It's The Great Big Jill Day!!!

Today is The Great Big Jill Day!!! 

I have LOVED hearing from you all about your plans for this special day!  It's been really great seeing the Facebook updates and reading about what everyone has been doing to celebrate our dear friend!

I would like to say THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for helping make this day a success.  I know you have impacted people in a positive way today and I know that Jill's family appreciates each of you taking the time to honor her life through your actions.

Cliff was kind enough to send me several photos to use this past week for my TGBJD posts--this one is my favorite:

Funny trumps cruel.  

Well, and this precious gem, too. 

I am still LOVING those acid washed jeans and those pig tails.  

Oh those precious, precious pig tails. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you everyone for making this a truly special day!

I woke up and took advantage of my extended Irene time at home to sit at Jill's table and spend time in the Word, journaling, and just giving thanks for my friendship with such a special lady.  I thought a lot about how much my life had changed because of her friendship. Of course, I spent a few moments remembering our last "conversation"--it was really one-sided, but she did acknowledge my presence.

I let my tears leak past my eyelids for that moment.  

And then I applied eye makeup.  

And then I approached the day like I had planned--giving people the attention they deserved.

I had planned to spend the day with my mom (family was a big deal to Jill).  On the drive to Kinston, there were several times I wanted to tune my children out (one in particular tends to get long-winded when describing dreams, situations, and any other thing that is of interest and sometimes it is a jumble of words) but I made myself pay attention, ask questions, and actually listen to what she had to say.  

Only my lerve, Christacular, and perhaps Rashur and our family can understand that it was indeed an act of service to listen to Molly's Dream Sequence in its entirety.  

I did my best to be pleasant to those I was around today. I made sure to maintain eye-contact with them and did my best to really listen to what they had to say.

I tried to laugh more, smile more, encourage more, and love on my girls.

I had Zaxby's for dinner in honor of our Tuesday Night Gang--aka Maria, Rachel, Jill, and myself.  We used to meet on Tuesday nights for dinner a few summers ago while Jill was pretty mobile.  She wanted to get out of the house, she could eat Zaxby's fairly well, and it was just good for our souls to get together to talk, laugh, and spend time with each other.

And finally, this evening while we ate, I used The Great Big Jill Day to talk about Heaven and Jesus with my girls.  The girls and I talked about Jill and her story.  We talked about how she was all better now because she was with Jesus.  We talked about how Jill went to sleep and when she opened her eyes, she was with Jesus.

My most beautiful moment of the day was sitting at Jill's table and listening to Molly describe Heaven to Lily.  Seeing the assurance on my child's face as she spoke to her sister that we would join Jill, and their grandparents, and all the others who arrived in Heaven before us--that was worth more than anything to me.

And because of Jill (and the few other people that Molly knew who have since passed away), my daughter has a tangible image of what Heaven is going to be like.  She looks forward to the day she will walk with Jesus and Mrs. Jill, and spend time with her Poppy Ed, and get to be with all of the other people who will be waiting to see her.

I know that Jill would want you all to know the love of Christ.  I know she would want you to know the forgiveness and freedom that He offers.  I know she would want you all to experience the relationship she had with Him.  If you have never talked to anyone about your faith, I would love to talk about it with you.

I know that Jill considered family, friends, and her relationship with Christ as her most treasured possessions. I know she would be so pleased to know that her life will continue to make a difference in others' lives.

Thank you so much for taking the time to celebrate the life of Jill Hollis.  

See you soon, friend. 

Photos courtesy of Cliff Hollis

Tomorrow is the Day.

When I think about a year ago tomorrow. . . and all that encompassed those last few moments with my friend, my heart starts beating really loudly and I get all clenched.  I struggle to keep those tears in my eyes--because according to Jill, it doesn't officially count as a "cry" if the tears didn't make it out of your eyes.

And when you're a habitual crier like myself, you need to tone it down a little so your Daily Cry Count isn't astronomical.  

I don't know how many times I would look at her and say, "Don't do it!" or "Don't cry!" because we both knew if one of us cried, the other was going to join immediately.

And I really didn't want to reapply her eye makeup.  It was intimidating.  

But that morning, I was stuck in this time paradox--I was begging for more time to tell her everything that I would need to tell her for the rest of my life, and simultaneously begging that her time would quickly pass to keep her from hurting any longer.  

But I walked out of that room a changed person. 

Because you can't embrace life until you've seen the nearness of death.  

And Jill would want us to embrace life.  To grab ahold of it, shake it, and make the most of every single moment and every single encounter with every single person.  

One of the ways I'm honoring my friend tomorrow is making each person I come into contact with the most important person at that moment.  I'm going to take the time to talk to them.  I'm going to ask them questions, and I'm going to really listen to their answers and try to empathize with them.  I'm not going to take another call or check my messages while talking to them.  I'm going to smile and be engaging.  I'm going to try to completely understand where they are coming from, and do my best to encourage them if they need a pat on the back. 

And I'm going to do it in a way that isn't artificial or forced.  I'm going to be the person that I would want to encounter. 

I always marveled at her ability to make someone feel like the most important person in the room--that was one of her most special qualities.  

That Jill.  Such a charmer. 

Photo courtesy of Cliff Hollis

Even if you didn't personally know Jill, I hope you will consider being a part of this special day.

I'm so interested in hearing how you spend your day tomorrow--please feel free to leave a comment with a link to your blog here for those who aren't on FB and/or a comment on the FB page so we can read what you're doing with your day. 

Voices from the Past.

Tomorrow is The Great Big Jill Day!  

I hope you are making plans to join us on this day of celebration of the life of Jill Hollis. You might also want to hop on over to Facebook and join the event page to get a good idea of what others are doing on this special day.

Megan shared this article with me a few days ago.  It's from 2005, and features Jill talking about her diagnosis and living with ALS.

Worth the read. 

Trust me on this one.  

Megan recommended, and I agree, that the last few paragraphs really define the Jill we know and love:

A 10-day mission trip to the Ukraine in October helped her devise a plan for the rest of her life. During the trip, she and others helped a hearing aid company fit hearing devices to children in orphanages for the deaf.

Though she saw poverty and deprivation the likes of which she may not encounter in Pitt County, Hollis, nevertheless, feels she can make a difference without traveling around the world to do it, she said.

"The trip was an amazing experience, but there are opportunities to make a difference in people's lives right here in front of me," said Hollis, a Pitt County District Court paralegal before her diagnosis. 


"I want to help people get closer to God. That's the legacy I want to leave."

from www.rideforlife.com

P.S.

My good friend called to tell me about this article this morning!  

I had no idea!

Jill Day

Photo courtesy of Cliff Hollis

Post-Storm Reflectiveness. And Perspective.

Post-hurricane reflection is the best.

For some reason, no matter the size of the hurricane, one always stops and realizes how lucky they are because there is always someone who has it worse than you.

Leak in your house? Someone else lost their roof.

Trees down in your yard?  Someone else had them fall all over their house and cars.

Few days off work?  Someone else lost their entire business.

No power/water for a few hours?  Someone else will go days or maybe a week or more without it.

Lost the food in your fridge?  Someone else will go without until at least payday (or maybe longer) because they spent every dime this month already.

It doesn't matter how big our problems seem, it could always be worse. 

This Wednesday, we are celebrating the life of one of my dearest friends, Jill Hollis.  If you stop over at her blog today you will find adorable photos like this one:

It really doesn't get any cuter than feathered hair and pigtails and Cosby-style sweaters!
Photo courtesy of Cliff Hollis

If I didn't gain anything else from Jill (and that would be a lie), I gained tremendous perspective.  Through her life, she taught us all that it could always be worse.  We could choose to wallow, or we could choose to trust in God, put our Big Girl (or Gentleman) Pants on, and do something about it.  

I am so thankful for the gift of my friendship with Jill.  She was my friend, my confident, my mentor, and my encourager.  She pushed all of us to be the person we were created to be, rather than letting fear and doubt get in the way.   

Sunday Summary

1. We survived Irene.

2.  Irene was the Little Category 1 storm that could!  I've never seen so much wind and rain from a Cat. 1!

3.  No school tomorrow.  I hear it's pretty rough in Beaufort Co. and a lot of people are still without water and power.

4.  We lost power at 8am Saturday morning and got it back at 3pm today (Sunday).

5.  We lost our fridge/freezer foods, a few missing shingles, debris, a smallish pine tree fell right next to our fence, we've got some wet carpet in Lily's room from a mystery leak which will require some TLC ASAP as I can already smell a weird smell in her room.

Lily walked in and stated in her best Goldilocks and the Three Bears voice, 

"Someone has pooped in my room!"

6.  We were very, very lucky and blessed not to have as much damage as some friends and neighbors.

7.  The Great Big Jill Day is this Wednesday.  We're up to 150 folks participating on Wednesday according to the Facebook event page.  Make sure you make plans to participate!

Sometimes It's Ok That It's Not The Same.

Sometimes it's ok that my world has been completely turned upside down. 

It makes me stop.  

Think.  

Focus.  

Sharpen. 

Create.

Starting a new job, making new friends, changing our family schedule.  

Figuring out correct lanes of traffic, technology, and expectations.

I miss the familiarity of my life just a short while ago. 

I really miss those crazy faces.  

I miss the routine.  I miss the expected.  

But, this girl is determined to dig deep and look for the good.  

And I found it today.  

That moment in which it felt like everything is going to be ok again.  

When I stopped and smiled at the mounting chaos because it beckoned change. 

Armed and Semi-dangerous.

Sort of. 

 Have you joined The Great Big Jill Day on Facebook?  If you didn't receive an invite, you can easily search for it in the search bar and join us.

Since Wednesday night we're up to 108 and counting. . .

Photos courtesy of Cliff Hollis

August 31, 2011: The Great Big Jill Day

Jill.  

Many of you know her, many of you love her, many of you were forever changed by her friendship, her blog, her life, and her death.  We watched (and read) as she faced a death sentence in the form of ALS and attempted to lead a life of transparency.  She loved her family and friends, she was passionate about her faith, and she was such an encouragement to us all.  

When Jill passed away on August 31, 2010, it was a bittersweet feeling of sadness and relief.  I was so happy that she was no longer in pain, that she no longer suffered, that she would no longer struggle to grab ahold of life anymore.  

But, I was so incredibly sad to say goodbye to such a good friend.  To know that things would never be the same.  

I can't believe it's been a year.   

In some ways it feels like the time has flown by.  

In other ways it feels like I've lived through each excruciating minute.   

However, when August 31st rolls around, I want to invite those of you that know her, or knew of her, or read her blog, or know her children to be a part of The Great Big Jill Day.  

Rather than spending the day mourning the loss of our dear friend, I encourage you to be a part of something bigger.  Jill always wanted us to do more, be more, and (most importantly) love more.  Rather than sitting around and feeling sorry for ourselves, Jill would want us to go out and do something because we were capable.  

Let's use August 31st as a day to change and improve the lives of those around us in honor of the way Jill changed and improved our lives.  

Some simple ideas for The Great Big Jill Day:

• Call someone who needs a friend and listen to them
• Give someone a genuine compliment
• Smile and wave hello to the people who cross your path
• Be the friend you always wanted to have
• Tell your loved ones that you love them
• Volunteer with hospice
• Tell someone about Jesus

What about you?  What one or two things can you do on August 31st to celebrate this special lady?  

I Feel Sorta Like Her

I feel just like my daughter two short years ago on her first day of school.  

Except I'm 32.  

And I don't rock purple Crocs. 

This week is my first week of school.  I feel like a new student all over again--you know, the "will they like me?"s, and "will I meet other staff people that I like and can be friends with?"s, or the "will I actually make a difference?"s are plaguing my thoughts. 

It's a little overwhelming.  

But, I'm very excited.  I've got new letters and trimmers for my bulletin boards, new ideas for fun (and fundamental) lessons, and new activities itching to be taught.  I've got brand new supplies in brand new containers, a SMARTboard, and other fun techno things to use in my classroom.  

And I've really missed hearing those little voices sing.  

Cherish.

Yesterday, Christacular and I went to visit our friends, the Copelands, at UNC-CH Children's Hospital.  Sweet baby Clark is doing much better, and yesterday they had removed most of her tubes and she was able to have her first bottle.

I melted a little when I touched her sweet baby toes.

I kinda wanted to smell her feet a little.  

Is that weird?  I don't think it's weird. 

I don't really care if you think it's weird.  

They were little precious little miniature toes peeking out from her blanket.  

Ahem.

We had a nice visit with our friends, full of laughs that only parents of broke and semi-broke children could share (and only laughs that come when Bertie, Chocowinity, and Jacksonville people are reunited).  Afterwards, Chris and I went over to Southpoint and window shopped through Anthropologie, Crate and Barrel, and Williams and Sonoma (cue heavenly music) before stopping at California Pizza Kitchen to share a BBQ chicken pizza with pineapple (heavenly music still playing). 

It was a very good day.  

Most of the time my husband is very witty, sarcastic, and full of jokes.  But there is also a side to him that a lot of people don't see.  It's the side of him that comes out when he watched those first few episodes of "Extreme Home Makeover" when the families would see their homes for the first time, or after the first ten minutes of "Up" ('what kind of children's movie is this???')  It's that thoughtful side, that compassionate side, that emotional side.  

It's a side that a lot of men don't want to talk about, and it's a side a lot of us choose to ignore.  

But last night, we were almost home and this relatively popular song came on the radio:

  

It's a sweet little song about a life cut short.  Chris said, "I like this song, but it makes me sad sometimes." And when I asked him why, he said, "'Just because it reminds me of Ayden." 

I was shocked into silence after those seven words.  

Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that Ayden's short life had a profound impact on my husband.  He went to the emergency room that day thinking he was going to find a sick baby, only to walk in to witness the worst scene imaginable.  He doesn't talk about it much, but it was a very, very bad day.  

This morning I keep thinking about what he said, and why it surprised me to hear his statement.  I guess I just assumed, like a lot of people, that he would compartmentalize his emotions for that event and then move forward.  I don't think my husband is a heartless and emotionless person (I know for a fact that that's not the case), but he's a man, and men generally keep these things to themselves.  

But the truth is, men's emotions are pretty powerful.  It's the reason they get that stupid grin on their faces when they see their girlfriends all dressed up for a date.  It's the reason they snap when someone says something inappropriate to their wives.  It's the reason they get a little teary when they hear those bagpipes at a funeral.  

We just tend to lump them into this neanderthal category.

We shouldn't be surprised when men cry.  We shouldn't be uncomfortable when their voices crack.  We shouldn't be shocked into silence when they share their emotions.  

And yet we are.  

Your spouse, your boyfriend, your son, your father has a lot of emotions tucked inside that charming and thick exterior.  They may not want to show them, but we know they are there. We know that life gets to them sometimes, and we need to allow them to share how they're feeling without judgement or ridicule.  Ladies, you need to support your men when they talk about these things.  You need to let them know that you appreciate their honest and raw emotions just as much as you appreciate their ability to be tough when you're the basket case.    

In the next few weeks, three men I know are getting ready to walk through a season of remembering their losses.  One lost a son, one lost a wife, and one lost a dad.  They may or may not want to talk about it.  They may or may not feel that they can talk about it.  But we don't need to act like they are odd or weird if their emotions leak through their eyes.  We need to recognize that their hurts are just as deep as the females in their families.  We need to give them space to share their emotions.  

We need to allow them to be strong through the shedding of their tears.  

The Great Big Jill Day

You're invited to participate in what I'm affectionately calling "The Great Big Jill Day" on August 31st.

This is not a day intended to be full of mourning and wailing and pity parties.

This is going to be a Great Big Day in honor of a Great Big Lady. 

Maybe you are related to Jill.  Maybe you worked with Jill.  Maybe you went to church with Jill.  Maybe you only know her through her blog--which, you should really take the time to read from the beginning.  Maybe you know her kids.  Maybe you know some of her friends.

However if you know her, you know she is a big deal to a lot of us.  And you know that a lot of us were forever changed by her.

And when the 31st rolls around, I think she would want us to celebrate rather than cry.  

Ok, she would be ok with us crying because we haven't forgotten her and because we miss her, but she would want us to be happy, too.  

To prime the pump, and to get you thinking,

"If you had to speak of only ONE way that Jill Hollis changed your life, what would you say?"

Leave the one way you were changed comments below to share with the group--and if you cheat and leave 4 or 5 or 109238981275389.2 ways, I will force you to narrow it down at a later point.  

But the powers that be won't mind too terribly much.  We all have a lot to say about her.

More details to come. . . 

It Only Takes a Baby

It only takes a baby to remind you how much wonder and hope this life has to offer.

It only takes a baby to remind you that stupid things like Facebook statuses, social schedules, and traffic really don't matter.

It only takes a baby to make you realize that this life is so much bigger than that pile of papers staring you in the face at work.

It only takes a baby to give you a reason to hug those around you a little bit tighter.

A baby is such a real reminder of the fragility of life. 

One of our dearest family of friends has a newborn baby at UNC-CH hospital.  She's just made it out of surgery to correct a closure in her esophagus.  After some c-section complications, the mother should be able to make the ride from Jacksonville to be with her husband and the baby very soon.  Even though the family is not out of the woods and will most likely be in the hospital with this precious baby girl for a couple of weeks, it appears that things will be ok.

If you're the praying sort, please take a moment and pray for the Copeland family.