Godwink

I've got a G-dwink to tell you about! This is too exciting. You know

that things always happen for a reason even though we don't know them

for a while, right?

So, here goes...

I've got this care package I've been putting together for my son, SSgt.

Rob, who's in Kunsan, Korea. He doesn't need much because they're

mostly in a "real" place. He did ask me for a few things and I actually

managed to gather them all after about 2 months. No joke, he asked me

for this stuff sometime in February, 2010.

If I lived in a normal town, not on top of a mountain at 7,000 feet

where there aren't any "real" stores, I probably would have had this

stuff bought and shipped and done with. No, I did this in G-d's time.

There's a reason...

You know there's always a reason, right?

It was a short list of stuff: Jelly Bellies. My boy wants Jelly

Bellies, he's gonna get Jelly Bellies. Parmesan flavored Goldfish

Crackers. A few oddities that he likes and can't get in Korea.

It took MONTHS to find the right-flavor Goldfish. No "flavor blasted"

kind. He doesn't like 'em. He likes the plain Parmesan flavor I used

to tempt him with when he was little. I found them on Thursday in a

store that was closing its doors up here. Right up front in the basket.

Joe took me to CostCo a few weeks ago so he could have some salmon. The

man loves fish. I despise it. He likes CostCo salmon. While he got

his fish, I wandered around looking for the gum Rob wanted and whatever

else I could find. The Jelly Bellies came in a 5-pound cannister of 49

flavors. Real Jelly Bellies, but the Kirkland/CostCo brand name.

So, I got everything on Thursday and started packing it up. I couldn't

drive on Friday because I'm on some new migraine medicine that makes me

unsafe on the road so I planned not to take it on Saturday.

Saturday errands, drug out of my system and rarin' to get my packages

mailed. I even have a birdie care package for an AF Mom in Orlando to

send out. USPS in Big Bear Lake, here I come.

I've got it all filled out, the customs form, the stuff is all ready to

go, but not sealed or weighed yet. Oh, drat - that's a window I hear

closing. It's only 1:00! I know the PO in Big Bear City is open until

2:00. I'm gonna head right over there.

Here we are at Big Bear City now, 1:15 p.m. Lines full of people. A

guy waves at me and says, "you aren't trying to MAIL something, are ya?"

Ummm, yeah, I am. They're open, right? He said, well, kind of. Mail

can be picked up but it cannot be mailed on Saturdays. They made new

rules last week.

Can we all have a big "OY VEY!"

I have been shlepping this package all around the valley trying to get

it mailed since I found the Goldfish Crackers. What's stopping me?

Here's what stopped me...

My son, John had his buddy Robert for an overnight Friday and Saturday.

We live in a mobilehome estate park and there's a clubhouse with a pool

and a Jacuzzi and exercise room. The kids were running in and out of

the pool and the hot tub like 15-year-old energy machines.

Not a bad picture unless you know a little bit of history. Robert, the

friend, is a newly diagnosed Type 1 (insulin-dependent) diabetic. He's

still pretty new at knowing his symptoms.

I had been reluctant to keep him overnight until now because his sugars

were so unpredictable. I decided to give it a go this time because he's

gained a lot of understanding about what to do and what his lows feel

like and his highs and what he can eat. I also know a lot about

diabetes because of the work I do.

So, after exercising like 2 crazy people, Robert tells me, "Mrs. Blake,

I think I'm not feeling so well." I saw his pale face, white lips,

shaking hands and grabbed my son. I told Johnny to sit with him. Don't

let him get up and I'll be right back.

I RAN to the car, grabbed the JELLY BELLIES and ran back into the

clubhouse. I ripped them open and we slowly fed him the lifesaving

sugar to bring him out of a very serious low-sugar crisis.

Those Jelly Bellies were there because G-d knew I was going to need them

that day.

Thank G-d.

Love,

CherylThis is the actual