"Have a firm handshake and look them in the eye." -Daddy

 "Have a firm handshake and look them in the eye." Those are the two things my dad has always told us to do, and those are the two things that sealed the deal in landing my first teaching job. I was in my last semester of college, which is student teaching for those in colleges of education. I applied for a position in the public high school where I was student teaching, and in a prestigious Catholic high school in the same town. I had a lot of experience working with the public for someone my age, as I had been a bank teller since I was 16. During college, I worked in the drive thru in a busy bank on Dauphin Street in Mobile. When it came to teaching, though, I was as green as a shamrock in a leprechaun's hat on St. Patrick's Day. I remember going to the interview that day. I ended the call with my dad as I drove up. Before saying "I love you," the last thing he said was, "look them in the eye and have a firm handshake." He had told us this all our lives, but it really stuck with me that day. 

                                                 My dad and me after my college graduation

I wanted to learn and gain as much experience as I could, so I also applied for a Summer job at Sylvan Learning Center. I got the calls on the same day that I was hired at the Catholic school and at Sylvan. I was ecstatic! This was the Friday before my graduation on Saturday. I was so excited about this news and the new chapter in my life that I didn't rest well for days. I remember being absolutely exhausted, but unable to sleep. We had a family cookout after graduation, and my husband, Jason, surprised me with Jack, our now 15 year old dachshund. It was such a wonderful time in my life. I spent my graduation money buying the things Jack needed, then my dad and I vacationed at the river in the camper for the next week. 

                                                    Jack at the river right after I got him

I taught at that school for three years. I would probably still be there had we not moved out of state for an upward move in Jason's career. I made lifelong friends among the faculty there. The department chair who hired me later told me that another applicant and I were equal. He was having a hard time deciding between us. There were two factors that led him to choose me: I looked him in the eye and had a firm handshake. My eyes had to have been as big as saucers when he said that. I couldn't tell my dad fast enough! The chair and I had grown close at this time, and I shared it with him. He was aware of the relationship between my dad and me. He thought it was as cool, special, and wise on my dad's part as I do. 

                    Part of the McT SS Dept when I met them at a PD conference one Summer

                McT Peeps- Angelo, me, Mr. McAtee, and Kirk (the dept. chair who hired me)

My teaching career lasted 12 full school years and part of 13. My nerves and the rapid decline of society got the best of me after that. I was a social studies teacher during my tenure, and I taught US Government, Economics, US History I and II, Ancient and Modern World History, Career Prep, Current Events, and I think that's it. I had hundreds of opportunities to share my dad's wisdom and that story with my students. I was 23 my first year, and those students were juniors and seniors. The oldest are now in their early 30s, and my last students are seniors this year. I've been out of the classroom three years now, and I am still contacted to write letters of recommendation, help with resumes', etc. I am always happy to do so. One mom even called me this school year to see if I could help motivate her son to make better grades. I was, again, happy to do so and to have been remembered. I hope "my kids" will always remember the good things I taught them and learn from mistakes they saw me make. I also hope they will know that Mrs. Noble will always do what she can to help her "kiddos."

                                                Me at school on Read Across America Day

Back to my dad. The first serious conversation I remember having about the firm handshake and eye contact is when I was in 7th grade and he told me that I needed to address a coach about playing time. My parents didn't hassle teachers and coaches, but my dad wanted me to ask this coach why I wasn't playing much and what I needed to do to see more playing time. This was a woman, so I don't remember a handshake being involved, but he reiterated "look her in the eye." I was terrified, but now I am thankful for that experience. When I coached, I respected the kids that came to me (although I tried to be fair) because I remembered the guts that took. 

I am pushing 40, and I still talk to my parents on the way home every day. I value their wisdom so much. My dad no longer tells me about that handshake and eye contact because he knows I'll remember. He tells me other things, though, and I can't imagine where I would be without either of them. 

                                                    My parents and me on Easter this year

This is in honor of my parents, Jody and Donna Daniels, 

and

my department chair, Kirk Powell, who recognized an ambitious applicant with good parents.

Pearl: The Little Rescue Dog Who Made a Big Difference

In memory of Pearl Noble, November 2005 - April 5, 2021

This pic of Pearl was taken by Gary Horton at a GH Christmas parade. It was the headline on AL.com one year.

With the exception of the brief time between Charlie and Jack, I've always had a dog. Pearl, however, was my first rescue dog. Mine and Jason's first baby was Jack. A year later, we got Bruiser, aka Bee, to be Jack's buddy. Both of them came from the same breeder because we were ignorant about the importance of adopting versus shopping. I've blogged about this before, but Voice for the Animals started one day during a Government class I was teaching when a student was reading a newspaper story aloud about an abused dog. Although Jack and Bee had always lived lives of love and luxury, that dog's suffering started something in me that made me want to do all I could to change the lives of animals in need. 

Pearl and her doxie brothers, Bee (L) and Jack (R)

A couple of years later, a coworker from the school mentioned above found a white dachshund on Dauphin Island with a note tied around her neck that said she was deaf and needed a home. I love all dogs and cats, but they knew I had two dachshunds and was into rescue, so they called me. It just so happened that I was going South that weekend to run an animal rescue race. The ladies from the school made arrangements for Pearl (named for her color and my great-grandmother) until I could pick her up. After the race, my dog-loving cousin, Cindy, and I drove to get her. That was December of 2009. 

The note that Pearl was wearing when she was found, and our cousin Cindy with Pearl on the day of rescue

Since I was a teacher, this was during Christmas break. We took Pearl to the vet immediately. She tested positive for heartworms. Pearl had the most beautiful blue eyes, but the vet said that one had been damaged due to a hard lick on the head. We had her heartworms treated, had her spayed, and she was as good as new. Voice for the Animals and the Clarke County Animal Shelter Task Force were just getting underway at this time, and I took Pearl to every function possible. We participated in Christmas Parades and spoke to school children, Boys and Girls Clubs, civic organizations, and anywhere that would listen to us talk about being the voice for animals in need, spaying/neutering, and adopting/not shopping. I still see random people who call me "the dog lady" or "Pearl's Mom," both of which I love. Pearl has done so many cool things to be the voice for animals in need like being on the radio numerous times, going to Vacation Bible School, nursing homes, 5Ks, car shows, shelter shopping at Tractor Supply, and countless other appearances. I can't fail to mention that she loved to dress up. As soon as I dressed her, she knew she was going somewhere. She didn't just wag her tail, she wagged her whole body! She had necklaces, shirts, bandannas, jackets, vests, costumes, hats, you name it. Jack's girlfriend, Imogene, even gave her a real strand of pearls. 

Pearl on school visits

Pearl made everyone feel special. It was like she was born for the job. She was such a good dog. She was calm, never barked during appearances (although she had gas sometimes, and pooped once, lol), and was gentle with everyone. When we visited schools and the kids were seated on the floor, she would literally walk from child to child, greeting each one, then move on to the next. It was if she had been trained. I did not train her to do that. She never acted tired or fussy. 

Pearl went to VBS and got her own certificate, an appearance at the Jackson library summer program, participating in a 5K with me, and shopping for the shelter 

Pearl not only befriended strangers in audiences, but she was part of our family. She and her brothers all have their ways and personalities. When my brother died, Jason lived in Louisiana. Jack, Bee, and Pearl were physically there for me during that time. They comforted me like no other, and that's just one example. She was my well-behaved side kick and nap buddy. 

Pearl at school with me on the day before a race, at a race celebrating her rescue, Pearl kisses, Pearl with her dad, chilling at home in her Hawaiian hoodie

Eventually, one of her eyes changed. The vet said it had stopped functioning, therefore, had become a target for infection. We had it removed, but that did not slow her down one bit. In December of 2020, I could tell that she didn't feel well. I thought she was dying. I took her to the vet, expecting the worst. Fortunately, it was a few bad teeth. She had her teeth cleaned and a few bad ones pulled. In a couple of days, she was good to go. 

Shopping for the shelter, and Pet Costume Contest at the nursing home- we were Slash and Axl and we won 1st place!

About six weeks ago, Pearl developed stomach issues. She stopped eating as much. We made several trips to the vet and took several medications. She was always cooperative, although she lost a lot of weight. Last week, she started eating more, which was very encouraging to me. 

Radio appearance

Then, this weekend happened. Pearl stopped eating, but when she stopped drinking is what scared me. This was the first time she had stopped drinking. When she had the scare with her teeth, my friend Lisa prepared me. She told me that Pearl would let me know when it was time. Over the weekend, Pearl became weak and "floppy," as I described her. She wouldn't hold her head up. She also had a different look in her eye. Last night, I knew that she was dying. Our vet is a friend of mine, so I messaged her and made plans for today. I slept on the couch with Pearl, and held her. I held her a lot this morning, and she sat in my lap all the way to the vet. As much I as know I will miss her, I don't want her to suffer. 

Pearl and me in a Christmas parade

I once read an article on social media written from a dog's perspective. It talks about a human not wanting to be present as the dog is euthanized, but the dog talks about all the love it gave the human and how the human is all it has. The dog says something like "you're my whole life, please stay with me." The staff at the clinic was very sweet and sympathetic. I was with Pearl the whole time, and they gave me time with her without my having to ask. This was on my way to work, so I will pick her up on my way home. We are going to bury her at home and make a nice gravesite that is Pearl-worthy. 

What to wear?

I am sad, and I will miss her, but I am so proud of her. She represented needy animals with no voice. I have no way of knowing how many lives of humans she touched, but I saw her bring smiles to hundreds of faces. I hope that after hearing her story, that many people have chosen to adopt, not shop and to spay/neuter their pets. If Pearl had been able to speak last words, I know they would've been along the lines of how rescue pets are not flawed, they've just been let down by humans. 

Last moments with Pearl

Rest in peace, my Pearl Girl, and I hope you enjoy the sounds across the Rainbow Bridge. 

Good Friday Reflections

Since my brother died*, Fall gets me in my feels, but Spring has me that way this year. I guess it’s because I hear the doves that he was so good at imitating, and it’s the time of year that we crank up the lawn mowers and weed eaters we’ve been running since our legs were long enough for our feet to reach the pedals. Turkey season always reminds me of him, too. I love the picture of him and his lifelong friend, Ben, who co-claimed a turkey they killed together. I also think of how Jared loved to amputate turkey feet and pull that thing that makes the toes curl. What made him love this, though, was my hatred and disgust of it, lol. I remember being awakened by a dead turkey foot caressing my face one morning when we both still lived at home. If I could have him back, I would let him do that every day! As much as I miss him, I would never bring him back here from Heaven, though.

Jared, L, Ben, R

These weeks approaching Easter have had me thinking a lot about Heaven, too, and our lives as Christians. I have been angry, bitter, and a bad witness in some ways, for the last 6-8 weeks or so. Sometimes, my bad behavior makes me hesitant to share my faith in general or a Bible verse on social media, for example. While what I am about to say is no excuse, on this day (Good Friday) many years ago, Jesus took the punishment for all our sin. I love my family very much, but I can’t imagine loving strangers enough to die for their wrongdoings- especially those who were there killing Jesus that day and cheering them on. I also can’t imagine dying for the people I’ve been so mad at lately, or the people in the grocery store who get on my nerves. Just being honest.

Jared's friends, Daddy, and me at our old church on his first birthday in Heaven

 As I was reflecting on Good Friday this morning and looking at a schedule of events of that day, I started wondering what the people and beings in Heaven do on Easter weekend. I know they are always singing and worshipping, but surely there is a celebration. I was specifically wondering what Jesus, my brother, and my friend Terry are doing. This is my friend Terry’s first Easter in Heaven. Please keep his family in your prayers, as it’s their year of firsts without him. My thoughts continued to develop about Good Friday into how if Good Friday and Easter had not occurred, that I would not be at peace about where Jared, Terry, and so many other loved ones are, and about where others who are still here are going to spend eternity.

When Jesus gave His life for us on the Cross, He took the punishment for our sin and secured a place for us in Heaven. All we have to do is believe. I’ve said this before, but it’s definitely worth saying again. The night Jared died, as soon as I could function, I was like “Jared is in Heaven.” I said that to my dad, and he said “I know.” I don’t know how lost people deal with death, knowing they will not see Jesus and their loved ones again. Not only will we see Jared again, but we have a relationship with Jesus. We will see Jesus, too, and we have Him to equip us with all that we need until we get there. I look back on how big of a donkey I’ve been for the last few weeks. Jesus forgives me for my sins when I ask Him, and I’m not losing my place in Heaven. He still loves me, too. I don’t deserve any of that.

My reflections from the morning and time leading up to today are these: 1. Jesus took the punishment for my sins. I am still going to sin, but I am going to try to be more conscious of it. When faced with the choice of sin, we always have an out. Sin will never be our only choice. I am going to try to think of my sin inflicting pain on Jesus as it did on Good Friday. I am also going to remember who I represent. 2. I want people to know about my third paragraph so they will know just how important it is to accept Jesus as your Savior. Being raised in church, I have always known this, but I experienced first-hand that life can be taken in the blink of an eye. I experienced the comfort and peace that come with salvation. My brother didn’t get a second chance. If he had not been a Christian, he would be in Hell, and we would never see him again. I don’t think I would’ve emotionally survived that. If you’re reading this you have that chance.

I love this! It's just how I picture it, too!

 “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” -John 3:16

"Midnight Cry" by Gold City

 *My brother, Jared, died in a car accident at the age of 29 in October of 2014.

I Wear Red for My Grandfathers

 My second experience losing a grandparent to heart disease was less than a year after the first. It was my maternal grandfather, Donald Hicks. We called him Pa, like Opie Taylor called Andy. When I think of Pa, I think of gardening, five-dollar bills, parched peanuts, softball games, and a forked twig on a smokehouse.

My mom's dad, Bro. Donald Hicks

My mom’s parents lived in Grove Hill, about 15 minutes away, so Jared and I didn’t spend as much time there as we did our other grandmothers who lived a rock’s throw away. In hindsight, I see that my maternal grandmother, Mema (Mee-maw), and I have a lot of similarities. She was a teacher, and we always did cool things at when we were there. Most of them involved learning. She was into herbs and healthy eating, too. It seems like Pa was always working in his garden. He was retired from ALDOT, but he was also a pastor. I was a small child when he was still preaching, but I’ve heard numerous people say that he could quote more scripture than anyone they’ve ever known. In his younger years, he was an award-winning fiddler.

Mema and Pa always came to visit us on our birthdays. If it wasn’t your birthday, Pa still gave you a five-dollar bill. I always thought that was cool. He also parched the most delicious peanuts. I don’t know if I’ve had any since he died. Pa had a smokehouse in his backyard. He kept it closed with a small twig that was forked on the end. I can still picture it. After he died and my grandmother moved to an assisted living facility, my brother moved into their house. He and I looked all over for that twig, but we never found it. It would be neat to have. Pa came to most of my home softball games. He would come walking up wearing a trucker hat and carrying a lawn chair. I was always happy to see him.

One Friday afternoon of my freshman year in college, I had just come home for the weekend. We were called to the ER in Grove Hill because Pa was found slumped over in his carport. I think he had already passed when the ambulance arrived. He had suffered a massive heart attack. Pa requested a small service. We had a visitation and graveside service, where we sang Amazing Grace. Pa was a simple man. He would have liked it.

My dad's dad, Scott Clemens

I never had a chance to meet my paternal grandfather. His name was Scott Clemens. He was born in Scottsboro, AL, in 1931, but he lived most of his life in Fairhope. In school, he was the president of the 4H Club, and voted “Most Witty.” That explains a lot! Anyone who knows my dad knows that that apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and I often have irresistible urges to “pull people’s legs.”

After high school, he joined the US Navy and fought on an aircraft carrier during the Korean War. He was a member of the National Guard when he passed. He was athletic, played softball, and coached baseball for his kids. He worked as the superintendent over the natural gas department for the City of Fairhope.

He died in 1991 at the age of 59 from an aortic aneurysm. This is not considered heart disease, but vascular disease. Sometimes the two are lumped together. He smoked and drank for most of his adult life, and the AHA lists those as factors contributing to aortic aneurysms. See the link attached for more information.

Even though no one in my immediate family had the privilege of meeting him, we did get to meet my dad’s youngest brother when I was in college. His name is also Scott, and we are close to him and his wonderful family. They have been and continue to be such blessings to us. Scott is closer to my age than he is my dad’s, and we share a common love of fitness. Scott’s mother, who was married to my grandfather, identified many similarities in my dad and “the Scotts.” They obviously look alike, and she said they have the same mannerisms. My dad writes in all caps, and she said Scott did, too. Genes are strong. Having said that, since 3 of my grandparents died of heart-related conditions, I want to do all I can to keep my heart as healthy as possible. I wear red for my grandfathers, Donald (Pa) and Scott.

L-R: My uncle Scott Clemens, me, my dad

 Aortic Aneurysm Information from the American Heart Association 

I Wear Red for My Friend Terry

 With the exception of my grandmother, the most shocking loss to a heart attack is that of my friend, Terry. It is also the most recent. It is for this reason that I will not post pictures of him because I do not want to cause a grief wave for his family. 

I have known Terry and his family all my life, but it wasn't until the last five years or so that we joined the church where he served as chairman of deacons and became close. His daughter is also one of my best friends. Until my two-ish year church hiatus, I saw him at least once a week, sometimes twice. My husband, Jason, doesn't go to church, but he met Terry at a men's wild game supper once. They became friends, and we are both so thankful. Jason is very peculiar and anti-social, but he always welcomed Terry's texts and calls. We were both shocked and devastated when we learned that he had passed. 

Terry was special. He was wise and witty. The first image in this article is the end of a witty quote of his. It's appropriate, of course, but it's not "PC," either. It is, however, hilarious. He would randomly call or text to see how things were going and to wish me a good day. He became someone I trusted, confided in, and consulted for advice. He's been gone about six months or so, and I still find myself wishing I could call him and tell him something, vent to him, ask for his advice, and ask him to pray for me. He was also one in a handful of people I never wanted to disappoint. For example, if I was about to post something questionable, I would ask myself, "what would Terry think if he saw that?" That was all it took. 

During the month before he passed, his daughter-in-law and I worked an event together. He was our courier, so-to-speak, and would take event materials back and forth between us. He and I lived close by, and he worked with his son who is married to this particular lady. I would meet him on my way to work and on his way to take his grandsons to school. We met at the bank in town, and I would joke with him that the nosy folks in town were going to start rumors about us, lol. I usually don't keep texts in my phone long, but I'm so thankful I kept his longer than usual because I still have them. Some of them are our last words to speak to one another. 

My immediate family has always made sure that the last thing we say is "I love you." I've always taken it seriously, but even more so after my brother's sudden, tragic death. Terry and I didn't tell each other that, but I say this so families will understand the importance. Terry and I had no idea that would be the last time we would see each other this side of Heaven. We left with a smile and a "have a good day." 

I can't imagine how hard life is for his family without him. He was my friend, not my father, grandfather, or husband, and I know how much I miss him. Terry was an active, hardworking man. I don't know about his eating and exercise habits, but he didn't drink or smoke. Regardless, a heart attack stole him from those who love him. I wear red for my friend Terry. 

I Wear Red for My Nanny, Joan Hudson Daniels

 

My first loss to heart disease was my paternal grandmother, Joan Hudson Daniels. My brother and I called her “Nanny.” She was a single parent to her only child, which is my dad. She loved the three of us more than anything. During the time I knew her, she worked as a seamstress. She lived across the road from us with her mother. We called her, Gaugy. Since we lived so close, we spent a lot of time with them. We stayed there during the summers and after school, and whenever we wanted to go visit and spend the night.

Some of the things I remember most about my childhood there are watching cartoons, shelling peas, playing dominos, eating the most delicious caramel cake (and other kinds) ever baked, riding bikes, playing with Hot Wheels and paper dolls, going to cemeteries, watching Saved By the Bell, The Brady Bunch, and CMT, going in for a huge lunch spread when Scotch’s whistle blew and Daddy came home, and much more. It was a wonderful life, and the only thing I would do differently is take Nanny and Gaugy to the Fountain of Youth.

During my 5^th grade year, Gaugy got cancer and moved to Grove Hill to live with my great aunt. She died there a few months later right after Christmas. By this time, Nanny had bought a house two doors down from us in the other direction. Although we missed Gaugy very much, Jared and I had fun exploring this new house and yard. Nanny also got a Sheltie dog named Daisy. She was a sweet dog. By this time, we were getting older and didn’t play as much, but we still spent a lot of time at Nanny’s. She cooked a delicious lunch every Sunday. She loved all holidays.

Nanny made the most beautiful Easter eggs I have ever seen. They had the deepest colors. I wish I had learned how she did it. We always had egg hunts. She bought Jared and me fancy wooden Easter baskets when we were kids. Mine has a rabbit and his has a duck. I still have them, and they are all the more special now that he is in Heaven with her.

Christmas was her time to shine, though. Nanny and Gaugy were excellent cooks. Nanny made the best fudge, divinity, and chocolate pie I have ever eaten. She had a million lights on her medium-sized Christmas tree. We celebrated Christmas Eve at her house every year after Gaugy died, and she spoiled us all. During the holidays of 1999, she had our gifts wrapped and placed under the tree. Her Christmas goodies, including the fudge and divinity, which lived up to its name, were in the kitchen.

December 18^th was a Saturday that year. I spent most of the day at a friend’s house a few miles away. I was a senior in high school. I got home, and only my mom was there, which was unusual. She said that my dad and Jared had taken Nanny to the hospital because they thought she was having a heart attack. I understood the seriousness of the matter, but it never occurred to me that we might be coming home without her. I got to the hospital and Daddy and Jared were there. I don’t remember all the details, but I caught a glimpse of her by mistake. She looked to be sleeping, but was purple. Daddy said that she was gone. When they arrived, the staff got her situated, and he and Jared were going to complete the paperwork. She gasped and they saw her take her last breath. I think he said they worked on her for an hour.

I drove my car to the hospital, but I rode home in Nanny’s car with Jared and Daddy. Her purse was there. Nanny had a lot of good friends. We had cell phones at this time, but they were not used as they are now. I got to her house and called her best friends to tell them. I remember not believing what I was saying. We went back to my house, and people were there for days. I would pick up the phone to call her and catch myself almost walking to her house. She was a huge part of our lives, and she was gone in an instant.

She died exactly one week before Christmas. On Christmas Eve, we went to her house as usual. It was very sad. We opened our gifts from her and ate the goodies she had prepared. The next morning, her sister made us a breakfast dish. Her other sister gave us a poem called “My First Christmas In Heaven.” Those are the main things I remember about that Christmas.

 I know it was especially hard on my dad, but he handled it like a champ. The second semester of senior year flies by. Mine did, and it kept me busy, but it was sad that she wasn’t there for softball, prom, and graduation. For my softball tournaments, she would fry chicken and make other really good food for us to take. Looking back, I wish I had appreciated that more.

She was “extra,” and people tell me that I am the same way. If she were still here, I know that she would be my best friend. She would be my #1 supporter in my extra curriculars. If I ever needed someone to do something with, I know it would be her. She would love my husband, Jason, and I know they would embarrass me by laughing at inappropriate things and thinking it was funny that I was embarrassed, lol.

Nanny was very active and not overweight, but she didn’t exercise or eat right. She also smoked a lot and used ladles of grease to season her food. It was sooo good, though. I was a kid during the time I knew her, so I really don’t know if she went to the doctor regularly and kept a check on her numbers. I do know, however, that her diet, smoking, and lack of exercise contributed to her heart attack.

Nanny when she danced competitively 

I don’t have children or grandchildren like she did, but I have family, friends, animals, and former students that I love very much. There are things I want to do and people and animals I want to help before I am gone. God may have plans for a truck to hit me tomorrow, but at least I will have a healthy heart, and I will have done all I can to have taken care of my body so I can use it for myself and for others.  

Times were different when my grandmother was coming up. More people smoked and less was known about the dangers of it. More people cooked with grease, too. If she had it to do over again, I am confident that she would choose to be heart healthy, not for herself, but for us. Since she is not here to do it, I am doing it for her. I wear red for my Nanny, Joan Hudson Daniels 9/15/35-12/18/99

How Heart Disease Stole My Loved Ones and Changed My Life

 If one of your parents had to have heart disease, which would it be? What a horrible question! When you look at statistics from the American Heart Association, though, 48% of American adults have cardiovascular disease. It is the number one cause of death in the US, and stroke takes fifth place. While I am still fortunate enough to have both parents, I can’t say the same about my grandparents. Before the end of my first semester in college, three of my grandparents had succumbed to heart attacks. When I saw this family pattern and learned ways to “get heart healthy,” it was a no-brainer for me.

Although I have always been an athlete, staying fit was no longer something to do for fun, it was necessary for survival. I took a PE class every semester in college (which also helped my GPA, lol), and I also took advantage of the free exercise classes at the student rec center. Before graduating from college, I met my now-husband, who is a US Marine and former competitive body builder. We started running and training together, and I have been hooked ever since. He also started me on the path of healthy eating, and I self-taught (via reading) from there. I cannot imagine life out of shape or out of the gym.

Every February, the American Heart Association uses the month to raise funds and awareness for “Heart Month.” It is a special cause to me because I want to tell people how heart disease stole my grandparents from my family, and how one can possibly prolong their lives by “getting heart healthy.” Throughout the month, I will blog about each of my grandparents and a special friend who fell victim to this number one killer. 

Reference Article above ^^^

American Heart Association

Wear Red Day