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Aunt Rhonda

If you were privileged enough to know my Aunt Rhonda, you may have heard these words when she greeted you, especially at a family gathering, "Come here so I can suck your face!". Now, that may be entirely too straightforward while starting off a tribute to my dear aunt; but that was Rhonda, straightforward, with just the right amount of love and comic relief mixed together so perfectly, to make even the grumpiest of men, or a crying toddler crack a smile. Her presence made a family gathering that would otherwise be considered just ordinary, extremely special, because Aunt Rhonda was in the room. Half way through my sixth grade year Rhonda, and my cousin Justina moved just down the road from us on our family farm. Although this was a trying time in the Becker's life with the loss of my grandmother and a complete life change for our families, the selfish part of me is so grateful for that move and for all the memories acquired because of it. There was no better way to grow
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A Tribute To Grandpa Breen

Grandpa said right before this photo was taken, "Alright, my first selfie!" Winter 2016 Grandpa's hands. I thank God for them. Grandpa's hands have carefully carved out thousands of intricate, yet sturdy pieces of wood which are placed carefully around each of my family members' households. Some of us sit inside walls that he built, others can look at those walls and see beautiful frames he's carved out from old barn wood, which carefully hold our families legacy inside the four corners surrounding that moment in time. Still others, will hold a carved out wooden toy, sit at a desk, open wooden drawers, place items on his shelves, and walk across wooden floors that grandpa's hands have wisely molded together to create for us a home. To sit and reflect on each masterpiece he's created leaves a grieving family member in grateful awe at his talent. After 32 years of life, I still have in my possession the dresser he built when I was a baby. This dresser ha

Uganda - Part 2 "Why Are You Here?"

About half way into our trip, Father Joseph presented to us the question, "Why are you here?" I thought a lot about that question in the days that followed, and each day seemed to present a slightly different answer. We discussed in detail our final conclusions of the trip on our last night together over drinks, and really delved into the question, "why did God choose the nine of us to come to Africa?" Each student had a well thought out response, admitting that the trip brought them outside of their comfort zones and taught them how to love others on a whole new level. Until that question was posed I had yet to really consider why I was chosen as the "chaperone" of the trip. I inquired back in October about any trips in need of a chaperone. I stated eagerly that I would be more than happy to go along, as I had no family or responsibilities tying me to Ave other than work; and most of all, because I love traveling and serving people, even though I had neve

Uganda - Part One "The Beginning Days"

Walking into my 2 bedroom apartment in Naples, Florida after returning home from Uganda, feelings of sadness, gratefulness, relief, and nostalgia all swirled together in my mind. My dog Panda, jumping up and down to greet me was a wonderful feeling, one I had been waiting for all day, but as she eagerly jumped up to lick my face I instantly remembered hundreds of orphans in Masaka, swarming our van and greeting us with smiles and laughter, and I longed for those children even more than the whimpering gladness of my five year old faithful friend. The first thing I noticed upon walking inside my apartment Saturday afternoon was that the temperature seemed freezing cold. I went to the thermostat to check, and it was set at 78 degrees Fahrenheit, just how I left it. I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in a mirror for the first time in two weeks; yikes. Greasy hair and blemishes stared back at me. There in my bathroom was a toilet that flushed and a shower head with hot water waitin

Airports 12 Megan 0 (throwback edition)

July 13th, 2011 This is your captain speaking. Welcome to my blog and thanks for choosing MegBeck. Make sure your seat belts are securely fastened and follow along as I take you from sentence to sentence of my most overwhelming day at an airport, or several airports rather. You shall arrive at your destination in about eight minutes, give or take turbulence; we’ll call it reading skills. For safety purposes please keep your seat-backs and tray tables locked and in the upright position. In case of emergency, I do not provide oxygen masks, obviously.   Ready? Now, let’s embark on a journey. For the sake of time, (I’m sure you’re all very busy people) let’s skip my three and a half hour drive to the airport, because that just involves heavy eyes, a cup of coffee and a lot of car singing. So, there I was at Omaha’s, Eppley Airfield, and honestly, I should have known the moment security had to take my bag aside to remove my illegal, six-ounce, deadly bottle of fac