Fixing Camaros and Meeting Jesus

meeting Jesus 1

I wrote this poem the other day when a childhood friend of mine lost her mom. I then typed it out, made it into a nice print and was going to give it to her at her mom’s funeral. Instead, I went to print it the morning of and our printer wasn’t working so I complained and complained to Stefen about how frustrated I was. Yes, I realize how stupid this situation was. So, instead of fighting with my printer again I decided to just make a post about it. I wasn’t planning on writing a post, I just wanted to subtly leave this poem here. But then, I started looking for an image to feature, because “you have to have a featured image” says my web designer husband. And I found this one, which happens to be one of my favorite memories of my father in law and I forgot I had pictures of it.


Stefen had gone to work and given me the task of fixing/gluing his camaro window to the top (long story has to do with me accidentally shattering the glass window and him having to buy a whole new cover and window, which wasn’t securely closed in. But back to the short story…) I was in GA and needed something to make the time go by while he was working. I was feeling confident in being able to do this by myself and knew he’d be happy when he got home. As soon as I got outside with all my necessary supplies though, out came his dad, who insisted on taking over and doing it mostly himself. I tried convincing him I could do it by myself, but he ignored me. We met somewhere in the middle and worked on it together. We didn’t have to talk (because I don’t usually do much of that in person anyway) and we didn’t have some huge bonding moment where we walked away closer than ever. We just stood there, working together, and at the end we both smiled because we were pretty happy with what we had accomplished.

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