LEAP for Joy!!!

Happy Leap Day!

I just watched as my fundraising campaign crossed the $1,000 mark, which is the goal I set. I'm so thankful for everyone who has donated so far, and everyone else who still might.

I'm not surprised that we made it to the goal - as Tim touched every single life he touched. I remember this past July, when I was helping my mom out with various things, I met and unfortunately had to break the news of Tim's passing to his tax preparer, and she began to cry. Come to think of it, I don't think there is anyone in Tim's life who wasn't brought to their knees by word of his illness and passing.

I was surprised that we got here so quickly. I was shocked to see that instead of a bunch of $5, $10, and $20 donations, that I saw several people donating $50 or more. People really loved Tim. Everyone I have spoken to has confirmed that they think the McKenzie River Trust is a great representation of Tim's love and what he stood for, and I hope that we can give even more to support their conservation of the rivers.

I want to leave you today with a fun story relating to a leap, and another one of my cherished memories of Tim.

For those of you have have never moved furniture on a semi, you might not know the value of ramps. Whether loading or unloading, we always have to slide ramps up to one of the doors on the trailer, so that we can carry things onto and off of the truck. Simple enough, right? Well, not quite. First off all, connecting the two sides of the ramps can be a little frustrating... but the real problem is lining up the truck doors to the ramps, so that that the path between the house and truck are as clear as possible. In order to get the right alignment, we lay the ramps down approximately where we want them to line up, and then Tim backs up the truck, while watching us in his side mirror, and we tell him to keep going or to stop when the door gets to the right place.

Me in the Truck

Sorry for the digression and impromptu lesson in ramps, but you really have to understand the process to understand the story. I'll always remember one day In Georgia, we were preparing to unload the truck. We lined up the ramps and Tim hopped in the truck to back it up. In order for him to see me in his mirror, I placed myself at the far end of the ramps, waving at him to continue backing up. I waved and waved (you all know the motion you make when you're trying to help someone parallel park), looking from the truck door, to Timmy in the mirror, and back.

Next thing I know, I'm looking over the top of the truck. It's over 13 feet tall, and I had a line of sight clear over the top. In case you were curious, I am not superman, and I cannot leap tall buildings in a single bound. How then, did I leap higher than a semi? And how did it happen without me wanting it to happen?

Well, I was focused on the door, and on Tim. He was focused on me. Neither of us was focused on the truck's rear wheels, which ran over the near end of the ramps, catapulting me into the air unexpectedly.

As Timmy flew out of the truck to make sure I was okay, he told me that, suddenly, he could only see my shoes where my face had been. We both started laughing, and (sensing that I wasn't hurt), he asked me the question that was always on the forefront of his mind: "So... are we ready to start working?"