Peanut Butter Fudge and Tradition

We would fight to scrape the pan and eat the melt-in-your-mouth fudge bits left after mom was done.  After it cooled, the fudge squares were dumped over a huge bowl of popcorn which four small children devoured during the annual playing of “The Wizard of Oz,” on television in the days before VCRs or streaming video.

As an adult, who moved back home against all odds, my life is now more about reliving the traditions created for my siblings and I by my mother.

This winter, I spent countless hours with Ben trying to remember the names of the birds which swarmed our feeders.  With my mother’s cancer treatment wrecking her body this summer, I took the time to sit with her and relearn to knit.  Time normally spent writing or engrossed in social media, I spent remembering why small things are important.

I helped plant a garden, canned pickles, and visited 93 year old Grandma Millie and her live-in boyfriend Chuck.  I worked on my quilt, finished knitting a stocking cap and a scarf.  I baked bread.  I relearned how to bobber fish, caught my first salmon down rigger fishing, and cut my first hole to ice fish.  I watched Meteor Showers with Ben while floating on Lake Michigan.

I went skydiving, read books, and simply sat.  Sat and enjoyed sunsets.  Sat and enjoyed the Scottville Clown Band.  Learned to play a C Major scale on my guitar.  I cleaned out closets, decorated our first Christmas tree, learned to play Marbles, and enjoyed hundreds of cups of coffee.

As I look forward to the imminent spring frog symphony, and celebrate the first song of the Red Winged Black Bird, I know that a summer of insanity awaits.  I also know that before summer comes the first green shoots of flowers my mom would call me outside to witness.

Mom still calls me to announce the first Robin sighting of Spring.  It never fails.  She is always the first to see one.

As I cut the peanut butter fudge into little squares and share the first piece with Ben, I acknowledge that life is about the small, ever important moments in which you take the time to appreciate the song of a bird, the sweetness of a homemade treat, or the beauty of a sunset.


Many months ago, my blog came into question. It didn’t come into question because of something I wrote, or someone I offended. It was, however, under scrutiny by the powers-that-be.

That process, quite frankly, took the wind out of my writing sails. From day one, my writing centered around how much I loved my job, where I worked and the people I work with. It was difficult feeling as thought I needed to defend myself, my writing, and in some ways, who I am.

I am thrilled that after the recent publication of the social media policy, I can now say that I work for Aero Med in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I have, as you will notice, added a disclaimer the the side bar as was directed. I will continue to talk about how much I love my niche profession of Flight Nursing, how much I enjoy where I work, and those I work with.

Please take note that I DO NOT speak for the US Army (which recently also changed its stance on social media), the hospital, or Aero Med.

My blog is my opinion only.

The stories I tell are either written with permission or changed to be HIPAA compliant. Everyone likes a good story, but I am aware of how visible my patients are both in the news and in the community. They will never have to worry that I am doing or saying what I shouldn’t.

News organizations do not contact me for a scoop. I will simply direct you to the hospital communications department and give you the phone number you already have memorized.

Everyone else, call or email away. I would LOVE to talk to you about flight medicine! (side note: if you have emailed me, I am working on getting back to you)

Lastly, I am still the person dubbed crzegrl, and no, I am not turning in my hypothalamus. *pointed look at the boys* I will continue to post about my life in a fairly uncensored format. I drink beer, cuss on occasion, and do everything humanly possible to wring every bit of love, laughter, and passion out of this life. My blog is not a representation of Emily J. McGee as a professional entity, it is me Emily and my life as I live it.

So as I have the next four days away from the insanity, I have a lot of catching up to do. I’ve missed you all!