memaw Betty and see the rest of the family.  An easy five-hour drive from Arkansas. Last year, after moving back to Tennessee I wanted to make sure that I was able to make the trip. A week before Christmas last year, I flew to Texas and met my Dad, sister, brother, and the nephews to visit Memaw Betty and have “Aunt Barbara’s Christmas at Diane’s.” Yes, that is the proper name. Looking back almost a year later, I am so glad we made time to make that trip. Memaw was too sick to make the Christmas party, but we stopped by her room at the Rehab center before heading out to Diane’s house. We spent the morning opening gifts and talking with Memaw. She got to hold her newest great-grandson. We took a picture of four generations of Wolfs. Then it was time to go so we kissed her goodbye and wished her a Merry Christmas.  Just seven days later, she was gone.


Now it has almost been a year.  There are times that I still can’t believe that she is gone. This year, we came down a weekend earlier and went to the Wolf family Christmas party at the KC Hall.  Flying into Dallas and pointing my rental car north to Gainesville, Texas, I couldn’t help but reflect on the last time I flew to town – for Memaw’s funeral.  This was the first year, I would be coming to Texas to celebrate Christmas and see family without Memaw here – bittersweet. I tried to focus more on the good memories and not on the sadness of knowing that she is gone. I know that she is looking down on us all and proud of the people we have become.  There were a few times that I teared up while thinking of years past or finding pictures of Christmas as kids.  I know I’m biased, but having Memaw Betty as a grandmother was a pretty special experience. When I was seven, my parents moved us twelve hours away to Tennessee.  My brother, sister, and I would come down every summer for two months and live with Memaw Betty (and Pepaw Lee until he passed).  Memaw would drive us around and make sure we had plenty to do. She put up with a lot from us grandkids, but you just knew she thought we hung the moon. She gave so much of herself to everyone, an example that I hope to live up to.  So as I sit at my gate waiting to board my flight home to Nashville, I couldn’t let the weekend close without paying a small tribute to her memory.

Memaw you are missed, but your love lives on in each one of us, and we could definitely feel that this weekend.


2 pics from this year’s celebration. 


Travel Fitness and Then the Plague

I finally mastered keeping up with my workouts while on the road. Huzzah! I returned home two weekends ago after being gone from home for 11 days. I know that I’ve written about my struggle to workout while traveling, but I did it this time. I’m pretty proud. Now, I still ate terribly (like a gluttonous pig, actually. Thanksgiving took a toll on my waistline), but I did get in workouts five days a week.  A huge win for me.  I’m embarrassed to admit that I worked out in a hotel fitness center for the first time in my life.  As much as I travel, that’s inexcusable.  I didn’t realize that hotel gyms were havens for middle-aged white men killing the elliptical game and macho younger men who make sex noises while slinging weights around. Oh? Not your experience? Good to know.  However, I did not let that deter me and got in my requisite workout.  After I left the conference, I flew to Arkansas to spend the week with my family for Thanksgiving.  I asked my trainer to send body-weight workouts to complete during that week as I wouldn’t have access to the gym.  I ended up watching my baby nephew two of the days I had workouts. Man, I give big props to all you moms who try to workout at home.  It’s tough.  Hats off to you! My nephew did think that squats were hilarious though. So there’s that.  Once I made it back home in one piece, I immediately dove back into work.  Last week was a busy week (I have a theory that the work universe punishes me for taking any time off). I was trucking along and getting in my workouts.  I even got up early on Tuesday morning to lift weights because I got the opportunity to go see Tony Bennett (PS: He’s amazing! Even at 90!).


Then Thursday night, BAM! I got hit with the plague.  Not really.  But I did get really sick Thursday night (and I will spare you the gory details… you’re welcome).  Friday morning I woke up and just didn’t feel right. I felt like my skin was too heavy for my bones.  I was just so so tired. I drug myself out of bed and made it to work.  I lasted four hours and then had to take myself home.  I immediately crawled into bed and slept for two hours straight (I can never nap and rarely do.  This was a sign to me that I was definitely sick).  I couldn’t really pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but I definitely knew something was up.  I stayed in bed the rest of Friday and then slept until 11:30 Saturday (again a very rare thing – especially since I went to bed at 11 pm).  I pretty much stayed in bed all of Saturday.  Finally Sunday, I visited a convenient care clinic.  I had a staph infection and upper respiratory infection.  I got my meds filled and immediately crawled back in bed. I tried to go into work on Monday. I made it to my desk and then immediately ran to the bathroom and got sick. I quickly took myself back home and crawled back into bed.  Luckily, yesterday I finally returned to work and made it the full day (even after dumping coffee all down my sweater upon walking in the building – I can’t make this stuff up).

I know in my head that my body needed rest, but I felt so guilty missing my workouts.  I’ve worked so hard and stayed on track. I was scared that this illness was going to derail me from all my handwork. Crazy, I know. Luckily my trainer talked me down (thanks Dave!) and assured me that my body deserved the rest and that I needed to take it easy.


This morning, I got up and did my first workout since last Wednesday night. Whew. It was ugly.  I sweated a ton and struggled with balance, but I got it done. It felt really good to push my body again. Hell, it felt great to be no longer lying in bed. I flew into Atlanta this afternoon and walked around some, but I am definitely tired now. I hope that I keep my energy up and continue to workout on this trip. I’m flying from here to Dallas on Friday to see my dad’s side of the family.  I’ve already looked up gyms near my aunt’s house and hope to buy a one-day pass to get in my workout for Saturday morning. We’ll see.


Speaking of balance, you guys know that I have trouble with my ears and therefore, my balance is not the greatest.  When I landed in Atlanta, I took the escalator up to baggage claim from the train between terminals. Well, I got off-balance with my luggage and fell down the escalator! How embarrassing.  Of course I screamed as I was falling, and EVERYONE across four rows of escalators turned around to stare. One really nice man leapt up three stairs to try to save me and scooped my bags up for me after making sure I was okay.  Thanks airport stranger, I really appreciate you and your help. 🙂 Okay. Enough rambling.  Peace out y’all!

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