For real?

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day.

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you.


I've been pondering being "real" the past few days. It all started with a bumper sticker I saw that said, "Real men love Jesus". I'm guessing that the driver of the patchwork-looking Chevy Cavalier that it was pasted on meant Jesus, the son of God, and not some random transient worker from south of the border. What does it mean to be real? Sure, I looked in the dictionary and I found various definitions of the word. I think my favorite is "not imaginary: existing as fact, rather than as a product of dreams or the imagination". As I approach another birthday I am tempted to judge my life in terms of the number of years or what I've accomplished as "real". The years seem long and the list seems extremely short until I remember three certain people who are very real. Wendy, Katie, Maggie. These girls, women now, defy the above meaning of real in my estimation. True, they are not imaginary and they exist as fact; however, they ARE a product of dreams and imagination. Without the dreams and hopes and wishes of each of them life would be very different for all of us. Wendy had a dream--college to get that all-important degree to teach. Katie had a dream--getting into law school. Maggie has a dream--a degree in speech therapy to be able to work with children. That's not to say that they don't have more hopes and dreams. It just means that with the love and support of each other they have accomplished some of the dreams they have had. Another year older? Nah...another year more real!

~Taaaa daaaa~

So, I finally did it. I created a blog. It looks a bit bland right now, but over time I will try to spruce the place up a bit. I'll hang some pictures on the walls and toss a few comfy pillows with inspiring phrases on them here and there. Honest, I will. Just don't ask me when. (I have several projects in my basement that I'm sure I started shortly after the first child came along and they're not finished "yet".) Anyway, I'm here...I've started. Can you believe it?


Now, on to the name of my blog. "Brelly & Tilly Forever", you ask? My children have long been speculating as to what the future grandchildren will call me since I really don't ever picture being called "Grandma" or any cutesy derivative of the name. I, therefore, came up with "Tilly"; I want to be called "Tilly". Why? Let me explain. When the spin-off of "Grey's Anatomy" called "Private Practice" debuted there were a few scenes of Kate Walsh's character in an elevator talking to herself and a female voice answers her musings. Later in the show it's revealed that the voice is actually Tilly; Tilly is the security guard at the wellness clinic where Addison has come to work. Tilly claims she gets her kicks by staring at people through the security camera and speaking to them in the elevators leaving them wondering who they are talking to. Perfect! I shall be called Tilly by my grandchildren!


Where did I get Brelly? Well, that's a story, too. While my dear SIL was deployed Wendy and I found comfort and support on a Marine family support board. Tilly made herself known to the folks on the board with some of her...antics. To keep confusion to a minimum one of the nice ladies on the board came up with the combination of my name and Tilly's name making us Brelly. So, all 3 of us are now known collectively as Brelly.


So here we are. Brenda, Tilly, & Brelly. Brelly & Tilly forever! You never know what we may say or do!

*Author's note: I, Brenda, shall try to keep everyone in line.