Something More

When I first moved back to Minnesota, I rode to work with my husband. It was a good arrangement and included a lot of stopping for dinner on our way home. As my position changed, I drove a lot more often. Later, my office moved across the river which ended the car pool. On my way home, I would often turn up my music really loud as the traffic was terrible. One of my favorites was the country song, Something More.

One of the things that no one tells you about working in the field of philanthropy is that many of your donors will be older. You will learn all about them and visit their homes. You might even meet their extended family. Eventually, some of them will die on you. You will become a regular with the florist for funeral bouquets. The reverse is also true. Some of them wil be young. I made a visit for a memorial fund after a family buried their son. I will not likely ever forget that visit. I have helped a member of the U faculty set up a fund in her memory shortly before cancer won the battle. I even took my daughter to a memorial service of one of my most dedicated volunteers. On those days, the song always stuck with me.

I had one of those days today. I took my daughter to get her teeth cleaned before swimming lessons. She does a pretty good job brushing but she likes candy and she still doesn't drink white milk. By default, she drinks juice or chocolate milk. I heard the dreaded word cavity and I could feel my lip shake. It got worse when the dentist reassured me that they could do one side right now and I could schedule a visit to come back. I like going to the dentist on the same level that I like to go get a new picc line. I will do just about anything to avoid doing both. The sound of the drill on my darling daughter was enough to make me want to throw up on my shoes. When it was done, my daughter reached in the prize box and found me a sparkle blue ring to match hers. On our way to school later, we heard the song again. I don't think it applies to me anymore.

Blessings,

Cindy