Eulogy

My grandmother asked me to write something for my Pappaw's funeral yesterday. It was impossibly hard to write it, and even harder to read it. I waffled between poetry and prose, searching for just the right words, pondering over meter and style and rhythm. 

I cried.

And I finally wrote from the heart. 

It's rough around the edges. It's not exactly profound. It's nothing that will ever win an award or rock the world of publication. It's not really poetry, it's not really prose. 

But I was proud to share it with my family. Proud to honor his memory in my own little way. Proud to be asked, and prouder still to deliver. And today, I share it with you.

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For Pappaw

We remember you today.

Your heart, your smile, your laugh.

We'll close our eyes and think of you

Safely wrapped in angel wings

Surrounded by snowy clouds

And warmth and happiness and love.

We honor you today.

Your life, your service, your memory.

We'll close our eyes and think of you

In uniform, all pressed and dressed, 

Your shiny shoes, your mile-wide grin,

A young man off to war.

We're missing you today.

Your presence, your eyes, your being.

We'll close our eyes and think of you

At birthday parties, sleeping sound,

Your festive hat askew,

Children playing at your feet.

We celebrate you today.

Our husband, our father, our friend.

We'll close our eyes and think of you.

We'll hold you close and think of you.

We'll lift you up and think of you.

Forever in our hearts.

The History of a War Hero

In December of 1942, a young man from Tennessee, who we'll call Junior, got a letter from the United States Government that would change his life forever. It was a draft notice. He was to report to Fort Orglethorp, Georgia in January, 1943, to be inducted into the United States Army, to prepare for combat in World War II.

Junior bounced around from army base to army base, from Idaho to California, Texas to Washington DC. Finally, in late 1944, Junior departed for over seas duty and arrived in Belgium, Germany. He was assigned to Company I, 18th Regiment, First Infantry Division of the United States Army.

On the 8th day of February, 1945, Junior saw his first combat action. His regiment was under serious enemy fire when a bullet struck his rifle, destroying it.  The bullet richocheted as a result, grazing Junior's left ear, leaving him partially deaf, and burning the cornea of his left eye. His rifle saved his life that night.

He was treated at the 18th Field Hospital, and kept out of combat for 3 weeks until the bandage could be removed from his eye.  By the first of March, Junior was headed back into combat.

In mid-March, 1945, Junior and his division were in the Early Crossing of the Rhine River. On March 24, 1945, he was injured again when struck by burning shrapnel from a white phosphorous shell.  It struck him in the face, and ignited his field jacket, which was completely destroyed, although it saved his upper body from what would have been life-threatening burns.  He also took shrapnel to his left thigh.

Once again, Junior was headed to the hospital, this time the 187 General Hospital near London to have the shrapnel removed from his leg. He was there recuperating from the surgery from the 25th of March until the first of May, 1945. He would have a slight limp for the rest of his life.

By May, this brave soldier was prepared to return to battle once again. He was enroute to combat duty at Camp Lucky Strike when the war in Europe ended.

Junior's duties in WWII included that of a scout, a rifleman, a grenade launcher, and a B.A.R. Team member. Upon returning to the United States, he was decorated with 2 bronze stars, a Purple Heart with a cluster, a Combat Infantry Badge, a World War Victory badge, a Good Conduct Medal, and several other awards.

When he returned to the states, he married, had three beautiful baby girls, and grandchildren eventually followed. Junior became known as "Pappaw," and he was a doting grandfather to my cousins and me.

Mammaw and Pappaw, 1984.

Me and Cousin Carrie with Pappaw, circa 1987.

A more recent picture of Carrie and me with Pappaw, September 2010.

Pappaw with my brother, Adam. One of our favorite pictures, ever. 1987.

On November 23, 2011, Pappaw turned 88 years old. And today, November 25, 2011, he left this world for a better place.


He was a husband. He was a father. He was a war hero. He was my grandfather. I love you, Pappaw. 


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Author's Note: The information included above is from a timeline Pappaw gave us a few years ago. He never talked about the war, and if asked, would change the subject. Only after years of asking did he relinquish what information I've included in this post. This is all we know about his years during the war. For all you history buffs, I'm sorry if I've gotten anything wrong. I plan to spend some time researching the movement of his battalion at a later date, and will include any amendments here I may uncover.

Mmm, Turkey

Thanksgiving makes me go all Homer Simpson. Turkey, mac n' cheese, pie...





There's nothing I don't love about this holiday. Great food--check. Quality family time--check. Football--check. Pie--check. More pie--check check. Permission to start drinking before noon--triple check.


The only thing it's missing...well, is the Swedish Chef.







I'll be back once the food coma wears off. Happy Thanksgiving, from Abby Gabs to you.

Just Be Enough: Silencing My Inner-Doubter

My fingers fly across the keys. Words spring up on the page, black against stark white. I can hear the dialogue in my brain--the characters' voices clearer than my own. I type and type, the story unfolding before me in a way I've never experienced before.

I don't just feel like a writer. I am a writer.

The scene comes to an end, and like a sprinter, I stop and breathe and try to regain my center. The story I'm telling lives within me -- I am just a conduit. The cursor blinks at me, awaiting my command. I instinctively check my word count. Thirty-three thousand, eight hundred and twenty nine words. The number delights me, and I sit back in amazement, momentarily stupefied.

Where did this come from? Is this the feeling that's been trapped inside of me for so many years, begging to be released? The high that comes with a 75-page-and-counting manuscript is more than addictive.

My mind wanders. I begin thinking about the steps I will take once my novel is finished. I should start doing research on local publishing houses, I think. I already have two friends who have offered to read my book, another to edit it. I'll need to print out a few copies to keep on hand. I wonder if I know anyone who can help me break into the business. 

I imagine myself as a Published Author. My heart begins to pound in my chest, my mouth goes dry.

Trying to regain some focus, I scroll up, read the passage I've just finished. I strike words from the page, second-guessing what came so naturally only a few minutes before. Doubt creeps in. The voice inside my head speaks over those of my characters. 

"No one else in the world would be interested in this subject matter."

"Do you know how many people dream of being an author and never make it?"

"Don't expect to win a Pulitzer with this stuff. You are no Toni Morrison!"

The cursor continues to blink at me, although now I feel as if it's staring at me judgmentally, waiting for the next bit of garbage I'll instruct it to include. The confidence I felt a few minutes ago has been totally derailed by my self-doubt.

My husband peeks over my shoulder, notes the page number, and beams. "Seventy-five whole pages? Babe, that's so awesome! I'm so proud of you!"

The clouds of uncertainty begin to part, and I wonder what this all looks like from his point of view. I realize that he sees me reaching for my dream, doing what I love, following my passion. I think to myself, "published or not, you're WRITING. And you're HAPPY."

The cursor winks at me again. I close out the sound of my inner-doubter and tune in to my characters' voices again. I take a deep breath, place my fingers on the keys, and let the words come. I'll second guess myself tomorrow. Today, I am a writer.

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Five Things I'm Grateful For Today (After Seeing Breaking Dawn Part 1, The Midnight Show)

This blog doesn't really need much of an introduction. I mean, the title is pretty self-sufficient, dontcha think? Plus, I got approximately 4 hours of sleep last night, so I'm feeling like this set-up will work for today's objective.


Number 5: I'm grateful today that I'm not a movie critic. 
Because I'd hate to be chased through the streets by an angry mob of tweens (and other Twilight fans) once they heard my REAL opinion about Breaking Dawn, Part 1.

This is the point in the show when a non-sparkly vampire (like Angel) jumps out of the shadows and saves me from the pitchforks. 

I won't go into details here, for fear of spoiler alerts, but let me just say one thing. The good people at iTunes, and all the obscure pop bands who contributed to the movie soundtrack, are going to make a KILLING today. Why? Because teenagers are easily convinced that, because a song played the first time Bella and Edward did the hibbity-dibbity, it MUST be on their iPod RIGHT NOW. I'm not overexaggerating when I say that the first half of the movie was little more than overly-long music montages. Seriously.


Ok, before a rant starts, I'm moving onto to
Number 4: I'm grateful we chose to see the movie at Cinebarre.
Not just because it's quirky and fun and hip. But because we could have alcohol. And it was delivered right to our seats by a nice young lady who was only mostly confused by our large group of 30-somethings at a teeny-bopper movie.

I've never been happier to hand out $9 for a glass of Malbec IN MY LIFE.

Wine, paired with surprisingly good appetizers, a secret stash of candy, and always entertaining company, made the evening an enjoyable one for me. (Also, leaning over and sharing whispered witty comments about the movie, some of which might have been t-shirt worthy, if I could remember them now.)


Number 3: I'm grateful for my superstar husband, who I'm always grateful for, but I'm EXTRA grateful today.
Not only did he get up yesterday morning at 4:30 a.m. for a 9 hour day of class, he totally came along for the fun despite the fact that he's not a Twilight fan AT ALL.

It's true. He does.

And did I mention he was our designated driver? And that he had to be up and out the door by 7:30 again this morning? Brian. Is. Great.


Number 2: I'm grateful for free, glow-in-the-dark fangs. No further explanation needed.

After a 10-minute photo shoot, I went with scary. Because my sexy vampire face was more comical than come-hither.

Number 1: More than anything, I'm grateful I have an awesome group of friends who were willing to stay up till 3 a.m. to see a movie that ultimately sucked. 
And not in a sultry vampire way. More in the traditional sense.

I tried to do several things with this photo in Photoshop...including realistic fangs and adding sparkles to our skin. It was too hard, I gave up, and drew them in with the paintbrush. That's because I'm dedicated to bringing you the very best of my work every day, readers. You're welcome.

Not only were we treated to an array of cocktails, a delicious dinner, and a sinful dessert, we were able to share the evening with some of our dearest friends. All of whom agreed, in varying degrees, of the movies sheer suckiness. Now that is true friendship.


*Author's note: Let me go on record as saying that I have read, and enjoyed, the Twilight series. I have also watched, and enjoyed, the previous movies. This post comes from the disappointment of a fan. If you're a fan of the books, and have even enjoyed the previous movies (to a degree), you should go ahead and see Breaking Dawn Part 1. It hits all the high points you'll expect as a reader. However, a few things to expect as a movie-goer:  the special effects took a major downturn in this film, and the sappy music montages make you want to drive a stake into the nearest vamp's heart. Oh, and Kristin Stewart needs to eat a cookie or two. Even before she's supposed to be "dying. Enjoy!

NaNoWriMo Update, And Things I'm Learning in the Process of Writing My First Novel

Alright, sports fans. For those of you at home keeping score, I hit a major milestone with NaNoWriMo yesterday. I officially hit the halfway point!

All I have to say about that is WOO HOO!


I really don't want to jinx myself by boasting about how well it's going (far better than I originally anticipated!!) but, according to my NaNo dashboard, I'm right on schedule.

Keep in mind, I haven't written anything today, so that date should change by the end of the day. Because once I publish this blog, I plan to really dig in and write until around 4:30. Because I'm an addict, that's why. 


I expected to be exhilarated, and possibly daunted, by this process. I also expected to hit plateaus, and to write some stuff that could only be classified as poo. What I DIDN'T expect was to learn some major lessons about myself, as both a writer and a person. I thought I'd share some of those lessons here with you today.


As a Writer, I Have Learned That:
* Being a blog author only fuels my creativity, and my confidence.  I've been writing Abby Gabs now for almost a year. When I sat down and created this blog, I made a promise to myself that I was going to try and post at least 5 times a week. And that on days when I woke up and couldn't think of something to write, I would put on my thinking cap and come up with something worth writing. Granted, sometimes it's just plain silliness. Other times, my posts have been completely selfish--100% about me. But, in the midst of daily posts, I feel like I've written a few that I can really be proud of--ones that really define who I am as a writer, as a woman, and as a wife. With my creativity sparked on an (almost) daily basis, it becomes less difficult to "get into the groove" when I sit down to write my book each day. And the confidence from having a small, but loyal, readership keeps me motivated. 


* Google is an invaluable tool. I can't tell you how many times I've turned to my favorite search engine throughout the first part of this process. Considering the fact that I live in rural South Carolina, consider PayLess Shoesource to be premiere shopping, and am stuck in a career that's less than illustrious, I need a lot of information to fuel my main character. That's where Google comes in. What kind of dress would a sophisticated business woman wear to a fancy dinner out? If a high-roller were to show up at a restaurant and order Champagne, what label would he choose? What are the most popular wine bars in Manhattan right now?

Oh Google, you complete me.

I'm using my imagination where it counts, believe me. But some things you just can't dream up. Thanks to Google, my main character is thriving in a believable environment in New York City--a place I've only visited once. Thanks, Google. I'll include you in my "people to thank" section.


* I can hear my own voice through my character. What I mean is, she's kooky, witty, sarcastic, self-critical, and less than confidant. She struggles with all the same things I do: image and weight issues, discontentment with her career, always doubting her next move. She thrives when she's allowed to use her creativity; she shuts down when she feels caged when her creativity isn't needed, or wanted. She is me. Only younger and single, with better clothes and a small apartment in Manhattan. You know...just small differences.


* I write in a linear fashion. From what I understand, this isn't the norm. Most people jump around in the story, writing scenes as they pop into their heads. I don't do that. I started at the beginning, and other than one little blip on the radar, I've written the story in chronological order.

Not to say that I haven't come up with ideas for future scenes, and jotted down a few notes to jog my memory when I actually get there. But I'm writing my story the way I'd want to read it. No shuffling necessary. Which will make December (editing month) that much easier. I hope.


I think the most interesting lesson I've learned throughout this process, though, is one I've learned as a person. And it is, simply, this:


Apparently, size does matter.

Sixty pages of manuscript. And it's still growing.

My Favorite Way To Waste Time (When I'm Not Twitter-Stalking Donnie Wahlberg)

I know, I know. I'm really late to the party. I can think of five bloggers off the top of my head who have ALREADY WRITTEN the post I'm about to write. But you know what, that's ok. Because my mostly new obsession is totally worth writing about. And for those who have never heard of Pinterest...well, let me welcome you down the rabbit hole, my friends.

Ahh, Pinterest. How you intrigue me.

Quick, yet thorough explanation of Pinterest: think of it as a digital pin board, where you can collect all the things you love in one place. In your internet surfing time, are you constantly saving things to your favorites? Bookmarking items, only to forget where that bookmark wound up? Pinterest solves that problem. Are you a recipe hunter? Create a folder for all the yummy things you want to try, pin those recipes to your Pinterest board, and the next time you need an idea for dinner--voila. There it is, all in once place.


Ok, so maybe that wasn't so "quick." But it was definitely "thorough."


I first came to Pinterest when I started looking for tattoos back in August. And for the longest time, that's all I really looked for--photos of other people's tattoos that I liked, or other sources of inspiration to help me create my own tattoo.

And yes, in case you're wondering...I still look at tattoos. :0)

Once I found my tattoo idea (pictured above), I pretty much left Pinterest alone for awhile. Then one day recently, when I couldn't come up with a blog topic to save my life, I turned to Pinterest to wake up my creativity.


And I wound up with eleventy-hundred boards.


Ok, maybe not eleventy-hundred, but close.


Now I'm obsessed with pinning EVERYTHING. Recipes...CHECK!

Clever Do It Yourself projects...CHECK!

Super-hot pictures of Donnie Wahlberg in action...TRIPLE CHECK!

No need to thank me.

*Abby pauses to wipe drool from chin.*


In truth, anytime I feel like I need a little inspiration, I turn to Pinterest to get me "unstuck." There's a gazillion and one things on the internet. Pinterest just allows me to organize all those that I'm actually interested in. And I can find them all in one little corner of the world wide web.


Truly, at Pinterest, you'll find things that will make you chuckle...

I thought this relevant after the last series of photos uploaded.

Things that will make you say "AWWW..."

And possibly, also "who's a cute widdle puppy-wuppy face?"

Things that will make you want to pack your bags and head for the airport:

Santorini, Greece. Yes, please.

And words that you will print and tack to your desk for inspiration:

SO pertinent to me right now, as I continue to plow through NaNoWriMo!

And if you're more interested in other things (modern art, decorating tips, baby stuff) you'll find all those things on Pinterest, too! It isn't only the world's most entertaining time suck (although it will keep you entertained for hours, and is known to be extremely addictive.) It's a way to wake up your senses, find your inspiration, and spark your creativity again.


If you're interested in any of the many things I've included in the photo collages below, feel free to message me and I'll send you a link.


Better yet, send me your email address, and I'll invite you to join the Pinning party. Then you can fall down the rabbit hole with me and all the other Pinterest addicts in the world.


And seriously, you're welcome for the half-naked Donnie Wahlberg. You can stop sending me text messages, emails, Tweets, and roses. I'm okay with sharing. 

Focused Friday

I've got so much catching up to do. I've been slack with my writing for the past day or two. I'm falling behind, according to my NaNoWriMo Dashboard, and so today, I'm focusing on crossing the 20,000 word line.


Well, except for when I'm focusing on other things. Like writing this blog. Or creating this image in Photoshop:

What can I say? I have to get inspiration from somewhere, right?


"Write on!"


Word count at time of publishing this very brief blog: 18,030.

It's Been One of Those Weeks

Jury duty, road construction outside my front door, annoying customers who make me want to claw my eyes out...


Yeah. Forget Calgon. Captain Morgan, take me away.

Yes, PLEASE.

When I have weeks like this one, I oftentimes imagine what it would be like to have superpowers. The ability to become invisible would help. Perhaps the gift of flight--I could be in the Keys by noon.


But I still think if I had to choose one superpower over all the others, I'd choose Mario's fireball ability. And here are my top five reasons why.

Top Five Reasons Why I Wish I Could Shoot Fireballs Like Mario (as in, the Plumber. Not Batali.)

Reason #5: I'd always be invited to birthday parties.

Who needs matches when you've got fireballs?

Reason #4: I'd become imperative in the off chance there was ever a major blackout.

My precious. MWAhahaha...ahem. Ooh. Sorry.

Reason #3: I could melt stuff. Any kind of stuff. Especially the kind of stuff that really annoys me, like my work phone. 

Pew Pew Pew Pew...

Reason #2: I could use my fireball ability to singe the eyebrows of customers (and Bowsers) who infiltrate my lair and yell at me for no apparent reason.

It's always the shorts ones you have to watch out for.

And finally, Reason #1: I could finally live out my life long dream of being Buffy's sidekick in the next apocalypse.

Take that evil zombie. {insert witty retort via Joss Whedon here}

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

It never matters the context. Whenever I hear or see the word "zombie," I immediately start singing the song by the Cranberries.

Not that I actually know the lyrics, but I can pretend.

You know: ♪♫ ZOMBEEEY, ZOMBEEEY, ZOMBEEEY EY EY EY EY, OH OH OH OH...♪♫

Sigh.