Poppycock!!!

This is a bit of a rant!

I hear it a lot.
About all kinds of days.
I hear it about birthdays.
I hear it about anniversaries.
I heard it again last night.
"Oh we don't celebrate Valentine's Day.
He loves me well every day of the year."
I say poppycock!!!

Don't get me wrong!
We should love well
every single day!
But every once in a while
we should go above and beyond.
We should make our husbands or wives
feel extra special,
extra appreciated.
And our culture has provided us
with a few "public" days to do that.

Can I tell you a secret?
Except I don't think it's really a secret.
I think everyone -
men and women alike -
know this without being told.
But we don't say it out loud,
we just feel it in our hearts.
Women - and men I think - who say what my friend said last night...
don't mean it!
They really wish their spouses
would make them feel extra special
on those extra special days.
And really, they're embarrassed -
and hurt -
that their spouses don't care enough
to go to the extra effort
just a few days out of the year
to make them feel extra cherished.
Because that's how it feels.

Can I tell you something else?
Those of us whose spouses
go to that extra effort
feel a bit sorry for them.
And no one wants their friends
to pity them.
Especially because of their spouse.

Men, it doesn't take a lot!
It just takes remembering,
a little extra doing or saying -
"I'm glad you're my Valentine!"
"I'm glad you were born!"
"I'm so glad you chose me to be yours!"
Maybe dinner out.
Maybe a card.
Maybe write a corny poem.
Take her in your arms and slow dance -
even for just a minute..
These little things
make us feel wonderful,
even giddy.
And they make us feel very, very loved
and very, very special.
Just a little effort goes a long way!

And a bit of not doing or saying.  
Never, ever, ever say things like -
"This is a stupid day!"
"Just another day for retailers to soak me!"
"I love you every day, I shouldn't need to remind you."

And ladies, don't you get sloppy either!
He may say it's silly, unnecessary
but really, he wants you to
make him feel special too!
Bake him a birthday cake!
Make a romantic, candle lit dinner.
Fix your hair that way he especially likes it.
Tell him how very much you appreciate him
and all he does for you!
Make him feel respected, admired, needed!
It makes him feel very fortunate to have you!
Just a little effort goes a long way!

So, get on the stick!
And have a happy Valentine's Day!

Year of Jubilee

To be sure,
I am loosely translating this
to my life!
The Year of Jubilee
in the Jewish faith and tradition,

(Our LORD was Jewish

and while many of the customs of the Jewish faith

are null and void

with the death and resurrection

of our Saviour,

we can still learn and profit

from them!) 

the Year of Jubilee

is a year of restoration, forgiveness, and freedom.

Technically,

the Year of Jubilee occurred on the year following

the lapse of the seventh Sabbath of years.

So the Year of Jubilee is the 50th year. 

However, many consider it to occur

every seventh year.

In the United States

every seventh year,

bad credit falls off your report.

Many crimes have a seven year

statute of limitations.

In Jewish tradition,

the Year of Jubilee

meant the forgiveness of debt,

return of property,

freedom for slaves. 

Think about that for just a second!

Life changing freedom!

From that point forward,

no more slavery to the past.

Nothing will be as it was!

Never the same again!

This evening,

I will enter into the seventh year.

Today is the sixth anniversary.

At 4:59 p.m.,

I will begin the seventh year without my Al.

Yesterday morning,

while laying in bed,

talking to the LORD,

I was very suddenly impressed that

I was entering my Year of Jubilee! 

As I considered what that might mean,

I began to think about my grief journey.

The days when the pain of loss was physical,

when I thought I might literally be dying.

The days when I couldn't move,

couldn't think,

couldn't eat.

The confusion.

The tears.

Then came the days of desperation.

Anything to make it stop.

The frenzy of activity.

Running away from home.

Dating too soon.

Laughing too loud.

Forcing myself to move forward.

Then the days of stillness,

waiting on the LORD.

The quiet.

The solitude.

Choosing joy over happiness.

Moving at God's pace,

not mine,

not Al's.

Softening grief.

Beginning to see beauty again.

Genuine laughter.

Then my Lanny Love.

Restoration.

Happiness.

Love.

The return of the music.

And a different kind of sorrow.

The fifth year,

the one leading up to the fifth anniversary,

when the grief unexpectedly

consumed me again,

threatened my happiness,

hovered over everything

like a dark shadow.

Always,

over it all,

the constant knowledge.

He is gone!

Then last year,

the sixth one.

Softening once again.

The assurance that it was not just

okay

for me to be happy,

it was right under God!

The lessening,

then cessation,

of daily, actively missing him,

missing his presence.

The lessening,

and just recently,

the cessation

of feeling guilty for loving my Lanny Love,

for being happy -

not just happy,

but happily, joyously, lovingly married happy -

the end of jealousy on his behalf.

The end of the constant shadow,

the constant awareness that

he is gone.

Then yesterday morning,

the LORD's whisper -

"Your Year of Jubilee is about to begin!" 

Today,

as I remember Al

on this sixth anniversary 

of his Homegoing,

I think of a phrase about Heaven

that someone mentioned recently,

"We are homesick for a place we have never been" 

and I rejoice that Al is not homesick,

he is Home! 

Today,

on this sixth anniversary,

I feel a lightness,

a happiness,

a freedom

that I have not experienced before,

and,

as I have suspected for for a little while,

I believe I am no longer grieving.

Love has not ended.

I love him still!

There are those days when he should be here

and I miss him.

There are those moments I remember a specific thing

and I miss him.

But the constant awareness,

the sorrow,

the grief,

that has left me.

Now I remember and smile.

In gratitude that he was mine for those years.

In love.

My Year of Jubilee.

Freedom from slavery to grief.

Nothing will every be the same again. 

Thank You, LORD!

 

 

What is this?

I have been quiet.
For some time I have been pondering
what I want from my blog.

Is it simply a way to process my life,

a public journal?

It is definitely that.

Is it a way to express myself creatively,
something I crave?
Yes.

Is it a forum for widows,

remarried or not,

and how life is different now than then,

a way to encourage,

help them know they are not alone

in what they feel and experience?

Uh-huh.

Is it a place to celebrate

my happiness,

bemoan my irritations?

To a degree.

Is it a place to brag on

my "practically-perfect-in-every-way"

husband, children, and grandchildren?

Any forum is appropriate for that!

Is it a potential way to

make some money?

Possibly. 

Is it a way of witnessing

to the faithfulness and grace

of a loving God, a merciful Saviour?

Absolutely.

What is it ultimately?

I think I want it to be all of those things.

But, you see,

in order to be any of those things

it - no, I -

must must take risk,

be completely open.

Vulnerable in a way that,

frankly,

makes me quite uncomfortable.

I must be willing to say in public

those unspeakable things

I think in private.

I must be willing to share

my emotions and feelings

regardless of what "they" will think,

those things which are unshareable.

Otherwise, this is just another social page.

And that I know

I do not want!

It is something I feel
spiritually compelled to do,
this risky, open, vulnerability.
So, here I go.

Vulnerable.

Open.

Risking.

Hang on for the ride!

Grumbling about our blessings

I started this post a couple weeks ago.
I knew I needed to write about it,
but it felt flat.
I couldn't put words to what I was feeling.

Today it came to me!

A couple weeks ago in Sunday School,
my Lanny Love,
who was teaching on the fifth chapter of James,
made the comment:

"We should be counting our blessings

rather than grumbling about them!"

Now, can I be honest here?

I can't remember in what context

he made the observation

as it relates to James.

But I remember the way it affected me -

and that phrase has stuck with me!!!

Now, I'm not a generally grumbly kind of gal.
Mostly I see silver linings and the positive side of things.
But now and again,
just like all of us,
I'm grumpy.

Today is one of those days.

I'd like to share a text conversation
I had with my closest female friend, Chris,
this afternoon.

(Young at Hearts, please forgive me!)

Me: I forgot we have stupid young at heart tonight so no feet. 

(insert grumpy emoji here)

(She is also my reflexologist)

 As you can tell, I am thrilled about going and my attitude is peachy... 

(nose growing emoji)

Chris:  LOL!!! Yeah, I can tell.

And I'm sorry too.

Me: I'm feeling very sorry for myself and very put upon today. 

Because, you know, my life's so bad... 

(that was sarcasm - I have a GREAT life!!!)

Can't seem to shake the grumpies...

Chris: I'm sorry. And it's all relative. 

(My friend is very generous!)

Me: I haven't had a good pity party in a long time! 

I think I'll just decide I'm due one and embrace it. 

Until 6pm when I must transform into sweet Gina.

(Pause as I work up some pitiable problems.......)

Me: You know, it's pretty hard to have a full blown pity party 

when the best I can come up with to feel sorry for myself about 

is that I have to go to a potluck/domino party tonight 

with a bunch of people who love me 

and whom I love 

and I'd rather stay home and pout...

but I'm going to work on it! 

Chris: Oooh, snap! Yeah, not much there I'm afraid...

Me: Zach is coming and bringing 2 more dogs to pee on the floor - 

surely that's justifiable!

(I have spent the last two days cleaning carpet

because of naughty doggies.

I thought about waiting until 

after the granddogs leave,

but one is still a puppy in training

and that would be an invitation

and make it harder for Zach and Jamie

to continue his training!)

Chris: Oh yeah, that'll do it.....

hang on to the shampooer....

(Borrowed shampooer

and I will!)

Me: And I have to cook dinner 

for a whole bunch of nice people Saturday night 

and I can't fall back on easy but noteworthy spaghetti! 

Now we're rollin'........ 

(tongue sticking out, winking emoji)

Chris: Lol!!!!!

Me: And they can't fix the dryer until Friday 

and it's really, really loud and annoying! 

Yeah baby!

(Oh my goodness!!!

SO loud and annoying!!!)

Okay, better now! Thanks!

Chris: Now the blessings.........

Me: (yellow heart emoji)

Soooooooooooo many! 

And, funny thing, 

many are the same as the grumbles!

And it hit me!!!

I am grumbling about my blessings!!!

I get to go to Young at Heart tonight

because I am part of 

a loving, accepting, giving church community!

I get to clean the carpet 

because I have carpet to clean in my lovely home;

because I have a sweet little doggie 

who is having some issues right now;

because I get to see my bonus son and daughter-in-love

and their sweet little babies;

because I have a dear friend who loaned me her cleaner!

I get to entertain Saturday night -

and can I be straight up honest here? -

I LOVE entertaining!

I get to listen to a noisy dryer

because I have a dryer!

And I get to have it repaired

rather than living with the noise

until it dies and I no longer have a dryer!

I'm not sure why I was grumpy this morning.

But I'm sure why I'm grateful that

God has so richly blessed me!

Lord, forgive my grumbling!

Thank You for Your generosity!

My whole being praise the Lord

and do not forget all His kindnesses!

                                                   ~~ Psalm 103:2

This was the week...

Five years ago today,
my grandsons and I left for
a five-day adventure
in Red River, NM.
I had been widowed
for six months,
four days.
During that week,
I began to live again.

The journey ahead of me
was to be very, very long
and extremely strenuous.
There would be times
I would think I would not,
could not,
survive.

But I did.

I not only survived,
I began to thrive.

But I had to make choices.
Existence versus living.
Joy.
Letting the grief flow,
and letting it ebb.
Fighting the urge to quit.
Choices and consequences.
Either way you go.

Some of my choices were foolish,
painful,
costly.
But I would make them again
if it meant coming to today -
which, of course, it would.
Most of my choices were

adventurous!

Or at least it felt like that to me!

I chose to try something new

in the way of a career.

I chose to look at the possibility

of dating and remarriage.

I chose to pursue that.

I chose to do the things,

go the places,

I wanted to go -

even if it meant doing so by myself.

I chose new friends.

I chose to forgive the old ones

by whom I felt abandoned.

I chose to accept where God had placed me -

and to allow Him to move me forward.

I chose to feel the grief,

but feed the growth.

I miss him still.

Sometimes painfully so!

But life is good!

Joy-filled!

I am happy!

Content!

Five years ago today,

it began.

A new adventure.

Something I'd never done before.

I chose to allow God to teach me something new.

I chose to learn to live without him.

I'm glad I did!

 

I look up to the mountains -

does my help come from there?

My help comes from the Lord, 

who made the heavens and the earth!

He will not let you stumble and fall;

the one who watches over you will not sleep.

Indeed, he who watches over Israel

never tires and never sleeps.

The Lord himself watches over you!

The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade.

The sun will not hurt you by day,

nor the moon at night.

The Lord keeps you from all evil

and preserves your life.

The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go,

both now and forever.

~~ Psalm 121 NLT

Anniversaries

42 Years.

I was a brand new bride,
five hours to be exact,
at the moment of this writing.
After nearly five years of being his girl,
I was finally his missus!
I was so excited!
And happy!

How I loved that man!!!
And how he loved me!!!

Over the next nearly 37 years,
love grew and bloomed
into a flowering plant of rare beauty.

7 years.

I did not know.
It would be the last anniversary we would celebrate together.
The next year,
he would be gone.
Celebrating would have ended.
Observing would have begun.
And grief such as I had never known
engulfed me.

Over the next two years,
I learned.
I learned to be single.
I learned to be Gina rather than AlGina.
I learned that he had given me a great gift
in his conversation encouraging me to remarry.
I learned that while I could live alone,
I didn't want to live alone.
He had been right!
I needed to be married,
should be married.
And I learned to be a better wife during those years
while I was NOT a wife!

God had commanded a period of quiet,

stillness,

waiting,

listening.
During that time,
He showed me many things.
I grew tremendously.

As a woman of God.

As a woman of the world.

As a wife.
I listened and learned.

3 years.

It was the observance of my 39th wedding anniversary.
I had been seeing someone for several weeks.
Someone very special.
Someone who would tell me that night
for the first time
that he loved me.
Someone to whom I would
for the first time
express my love.
I was excited.
I was happy.
I was sad.
I was confused.

May I confess?
I did expect to remarry at that point.
I did not expect to ever deeply love again.
And when it happened,
I felt disloyal.
And some others felt I was disloyal.

Over the next nine months
God taught me a lot more about love!
He taught me it is possible to deeply and completely
love more than one man at the same time.
He taught me that doing so was not disloyal.
To either of them.
And in the ensuing months and years,
love has grown and bloomed
into a flowering plant of rare beauty!

My vase is full!
Two blooms!
Each exotic and special.
Each unique, one-of-a-kind.
Each admired and envied by others.
One a cut bloom,
no longer growing and thriving,
but preserved and cherished.
One a lovely, flowering, rooted plant,
thriving and growing and lovely!

Thirty-six years, ten months, eight days
of love and marriage.
Three years of me and God,
changing, evolving.
And now, three years of growing love,
two years, three months, 16 days
of love and marriage.

God has been so good to me!

Dad

Eight years ago today,
just ten days after his sweet wife, Jackie,
my dad died of a broken heart.
Oh, he had health issues aplenty!
But a broken heart is what he died of.

They had not been married many years.
They were not first spouses to one another.
But they were the love of each other's lives,
each living beyond their life expectancy
for the sake of the other.

My dad was a brilliant man.
A literal genius.
He was musically gifted
playing many instruments
including his voice -
the deepest bass I ever heard.
He was also a gifted artist, writer, poet, and so much more.

He loved playing games,
particularly pinochle.
And he loved words and tongue twisters.
I have an extensive vocabulary largely because of him.

My dad was different.
He wasn't your average American male.
He was a star-gazer and spent hours upon hours
looking at the night sky.
He invented things.
He was a great cook.
He loved debate.

Our relationship was different,
not your average daddy/daughter relationship.
It was difficult from the get-go and never became 
what either of us wished and hoped
I grieve over that.
A lot.
But I loved him.

I was 52 when he died.
Still, I felt like an orphan.

Dad and Jackie both opted to donate their bodies
to the University of Vermont for education and research purposes.
I don't know what was learned from their generosity,
but I like to think that there may be diabetics, heart patients,
and others who have already benefited from their gifts. 

Rest in peace, Dad.

Honor your father and your mother,

that your days may be prolonged

in the land which the LORD your God gives you. 

                                                                    ~~  Exodus 20:12

Remembering

I have struggled with this post.
I have written and deleted.
Written some more.
Deleted some more.
Nothing seems right.

Today is five years.
Five.

Long.

Years.

1826 days.

Days of sorrow such as I have never known.

Days of the most drastic changes I've ever experienced.

Days that lasted for years ~

and flew by in the blink of an eye.

What does one say about a man who is gone ~

before he was ready to go ~

before we were ready to let him go?

Do I say he loved and served God every single day?

He did!

Do I say he loved me with all his heart?

He did!

Do I say he loved his little girls wholly and completely?

He did!

Do I say he loved his grandsons and granddaughter

and delighted in them?

He absolutely did!

Do I say he was the very finest kind of husband,

daddy,

papa,

son,

brother,

friend?

He was the very finest!

Do I say he was brilliant?

He was!

Do I say he was a hard worker?

The hardest!

Do I say he was passionate about all he believed?

 Extremely!

Do I tell you of his tenderness?

His generosity?

His sense of humor?

His wit?

His friendliness?

Do I tell you of his desire to and gift of preaching?

Teaching?

Do I tell you of his magnificent baritone?

Do I show you pictures of him playing in the floor with his little girls?

Do I share the stories of him playing catch with Kim 

and one resulting ER trip?

Do I tell you about the time he caught Chrys up on the run 

and flipped her over in the store?

Or her hand wrapped around his finger as a pre-teen

because his hands were too big to hold the whole thing.

Do I tell you about the middle of the night shopping trips 

for a specific brand of pacifier?

Do I tell you about the Saturday morning breakfasts, 

just he and Kim?

Do I tell you about the ways he romanced me, 

made me feel special and cherished?

Do I tell you about the 15 1/2 year old boy who asked me to go steady at 14,

the only boy I ever dated,

and the five years of our courtship?

Or do I tell you about the man he became 

who married me and cared for me every day for the next nearly 37 years?

Do I tell you of the man who worked through the hard times

and reveled in the good times?

Do I tell you about the man who sat me down just a couple weeks before his death

and gave me his instructions and expectations for my life after Al,

for living and loving and remarriage?

Do I tell you about him shooting BB guns and bows and arrows with his grandsons

and letting his granddaughter put bows in his hair?

Do I tell you about the man who loved and respected his sons-in-law?

Do I tell you about the son who served his parents?

The brother who loved his siblings?

Do I tell you about the man

who only wanted the very best for all those he loved

and to be needed and loved by them?

How can I sufficiently honor such a man on this anniversary of his death in this life

and birth into eternal life?

What can I say about him? 

Those of you who knew and loved him,

already know anything I could say.

For those who didn't,

no words I can say will give an accurate portrayal

of the kind of man who walked this earth

for 57 years, one month, 20 days and,
five years ago today,
left behind a gaping, open wound,

a hole in the hearts and lives of those who loved him best.

This then, is what I will say.

This man ~

~ this husband ~

~ daddy ~

~ papa ~

~ son ~

~ brother ~

~ friend ~

 ~ this man,

this great man,

is loved more than he knew,

missed more than he would have thought possible,

and thought of daily.

I cherish the years,

nearly 42 of them all told,

that we were a couple

and I am profoundly grateful

that he was mine.

Five years.

I remember............ 

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes,

and there will be no more death, sadness, crying, or pain, 

because all the old ways are gone.

                                                                      ~~ Revelation 21:4

30 Days of Thanks: My People, Day 9

I am a step-mom.
Times three.
Bonus children are different than children.
Don't get me wrong,
I adore my bonus children!
Love them passionately and deeply and wholly!
No matter what!
But it wasn't always that way.

If you read my day four post,
you know that I loved my children instantly!
I grew to like them,
but I loved them instantly.
That is not the case with bonus children.
With bonus children,
you like them immediately -
or maybe you don't -
but you grow to love them.

When I met the first one,
my Lanny Love and I
had only been dating a little while.
I thought I was falling in love with him
and he with me.
But we had not said those three little words yet.
I was sure they were coming soon,
(Five days later, as it turned out)
but there was still no commitment
or likelihood of one.

It so happened that
Aleisha and her boyfriend, Blu,
went to the same performance of a play
that we did one evening.
And so, we met.
We sized one another up -
as women do -
and I liked her and her Blu,
immediately.
But I did not love her.

As my Lanny Love and I grew in our love,
I began to love his children because he loved them.
By the time I met Zach,
I loved Aleisha because I loved her.
We had developed a friendship,
had enjoyed lunch together a few times.
She had become my cherished new friend and
I had begun to look at her as a daughter.

It took longer with Zach.
While I liked him
and his sweet wife, Jamie,
immediately,
and I loved him as my Lanny Love's
and knew that it was likely
he would become my bonus child,
He did not live here
and he was a boy!
We didn't lunch, or text.
But the more I knew him through his dad,
and the more often he came to visit in the ensuing months,
the more I loved him.
And, can I be honest here?
He was extra special to me because he was a boy.
The son I craved!

My third bonus child,
my sweet Tiffany,
I did not meet until the night of our wedding.
I liked her immediately
and she very quickly became my friend.
But can I tell you that
I also loved her immediately?
Like my children,
she was mine the moment I laid eyes on her!

You see, the night Lanny and I married,
we became one in the eyes of God.
My children and grandchildren had just become his.
His children and grandchild had just become mine.
And something magic happened.
I loved them as mine!
No matter what.
No matter what they might have done,
or said,
or how they might have acted,
just as with the flesh of my flesh,
blood of my blood children,
none of it would have mattered!
They were mine!
Just like my own are mine,
that night, they became mine as well!
And I loved them all!!!

The Bible says little about stepchildren. Most of what it says is about half siblings, brothers or sisters that share one parent. The only thing that it specifically says about stepchildren is that a man may not have sex with a stepdaughter for that would be incest, even though she is not of his own blood. The passages are Leviticus 18:17, Leviticus 20:17, and Ezekiel 22:11. 

Beyond that, it seems to be understood that a parent's responsibilities are the same whether a natural parent, adoptive parent, or stepparent. No distinction is made, anyway, between the three. When you consider what God has done for us, saving us from our sins, and that the scriptures say those who are saved are adopted by God (Romans 8; Galatians 4; Ephesians 1:5), then it is clear that God treats the adopted children (and one would presume stepchildren if it were possible) the same as the natural son. If God treats us that way, then we ought to treat children who are not our birth-children the same as if they were.

How amazing that God granted me
that love for my bonus children
the moment He joined me to their daddy!

Bonus families are not always easy.
Especially with adults.
Blending children who are grieving loss,
who were raised in different households,
with different styles,
adult children with differing personalities
and lifestyles,
is challenging.
Sometimes I laugh -  a lot.
Sometimes I cry - a lot.

But it and they are always worth the time and effort!
It has recently occurred to me
that Jesus was a step-child
and Joseph a step-parent.
We are in good company!

In my list of people for whom I am grateful,
my bonus children are a great blessing!
Thank you, Lord!
Thank you for

my Tiffany,

 

my Aleisha and Blu,

my Zach and Jamie!

You are a good, good, God!

30 Days of Thanks: My People, Day 7

I am playing catch up.
With one exception,
I have posted on the "special days"
but our schedule has kept me from my computer
the other days.
So, catch up.

As I said in my first day post,
I am doing these in the order they came to mind
with the exception of the special days.
Today is day seven.

I am grateful for my widow's group.
Let me tell you about them.

We are a group of christian women whose husbands have died.
We "meet" on Facebook in a private group
through a wonderful website,

Christian Widows Place,

run by author,

Ferree Hardy.

There are three levels of groups.

1. Lifeboat - Stage one grief. Drowning in grief! New anguish. Confusion. How do I live? WHY should I live? How do I change the oil? Who do I call for repairs? Where are my friends? Are your kids....? Am I going crazy? It's the place where we empathize with one another in the new, never-wanted-this, normal. You can stay in this boat for as long as you like. Some have been widowed just a few days, some many years. Everyone grieves at a different rate, but all grief has some commonality and all grievers need to feel they are not alone!
2. Going Ashore - Stage two grief. Reality has set in. We have begun to move forward. We have relearned how to breath automatically rather than having to remind ourselves to do so. We have begun to comb our hair. We have begun to want to heal. The new "normal" has become more familiar. The fog has begun to lift. We are no longer drowning, we see the shore, some have touched it, some are walking on it. Again, we are at different time periods and all can stay as long as they want.
3. Love Boat - Stage three grief. We are thinking about dating, have begun trying to date, are dating, are engaged, or have remarried. This is the group of which I am currently a member. 

Within these groups,
we bare our souls.
We share things,
say things,
that we do not share or say anywhere else.
Because unless you've been there,
you don't understand.
And, in the case of those further along,
even fellow widows who have not yet
reached your stage,
may not understand.
In fact, unless you've been there,
it is very likely you would misunderstand
were we to say some of the things we say.
My widow's groups have been,
and are,
very important to me.
I love my widows!

Most of us have never met.
But we are close friends!
Some of us have been privileged to meet.
I have been very blessed to meet four of my friends!

Today, I am grateful to God
for my "boats" and the ladies in them
and to Ferree Hardy for her obedience to God
in launching a "lifeboat"!

And so encourage one another and help one another, 

just as you are now doing.

                                     ~~ 1 Thessalonians 5:11 ~~

30 Days of Thanks: My People, Day 14

November is a difficult month in our little love nest.
Judy's birthday,
the day Al was released to hospice care,
Al's birthday,
my mom's birthday,
and now, this year,
we have added the the homegoing
of my Lanny Love's dear mother-in-love.
All within the first two weeks of November.
While we rejoice in the reward 
these precious ones now experience,
we cannot help but feel their loss
in our hearts and lives
especially on special dates.

Today is one of those special days.
My precious mommy would have been 81 today.
She only celebrated 44birthdays
before her homegoing nearly 37 years ago.
I no longer actively miss her every single day.
But there are moments,
periods of time when I do.
Still.
Today, and for the last several days,
I have actively missed her.

Today, on her birthday,
I want to give thanks to God for my precious mother!

My mom's life was not easy.
She was a child of divorce
in an era where that was a shameful thing.
She was a child of the depression and all the ramifications that held.
She was extremely shy and insecure.
Her marriage was difficult.
She had cancer.
Her life was not easy.

But she never quit!
She was a woman of great strength and determination!
She taught me about perseverance -
even in impossible circumstances!
She went to school with four children
while working a full-time job
and became a nurse -
and taught me that determination can take you really far!
She taught me that God loves us deeply -
because she showed us his transforming love in her own life!
She taught me that sometimes we are unloveable -
and God loves us anyway,
and she demonstrated that in her love for a sassy teenager!
She taught me that God carries us through those hard times -
because she let us see Him carry her!
She taught me that God loves us as we are,
not as we should be -
because we watched as God transformed her
into an increasingly godly woman over the years!
She taught me about forgiveness -
because she came to forgive,
deeply love,
and fervently pray for,
people who had deeply wounded her.
And my mama taught me that
death does not stop love -
because nearly 37 years after her death,
I still love her deeply!

My beautiful mama was smart and funny and loving!
She had a temper and a mouth
(The mouth! How I understand her struggle -
and she understood mine
and helped me learn,
is still helping me learn,
to bite my tongue,
to think about my words before using them!)
My mama had a wicked sense of humor
and delighted in pulling off practical jokes -
and she did it often and well!
She had great strength of character!
She was a wonderful mother,
and my best friend!

I miss my mommy today.
I am thinking of her hugs,
her love of her children,
her delight in her grandchild,
her excitement at knowing that her second was expected.
I am thinking of her sorrow at knowing
she would not get to finish raising her youngest child.
Her care for us in planning her own funeral.
So I am wearing White Shoulders,
her perfume,
and her pearls given to her by Karen,
and remembering my mama,
and thanking my God
for the great gift He gave me in her!

Happy birthday, Mama!
I love you!

Her children rise up and call her blessed...

~~  Proverbs 21:28 ~~ 

30 Days of Thanks: My People, Day 8

Today....
November 8...
A day of joy and celebration once.
A day of memories now.

Today, is my Al's earthly birthday.
Today my heart squeezes in pain
At the loss of him
And in joy at the life of him!

Today, I remember.
I remember the sweet young boy
With whom I fell in love.
I remember his 16th birthday,
The first of our courtship.
I remember his 21st,
The first of our marriage.
I remember his 23rd,
The first of our parenthood.
I remember his 57th,
The last on this earth.

I remember our first kiss,
First I love you -
I remember our last.
So many memories in between.

His godliness.
His brilliance.
His gentleness.
His kindness.
His compassion.
His protectiveness.
His sense of humor.

I remember.
And I am grateful to God
That He gave me such a man!

Happy birthday, Alfie!

Place me like a seal over your heart,

    like a seal on your arm;

for love is as strong as death,

    its jealousy[a] unyielding as the grave.

It burns like blazing fire,

    like a mighty flame.[b]

7 

Many waters cannot quench love;

    rivers cannot sweep it away.

If one were to give

    all the wealth of one’s house for love,

    it[c] would be utterly scorned.

                               ~~Song of Songs 8:6-7~~