lost in the Caymans...

The end of February I joined a few of my family members on a cruise vacation. One of our ports was the Cayman Islands. This destination is part of the British Commonwealth. Why does that matter? Because they speak English.

One would think getting around in an English speaking country  would be easy, right? One would think...

As soon as we got off the ship we spoke with a taxi company at the pier. Our goal was to spend the day at a beach. Simple enough. The taxi representative told us, for a reduced price a tour bus driver would drop us at the beach site at the beginning of the tour. On the bus we go, but the driver doesn't stop until quite a bit later. The bus unloads in a place called Hell. At this point we speak with the driver and learn our desired location is five miles behind us. We could continue the tour as his unintended captives or make our way be city bus in a strange city to an unfamiliar destination. 

We chose the bus.

Thankfully, the city bus driver took us directly to the beach where we enjoyed lunch and sunshine.

I share this story because these are the things I miss about the overseas life. My heart longs for something you may not expect - I miss mystery meals because the waiter didn't understand my order and brought me what they thought I wanted. I miss getting lost in unfamiliar territory. Mis-communication is such a common occurrence in other lands. When traveling abroad these were a constant source of amusement for me. While others were often frustrated, I was enjoying the adventure (usually with a hearty laugh). In America, there is no mystery when placing my order at a restaurant, the waiter is likely to bring exactly what I requested. In America, I drive myself and have GPS in my car and on my phone. This means I rarely get off the beaten path and I have no chance of ending up in a place other than my desired location. Sure there were moments when living an uncertain reality was exhausting; but, it kept life interesting! 

While living overseas - every chore, every errand, every day was an adventure; often these unexpected experiences created the best memories...sort of like hitching a city bus ride out of Hell in the Cayman Islands.

just Sheri, enjoying the memories/adventure along the journey of life

In rememberance...

This week my birth dad would have celebrated his 56th birthday. But in January, his children, siblings and friends attended a memorial service to commemorate the end of his life instead.

I spent most of the previous three decades estranged from this man. But, I still remember him with fondness. He never met a stranger - everyone was a friend. He had a LARGE laugh and was often joking. He was passionate about the gold industry; where he built his career. He always wanted to be a father of four...he left behind four children, two boys and two girls - of which I am the oldest. His life dream was to own a Dunkin Donuts franchise. When I was a young girl he attended the training to explore the possibility and the last time I saw him in November he was still talking about this as a life dream. When he found something he really liked, he wanted to share it with everyone he knows.

Death of a loved one is never easy. Death by suicide leaves lives fragmented.

In memory of David Stacy...

This photo was taken while touring the gold mine where he worked.

small things become sacred

I was recently thinking about how familiar and insignificant things can become sacred or divine.

Cleaning a house is a chore, but when done with love for another it becomes a divine act.

Buying groceries is a dreaded task (at least in my world), but when purchased for someone in need it becomes a divine act.

Playing board games can be a form of personal entertainment, but when shared with someone who is usually forgotten it becomes a divine act.

Even common space such as a laundromat can become a sacred space when looking for ways to serve others less fortunate than ourselves.

I think too often we believe the sacred or divine is out of our grasp, or too hard to attain. We think it is somewhere else, or for those much better or more holy than us. But, I am coming to see that small things become sacred when done with great love.

just Sheri, attempting to be faithful in the small things

What's that? a payphone

Recently I was waiting at the metro stop for my train, when what do I see? A payphone! A payphone? Do you remember these?

I thought the advent of the cell phone had done away with such things. Yet, there was the phone. It seemed out of place. It peaked my interest and curiosity.

I picked up the receiver just to see if it worked. Yes, it had a ringtone. I wondered if anyone ever used it. Definitely not in the time I was standing there waiting for my train. 

In case you're wondering, the cost is $0.50. So, the lyrics of a popular song would have to change to "here's TWO quarters. Call someone who cares." But, I suppose that could work...if they could find a payphone.

It isn't often I have a payphone sighting. I simply had to take a picture. When was the last time you saw a working payphone? Better yet, when was the last time you saw someone using a payphone?

just Sheri, strange sightings and curiosities

Christmas Day

On Christmas Day, Kenyon and I hung out with the Senavanh clan.

We ate excellent food.

We watched young ones enjoy themselves.

 Santa made an appearance to hand out the gifts.

Even some big kids received gifts from Santa.

just Sheri, getting caught up from the hectic holidays