RIP Sweet Jordan

“Ivanlee Cross the River Jordan” (Jordan)

Sept. 1, 1998 – Nov. 15, 2010

Jordan was born from champion lineage in Portland Oregon on Sept. 1, 1998. He passed away in the early morning hours of Monday, November 15, 2010 in his favorite sleeping spot on the floor of his human’s bedroom in North Georgia. At the time of his death he was being comforted by his special cat-friend, Twinkle and his human mommy, Becky Taylor.

Jordan was a very pretty boy, oh yes he was! His striking good looks and sweet personality made him the center of attention everywhere he went. Although Jordan knew he was handsome, he never let it go to his head. He remained an ever humble companion to his people throughout his years on earth.

Also, a very good boy indeed, Jordan aimed to please (almost all the time.) In the year 2000 he graduated at the top of his obedience training class. The teacher stated that, for his age, he was the most mature dog she’d ever seen.

Jordan’s hobbies included; eating, sleeping, waking his people at 3:00 a.m. simply to go outside and stare at the moon, lying on the front porch watching the snow fall, riding in cars, barking at nothing in particular, and napping in front of the fireplace. (Oh, and did I mention he loved to eat?)

He was an organizer at heart and always made sure the bathroom throw rugs were properly piled in individual heaps before he went to bed. Jordan liked things just “so-so” and took it upon himself to keep them just as he thought they should be.

Jordan had a very soft heart. He rarely ever chased cats, and even then, only chased those he didn’t personally know. He wouldn’t have hurt the proverbial flea.

Only once did he ever chew anything he wasn’t supposed to chew and never ever did he "go potty" inside the house, even up to his last day alive. (Well, maybe only a couple times)

Jordan did everything within his power to make his humans happy and proud.

He absolutely loathed lawn mowers and chased them every chance he was given. He took thunder and lightning as a personal challenge and tried to fend it off by repeatedly jumping at the sky, barking during storms. In true champion form, Jordan always emerged the winner,never giving up until the lawn mowers stopped and the storms moved on.

Jordan is survived by his three cat-siblings, Jasmine, Twinkle, and Skippyjon Jones. Jordan and Twinkle shared a very sweet, special bond.

He also leaves behind his human family, Walter and Becky Taylor, and "the boy" Adam David.

He was predeceased by his step-sister, Yeller Taylor, and dear friend (and partner in crime)Spidey-Marie Whitehead.

Jordan will be sadly missed by his humans but they find great comfort in knowing he is no longer in pain. He is undoubtedly having a wonderful time in doggy heaven, chasing bears and deer with Yeller and over turning trash cans with Spidey-Marie.

The family will have a private ceremony honoring the life of their beloved pet. No calling hours will be observed. Memorial contributions can be made to the "Send Jordan's mommy to a beach in Mexico" fund. :^)

Seriously now ...
Jordan,you quickly made a place for yourself in the heart of this "cat person" That place can never be filled by another. You were very much loved and will never be forgotten! I hope that in the end, you felt that love more than ever before. Sweet dreams pretty boy! May you enjoy eternal peace and happiness.

Becky Taylor
Nov. 15, 2010

Somebody Burned My Bridge!

I have a secret.

I've battled depression most of my life. When I say "battled" I mean I've fought tooth and nail on a daily basis to cling to a certain degree of joy.

Of course I've been more successful in some seasons than in others.

In the process of maintaining happiness, I've developed different coping skills. One of my favorites is something I refer to as "building bridges." Whenever I feel overwhelmed or know there's something unpleasant on the horizon, I mentally build a bridge which leads to the next foreseeable "positive" event. I focus on that instead of the sadness or fear that's currently threatening me and move toward it instead of wallowing in the present.

This approach is different than "denial" (although sometimes denial can be a wonderful thing)as I do address and deal with the negative situations in my life. I just focus ahead on better things to come and that helps me get through.

For the last couple years I've been gearing myself up for my fiftieth birthday. I started planning my big, no ... make that HUGE celebration, almost as soon as I realized there would be no stopping the big 5-0.

I'm just being honest. It isn't so much that I'm thrilled about being fifty and want the world to stop and acknowledge my big day by throwing me a party. It's more because I'm dreading joining the ranks of the women who've left their forties (and their "prime" according to popular belief) behind.

So in my attempt to cope, I decided to build one of my trusty bridges over my birthday. I figured a big party would do the trick. Something I could truly enjoy that would provide a distraction from the fact I'm turning fifty.

I suppose that rather than saying I've been "planning" my birthday party, I should say I started making my wishes known to those people who would be in charge of making the arrangements. Who, after all, wants to plan their own birthday celebration?

I've had a pretty good run, if I do say so myself. Looking forward to my birthday party ... what I thought would surely be the biggest celebration of my lifetime, has gotten me through for almost two years now. I've envisioned myself opening the Wendy Williams show in NYC, then jetting off to Puerto Vallarta to sit on the sand, basking in the sunshine over Banderas Bay for a week. After that, I'd fly home hopefully in time to welcome my sixth grandchild into the world.

Given the possibility that all goes well, before I know it we'll be well into September and my birthday will be long passed. I'll have nothing but beautiful memories of the exciting events of the summer of 2010.

Oh, and I'll be fifty years old.

I've got to say, this is one of the best "bridges" I've ever constructed!

So you might imagine my dismay now that I've come to realize someone has gone and burned my bridge!

What a dastardly deed!

With less than three weeks to go, it's too late to start re-building now. Part of me wants to believe there may still be the celebration I've been dreaming of. Elves perhaps, may step in and re-build my bridge while I'm sleeping.

In my world there's always room for miracles.

But realistically, I understand that's probably just not going to be the case. The bridge is gone, blasted away by lack of finances and other annoyances commonly associated with the real world.

What a downer! What lousy timing!

As always is the case, I will adjust and move on toward some glimmer of light in the distance. Worse things than turning fifty could happen to a girl. I could not be having another birthday at all.

Yes, it could be worse. I apologize for all the whining.

It's just that I worked so hard on this particular bridge. It hurts to see it lying in rubble.

Becky Taylor
July 27, 2010

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I Wish I Had A Cookie

My mother (L) and Aunt Ethel (R)

In Memory Of Aunt Ethel
2/23 - 12/08

I grew up in a ridiculously small town on the outskirts of Appalachia. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone and they all looked out for each other.

My Aunt Ethel lived two doors down the street from us. The neighbors yard that sprawled between our houses was distinctly marked with a worn path leading from our back door to her front door.

I walked (or rather ran) that path nearly every day as a child. Even as young as three years old, I made the journey by myself on a regular basis.

There was never a need to knock on Ethel's door, a mere "Hi Ethel!!!! I'm here!" as I entered her living room was good enough.

I can still hear her voice as she would call back to me, "Hello, Becky Jean! Come on in!"

Ethel always kept a cookie jar filled with macaroon cookies in her kitchen, and I would make a beeline for it first thing upon arrival. For a few minutes I'd sit at her kitchen table and chatter to her, my skinny long legs dangling off the edge of the chair as I gobbled down the delicious treat.

My mother had a sweet tooth herself, so of course we had cookies at our house too. Somehow they just didn't taste as good to me as the cookies at Ethel's house did.

The things we remember from our childhood are interesting to me. My Aunt Ethel was a wonderful woman, always gentle, kind and loving. I cherished her, and was most definitely very fond of her macaroon cookies. Even though I've long since given up eating them, I still think of her every time I spot a package of them sitting on a store shelf.

Aunt Ethel passed away only two days ago at the age of 85. She was the last one left of the Fairchild sisters. I'm glad she's gone on to Heaven and can't help but smile when I think of the reunion that must have taken place as she entered the gates. No doubt my mother and her other siblings all met her there, those big trademark "Fairchild" smiles glowing as they welcomed her in.

I was able to see Ethel during our trip to Ohio for Thanksgiving. Walt and I stopped to visit her twice while we were there. She was failing quickly but her mind was surprisingly sharp. She recognized me right away and talked about the hibiscus plant we'd given her last summer.

It was a good visit and one we were grateful for, but it left Walt and me both in tears.

I spent the better part of yesterday evening and this morning trying to no avail, to find a decently priced airline ticket so I can fly home for the memorial service. At this point, it looks like I'll either be driving or not going at all.

I can't imagine missing it but I may have no other choice.

How did life get so complicated anyway? It's been a rough week in general. Besides all the stress naturally associated with the holidays and Ethel's passing, I've got three or four other situations that are pressing, all of them "urgent" in one way or another.

I have important appointments scheduled for tomorrow night and Friday. Even if I don't go to Ohio, I will likely cancel those. A couple other situations are causing me aggravation and grief too, but I can't do anything about them right now.

So instead, I have chosen to sit in my pajamas and sort my thoughts for a while. Dealing with life logically can almost be a handicap at times. I'm not without emotions, don't get me wrong. It's just that logic tends to prevail and I am able to slip into this "auto-mode" as I manage my way through the necessary evils in life.

But you know, sitting here as I negotiate all the pros and cons and consider all the what's and if's, I find my mind repeatedly drifting back to one thing.

I really just wish I had a cookie.

My Happy Place Needs Renovating

When I was a little girl my father always told me, "Be nice to people, Beck. You never know what another person might be going through".

Not that I ever was a mean spirited person, but even now I consciously try to be mindful of others feelings. I suppose I've also been naive enough to think they should be considerate enough to return the favor. After forty eight years of living on this earth, I'm still in the process of wrapping my mind around the possibility that it's probably not the case. The truth is, some people just plain don't care what anyone else is feeling.

I have my own way of handling things when times get rough. For instance, I distract myself as much as possible. I'm not talking about denial, just distraction. I do what I can about any given stress inducing situation, and then I put it on a shelf and move on to whatever else might be necessary to occupy my mind with happier things.

Most of the time I go in search of humor. With rare exception, a good laugh is undoubtedly waiting just around the corner. Rest assured, if it's there I WILL find it! I consider that aspect of my personality a "gift" from God. It's gotten me through a lot of turbulent times in my life ... and it's helped me maintain sanity on days when I felt the intense need to hurt somebody!

Lately, it's been getting more and more difficult to fill my mind with enough happy thoughts to drown out all the stuff that's going on around me. I can't even write about most of it because I don't want to say anything that might possibly do harm to another person. Neither do I desire to expose anyone's "dirty laundry". That's not my job. After all, just like me, almost every one I know is going through something stressful, even emotionally devastating, right now.

There are days, like today for example, when I have a particularly hard time choking back tears and being strong. As my youngest daughter, Emily once said, "Sometimes I wish I could just be a normal person."

Like Emily, today I want to have a good old fashioned melt down ... give a few people a piece of my mind ... kick some ... well you get the picture.

Then, I hear my father say again, "Be nice to people, Beck. You never know what another person might be going through" and end up feeling guilty for considering any other option than "sucking it up" and forging ahead. Inevitably, I will manage to find room on these big broad shoulders of mine to squeeze in just a little bit more resilience .

So now, I will retreat once again to my "happy place", hang out the "do not disturb" sign, and stay there until I feel it is safe to come back out.

And one of these days, I will find the humor, even in the many situations I am currently dealing with. You can count on it!