Thinking of you, son. You live in my memories.
I hang on to mementos and childhood memories of jokes, smiles and laughter.
I am grateful for silly boy tactics, bouquets of wilted weeds, and a boy’s imagination.
I am grateful for the precious boy’s face I looked into and the hands I held.
I am grateful for the many “I lub you, Mommy!” and “I’m hungry!” I heard throughout his childhood. Continue reading
Sometimes it hits me. The grief, the still foreign concept. I lost a child. He was 27 years old when he died in September of 2011, but he was still my child. They say the loss of a child by far is the heaviest of losses a soul can bear. I agree.
I found another thing they say to be true. They, being the experts on grief and loss. The second year of loss is the worst. I agree. The reality pools around one’s feet. The permanency of this kind of loss becomes a stagnant puddle one must wade through.
“Hey! Where’s my boots?”
When I was a new mom, my friend Karen (same Karen from Giggles and Grins at the Zoo) bought me a mug for my first Mother’s Day. The mug was white, illustrated with a stick figure mom and the caption “Bestest Mommy Ever” printed in colorful letters. It was made to look like a preschool child wrote it with crayons; some of the letters were backwards. I cherished that mug. Unfortunately, it broke years ago.
|This is what OLDER people do during the day with their spare time!
Repurpose Old Barrels Into a Drum Set Continue reading
The biblical story of Mary and Martha is one I can personally relate to. For those not familiar with the story in Luke 10:38, I will briefly fill you in. The sisters Mary and Martha, are the same whose brother Lazarus was called out of the tomb by Jesus after he had been dead for four days. John 11:1-44.
“Remove the stone covering the tomb.” Jesus ordered. I can just hear the monumental intake of breath as the many mourners gasped at the thought of the dead man in the tomb, in the heat of the Israeli climate. “ He’s been there four days, there will be a stench,” Martha told Jesus. Continue reading
God’s Floral Bouquet
Many years ago I found myself in a very dismal place in my life. After an extremely painful childhood and troubled teens, I was weary of searching for love in wrong places. I thought my life would take a turn for the best when I got married. My new husband had a large family. I hoped to finally gain the love and family I ached for my whole life.
I am working on a life quilt in memory of my son Jonathan. At the age of 27
he was involved in a fatal motorcycle accident. I cannot explain what that
kind of loss feels like. It was as if my soul had been ripped from me and
turned inside out. My first prayer was that he hadn’t suffered. God was very
gracious to my son and those left behind. His death was almost
instantaneous. My heart broke when I read the police accident report,
something no parent should do. I got an instant migraine after reading it.
Though he wore a helmet, he had severe head and chest injuries. Had he
survived, it would have been a tough road for him and our family, and for the large
number of close friends he had.
My son was total testosterone. He loved sports, guns, hunting, motorcycles,
camping, fishing; anything manly. When he was about three years old, he
began emulating his older sisters and their friends. He liked the color pink
so much it didn’t matter if he got cherry, strawberry, raspberry, or bubble
gum flavored ice-cream. When asked which ice-cream he wanted he shouted,
“Pink. I want pink.” Continue reading