My View of the Wedding

May 16...

Let me back track to May 15, rehearsal day. After getting acclimated with the site, a beautiful vineyard and a beautiful sunny day, I felt comfortable with my out-of-the-way spot with the keyboard and my music partner for the wedding, Mike Gregory. I had prayed for sunshine, but maybe not THIS much sunshine? Anyway, as practice began Vivi laid like her usual sweet self right beside the keyboard. Suddenly I heard her crunching something that sounded like something very hard to crunch. Still, before I could reach down and grab it out of her mouth, it disappeared and rehearsal continued. All went well until the bride started her little practice walk down the aisle. Suddenly Vivi saw her and bolted like a hound dog going after a coon, wearing harness and leash and totally ignoring our own well-rehearsed command “Vivi come!” and crashing right into the middle of the wedding party. The bride is one of her favorite people.

May 16, 6 AM.  Vivi is doing the fox trot on my bed … then, whatever she swallowed yesterday bounces right onto the blanket.  Could have been worse, could have been me. We’re up now and I’m getting ready to get my hair did with Christi, the mother of the bride.  We laugh and talk about the wedding day. 

Today I made arrangements for my friend, Teresa,  to drop by before leaving for Angier, NC, in order to assure me the dress looks fine and I have no broccoli or something on my teeth. Then Mike and his lovely Lisa wife pick me up and we’re off. About twenty miles we ride, talking and laughing, then it’s almost time. This time I take Vivi to see Brittany BEFORE the wedding begins so she won’t be surprised. Brittany let’s me feel the dress, touching the bodice, the skirt, the train and veil. My mind tears up but my lips smile. Then I take my comfortable place behind the keyboard. Today I put Vivi’s leash around the leg of the bench I am sitting on. If she bolts today, the bench, the keyboard, the microphone and me will go with her. I hear the covered wagon letting people off who ride from the reception room to the outdoor spot in front of a lake which Brittany has chosen for her wedding. There’s a faint smell of grapes in the air and a slight breeze. 

It’s 5:30 PM and the sun is thinking about setting in a few hours as it blazes a trail around the lake. I hear the sound of horses’ hoofs and the slight rattling of carriage wheels. Even though I see nothing, I know Brittany is in a white carriage being pulled by white horses around part of the perimeter of the lake. The sun is so hot but my arms fill up with little spirit bumps as a picture forms in my mind of exactly what a beautiful scene it makes. Then it’s time for her wedding entrance. “Oh dear God!” and that’s a prayer, not an expletive. The keyboard sound disappears. For about four seconds the venue is quiet as Barry, the D.J. realizes I changed settings  and it killed the sound. Now, sound restored, Brittany walks down the short distance before I want to stop playing. I stop anyway. After her dad sits down Mike and I sing the song I wrote for her wedding day, perfectly until the very last note which gets lost in my heart and won’t come back like the sound of the keyboard did. I did hit it enough to get the word out and say a silent thank you prayer that Mike carried the note to its full count. 

Then, as the service progresses, I am lost in my flashbacks:

Brittany and I sit at Ruby Tuesdays over two years ago. She is planning her wedding, spring, summer, winter, or fall. She is so excited. The waiter comes over and congratulates her, only to learn she isn’t even engaged yet, only dreaming.

Back to earth. The service is over. Brittany and Zac get into the white carriage as eyes are glued on the bride and groom, now husband and wife. I hear the horses hoofs. 

After the wedding party has exited the venue I learn that my former husband, Jim, was sitting on the front row with his own guide dog, Chloe. When the horses came around close to the seats on that side, Chloe bolts just like Vivi did yesterday, only her leash was wrapped around Jim’s wrist at least three times. Jim leaves his chair as if it were a slip&slide and lands, in his new suit, in the dirt. Where are the cameras? He didn’t get hurt, so it’s okay if you want to laugh. He laughs about it now.

I ride the covered wagon with the others back to the reception area. The room is beautiful inside, but the colored lights have a great time turning my light vision into a circus. It’s all good as I enjoy a glass of wine made at the vineyard, enjoy the announcement by the DJ as the bridal party enters, hear a strong and purposeful blessing on the wedding and the future given by my son, Kevin, have a meal fit for a king, listen to toasts made by Taylor, the bride’s sister, and Ken, Zac’s father.

Let the dancing begin! Vivi lies quietly like a little angel under the table. I wait for an old tune, something maybe like the “Twist.” It never happens. 

As the evening continues my heart is overflowing as I watch Brittany, knowing that she had no idea of the joy she would feel this night as she planned her wedding over two years ago in Ruby Tuesdays. Her dream has come true. After the cutting of the cake, the throwing of the bridal bouquet, the "put in a dollar to dance with the bride" session, a shower of bubbles usher her and Zac out the door at 10 PM as they get into the limousine to begin their future together.

The year of practicing wedding music is over. Time to see what happens next in my life, hoping for even more beautiful visions.

WEDDING REHEARSAL

2:30 PM May 15,

When I was young we used to play the game of “Farmer in the dell.”  Anyone remember? Let’s see, the farmer takes a wife, the wife takes a child, the child takes a nurse, the nurse takes a dog, the dog takes a cat, the cat takes the rat and the rat takes the cheese? And the cheese is the one that stands alone.  Hi-ho the Dario, I’m the cheese. No one to watch me standing in front of a mirror and saying:  “That dress really looks nice,” “That color looks good on you;” “that makes you look so young,” or any of those nonsensical things that most times people are just being nice anyway. Is this a pity party? You betcha. Let’s see now:  It’s rehearsal day and evening dinner. You are hungry but you don’t eat because it will mess with your voice when you sing.  You don’t dare drink or you will have to go to the bathroom you don’t know where is in a strange place, and your ride must be late or I wouldn’t be writing this blog. You guessed it, I must be the grandmother of the bride. Well, I prayed and asked God to keep me humble, but maybe not THIS humble.     

2:35 May 15,

Ride is here, knocking at the door and talking as he enters saying:  “That dress really looks nice,” “That color looks good on you;” “that makes you look young.” I believe him.

5:25 PM:  We start rehearsal. I play the violin like nobody is listening, and hope they aren’t.

5:40 PM:  Bride starts her practice walk down the aisle. I am playing the keyboard. Suddenly my guidedog, Vivi, sees Brittany, who he adores and bolts all the way across the yard right into the middle of the wedding party!      

Stay tuned; May 16, is on the way.

 

 

Excerpts from book

Sorry to anyone who actually has missed my writing a blog for the last several months; well, I have missed doing it anyway. Life has been so busy, but I have blogs stored inside my brain waiting for the next opportunity to put them into words. In the meantime, here are a few very scant excerpts from my book which will hopefully create some curiosity, perhaps enough to see a few more books leave the shelves of Quail Ridge Books in Raleigh, Park Road Books in Charlotte, Lulu.com, Amazon, iBooks, Barnesandnoble.com. For those who would like an audio copy of “Changing Places,”  please message me on Facebook or post your name on the blog so I can get in touch with you.

At school we lived in dormitories like boarding schools. These are just a few little anecdotes from teenage life in Cooke Cottage, which today would be categorized as middle school housing . These can be found in the pages of my book “Changing Places”.

Then there was the evening that Carolyn, Sherry, Laverne and I decided to have a potato chip race. We all bought a 25 cent bag of chips. In the 1950s a bag of chips for a quarter was probably as big as a giant bag of chips are today. We were each going to eat an entire bag of chips and if anyone got sick we would all three call them a chicken for the entire weekend. I was certain I could eat the entire bag and then some, and proceeded to do just that. It was just before supper and Carolyn was in the bathroom throwing up. I ran into the bathroom, danced around and made chicken noises as she threw up.     

“Myra, stop it,” Sherry said. “We really can’t make fun of her when she really is sick.” 

I stopped making the chicken noises, but somewhere in my mind I felt gratified that even Carolyn could throw up just like everybody else.  

…

I was running after a man who had stolen my eye, and I was carrying his arm in my hands. We had traded my eye for his arm. I was shouting to him that he had taken the wrong eye and now I could not see. As I chased him I ran into an iron bench which immediately caused me to scream.

…

One Sunday in December Miss Davis had taken me to hear “The Messiah” at Duke University Chapel. When I came back Ms. Eubanks and several girls were listening to the top ten tunes in Ms. Eubanks’ room. Now Ms. Eubanks began to sing in a shrill high falsetto voice, imitating opera and doing a little pirouette around the room. 

“Did you like that highbrow stuff?” She asked.

“I didn’t think I would,” I answered, “but the truth is it was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.” 

“My goodness, you are finally growing up,” she said as she squeezed my shoulder and kissed the top of my head.   

…

Two blind mice; two blind mice;

No ButterFingers, NO ButterFingers!

We can’t get to the Knickel Knack Store,

But if we could  unlock the door

We wouldn’t have to starve anymore,

ButterFingers, ButterFingers!

…

I saw the car, big and gray and fast! At first I screamed because I wanted the car to stop and because I knew it wouldn’t, and then I screamed because I was high in the air, higher than the car, heading down to the pavement. Janice was on my other side, but she didn’t scream, and she couldn’t even see what was happening.

Evidently I screamed loud enough to disrupt the church service and lots of onlookers came out to see the two little blind girls lying in the street as the ambulance pulled up.

 

 

It's Finally Here!

If you all are getting a little tired of me talking about this book, well, it is finally here! After years of dreaming, rough drafts, starting over, ditching the whole idea, beginning again one more time, making it fiction, finally realizing it should be real, here we go.

FROM THE BOOK JACKET:

In 1950, Myra Yarborough, age six, finds herself transported from rural North Carolina to the NC State School for the Blind in the state’s capitol of Raleigh. The family she loves seem far away as there are no phones in her home and a six week long stretch between visits. As America is changing, the school for the blind has an archaic feel and the housemothers seem to have stepped right out of one of Grimm’s fairy tales. Follow the challenges of growing up in an environment that seems resistant to change. Many people and friends contribute to Myra’s search for balance between a blind and sighted existence, between smiles and tears, and between opinions and reality. As you follow Myra’s growing years, you will get a glimpse of being blind through this perspective, and come away with a new understanding of blindness in the 1950s, as well as what it is like today.

To say putting the book out there does not make me a little nervous would be an understatement. Yet, it is with tremendous excitement I present this book, hoping you will enjoy it and will take away something useful to add to your own walk through life.

It is my hope and plan to begin marketing through local book stores, however, until I am able to accomplish this, please check out the on-line ordering procedure below for a hard copy or an E book. I am hoping this may be something worth your sharing with friends who may need a little smiling, or even a little tears. Perhaps it will help to bridge a gap between the blind and sighted communities while it brings encouragement and hope along the way.

Thank you so much for sharing my blogs and facebook posts as I have been working on this project. I will be posting from time to time what is happening with the book, as well as continuing my blogs which I hope help show the day-to-day activities and experiences we all go through together.

Lulu.com is the self-publishing website that I used to create my book. The book is now available as an ebook and a paperback book through Lulu.com. Please click the link below to purchase a copy!

Paperback: 
http://www.lulu.com/shop/myra-yarborough-debruhl/changing-places/paperback/product-22046891.html

Ebook:
http://www.lulu.com/shop/myra-yarborough-debruhl/changing-places/ebook/product-22046852.html

In the near future, my book will also be available through other retail distributors such as amazon.com, as well as Barns and Noble. I will keep you updated when this happens!

Thank you for your support!!

Special Program

I remember when I first thought of applying for a guide dog. Proudly, I walked away with a Golden Retriever named Holly. She was three years old and was donated to the school because her family was breaking up. I walked away with a real prize from their marriage, yet never really sat down and thought about her life before she was my dog.

Holly and Mego

As Mego came into my life, I began to realize just a little of how difficult it must be to part with a puppy you have loved for at least a year. Could I do this? Give up a puppy I had loved and taught all the things young dogs need to know? During Mego’s life I met a lady who really enlightened me of the selfless gift from someone who puts in their time and their hearts into the dog that becomes the guide dog that walks a person through the paths of life.

Mego as a puppy

Mego with his puppy raiser

Vivi is my third guide dog gift. Now I am more sensitive than ever concerning those puppy raisers who help these wonderful animals become the loving guide they were created to be. I missed Vivi’s third birthday in getting out this blog, but here are my thoughts as I look at the entire process that took place even before Vivi was born.

Vivi in training 

Vivi with her puppy raiser  

                                   

Puppy Raiser

I heard about this program where I could get a puppy

I could take him home and keep him just as though he would be mine;

Give him all my love and teach him everything he'd need

To grow up to be a guide dog for the blind.

A very special program, so I reached out my hand;

And I held this little puppy--and I loved him just like mine!

Now I'm searching deep inside me to find the strength that I need

To let him be a guide dog for the blind.

Did I do it good enough?

Teach you all the right stuff;

Please don’t look back or I might cry,

You must go with your trainer there

Do you know how much I care

I didn't know it would be so hard to say good-bye.

Blindness

I heard about this program where I could get a guide dog

To take me all those places where I cannot go alone;

Brand new taste of freedom! Almost as good as seeing.

Now my dog and me?--We'll make it on our own.

A very special program, so I reached out my hand

I'm holding to the harness of the one I'm so proud of!

Now I'm searching deep inside me to find the words that I need

To say thank you for such a special gift of love!

A gift that keeps on giving,

A special way of living,

A heart that is so willing to be a guide;

Helping me to see

How it was meant to be.

Two hearts that walk together, side by side.

A very special program, Two people reach out their hands,

Intangible touch of love of a unique kind.

I thank you beyond measure, your gift truly a treasure,

As you see this way of giving to the blind.

Holly, Mego, and Vivi

ABOUT THE BOOK

In case anyone may be wondering whatever happened to me or the book I have been talking about for quite some time … here’s the update. In about two weeks it will be ready! I know you aren’t as excited as I am about all this, but after learning the stages and work it takes to get to this point it is a little like a daydream coming true. Once it is out there I will send you an update as how to get a copy. IN the meantime, here’s just a little teaser, just in hopes you will remember and want to join me in this endeavor as life still is going on, in and after the book. Thanks to all who have encouraged me.

Now, from the book jacket:

In 1950, Myra Yarborough, age six, finds herself transported from rural North Carolina to the NC State School for the Blind in the state’s capitol of Raleigh. The family she loves seem far away as there are no phones in her home and a six week long stretch between visits. As America is changing, the school for the blind has an archaic feel and the housemothers seem to have stepped right out of one of Grimm’s fairy tales. Follow the challenges of growing up in an environment that seems resistant to change. Many people and friends contribute to Myra’s search for balance between a blind and sighted existence, between smiles and tears, and between opinions and reality. As you follow Myra’s growing years, you will get a glimpse of being blind through this perspective, and come away with a new understanding of blindness in the 1950s, as well as what it is like today.

Still more Blind Things

Since it is a rainy and dreary appearing day I thought I’d try to help someone smile by reliving a few interesting things that happened in my life this past December. I will not mention the time Vivi and I stood in a department for fifteen minutes waiting for a lady who said she would be “right back,” or the other helper who told me that scarves were “right over there,” or even the clerk who asked me if I was sure I knew what I was buying. We won’t mention the server at Chic Filet who told me to go find a table and she would bring me my order of grilled chicken nuggets and fruit cup. Just suffice it to say she had disappeared from the table Vivi found for us  before I could let her know I did not order fried nuggets and fries. All these things did really happen, and I smile about them as I think of them now; hope you will smile too.

… December

This night I am wrapping gifts. I find a big bag perfect for one of the gifts. The bag seems to appear in my closet from nowhere. I am now wondering if I have put that gift in a Victoria Secrets Bag, and whether it is a tensile Christmas scene or skimpy dressed little model under my tree.

…

Always I put Braille on my to and from Christmas gifts. No one gets to pick up their gift and shake it unless they crawl under the tree and bring it out for me to read. This year I put two Brailed labeled gifts in one family’s bag, not realizing the person ignored the second Braille name and kept both gifts.

…

I was a little disappointed when I brought home two very light pink pillowcases, until the wash when I fixed the problem by not paying attention and added in a red shirt.

…

In that same wash I put in my black jeans which fit tight. I thought they were my blue ones which fit just right. Oops!  Well, at least I surely won’t have to iron them.

…

I asked the waitress for more water. She sat it down in a new glass on the table. Not realizing that she had already put a new straw in the fresh water, I took the straw from my other glass. When I touched the glass to drink I realized there were two straws. The next time I raised my glass to drink, I thought it was cool that I did not have to touch the top of the glass with my finger in order to find where my straw was; surely my mouth would hit one of them. You guessed it, I missed both straws and my second glass of water flowed down my shirt. There was more ice than water.

…

Vivi and I had walked flawlessly from the mall entrance to the Apple store. Vivi had surprised me by finding the store by herself as we had only been there twice together, the last time six months earlier. Relying on her confident stride leaving the store, we increased our speed and whizzed right past a lady who, if driving, would have been too far into my lane, not looking at all where she was going. Suddenly she realized something white brushed her leg. Her voice was as loud as a siren as she leaned toward me and screamed close to my face. Vivi didn’t miss a beat but kept on wagging her tail as she charged on toward the door. My tongue hurt after biting it to keep from saying something mean to the woman. Is this how drivers feel?

  …

Pepper? … in my pop corn?

…