The dreaded countdown to 20 years...

It's so hard to believe that we are coming up on the 20th anniversary of Lauren's passing next May. 

 It is overwhelming to remember that my son will be 40 in October, and he has lived half his life without his sister. 

Milestones are sometimes the worst. They just are. It makes you sick to your stomach when you are in the situation we are in. 

Milestones should be fun, and sometimes they are - Our 40th anniversary last year, our son's 40th birthday coming up, those special birthdays for our granddaughters. They are all bittersweet without her here. 

The 20th anniversary of losing your child is heart wrenching. There is no other way to express it, I'm afraid.

We'll get through it. We always do. It is only by God's love and the love and support of family, friends and even acquaintances. I am thankful it is not on Mother's Day this year, like it was 20 years ago. 

 So I'll smile through that day and cry in my heart. But I will always remember everything about her, and I'll talk about her to her nieces, her sister-in-law and brother, her father, her family, and anyone else who wants to listen. 

I'll think about being 20 years closer to being with her again, to that time when we will be worshipping the Lord together for eternity. 

40 years and counting

 This past July 10th, we celebrated 40 years of marriage. I am still in shock that we have been married for that long. We’ve been through moves to different cities, job changes, the loss of a child, the marriage of another child, becoming grandparents and retirement. It still doesn’t feel real. 

40 years of marriage!

We decided to have a family party for this year’s celebration. We were lucky to have all of my husband’s siblings, his brother-in-law and sister-in law and his nephews here as well as my brother and sister-in-law. My daughter-in-law’s whole family came and also my best friend from Mississippi and her family. We invited a sweet neighbor who we have grown to love and our gym teachers, who we have become friends with. It was a wonderful night and it meant a lot for our two families, who live so far apart to be together for a short while. It was the first time our granddaughters have had their entire immediate family together in one place. I think they enjoyed seeing all of their family together. 

Getting everything ready for the party was quite stressful, but in the end all the work was worth it.We have decided we will just go out to dinner for our 50th! 

One thing that happened at the party was a family jam! My husband, son, brother and brother-in-law favored us with some really good music. When I moved to Los Angeles to go to college and met Richard, he and his brother had a band. They practiced in my older brother Maurice’s garage. On the other side of the country was my brother Andre, who had been playing for years with such greats as Billy Joe Royal and Percy Sledge. I grew up with a band practicing in my living room. Our party was the first time they had ever played together. My son played with his father, and his two uncles on the stage. 

Family band! 

We made sure to honor Lauren at the party too. Her picture was in a prominent place for all to see. Our eldest granddaughter, whose middle name is Lauren after her aunt, made sure to show her love in a special way. 

My granddaughter’s message to Lauren. 

All in all it was a wonderful time. We are looking forward to many more years together!

 

Later that same year

 This has been a heck of a spring! I’ve had 2 cataract surgeries and 2 melanoma surgeries, and we moved my brother-in-law here in an effort to look after him. He’s a dialysis patient on SS disability. He’s my husband’s older brother. 

In between all that we spent a week with our West Coast family in Las Vegas for my nephew’s graduation! We got stuck overnight in Saint Louis because of weather. But we made it home! 

We had the girls last week and this weekend we are hosting some family for our 40th wedding anniversary! I’m exhausted, but I’m a good way! 

We are having a super hot summer! It’s been miserable! But going to the pool is a relief. 

As the summer progresses, I am happy for family and faith. We’re gonna make it! 

No excuses. No excuses.

Here I am back again saying I have no excuse for not posting sooner. I just get busy and neglect to do it. No excuses. 

November and December were busier than usual as we took trips to Las Vegas and South Carolina to visit our families. We also had visits from Richard’s brother and sister-in-law and then my brother and sister-in-law. In between all that, we had our regular activities including our granddaughters’ Christmas program at their church, on a Christmas train ride with them and to a tree lighting and parade with them. It was a fun and happy time for us. 

With all this activity and the Omicron variant raising its ugly head,  we did not get to go and place Christmas flowers on Lauren’s grave, which greatly distressed me. My sweet longtime friend Michelle went over and took care of that for me without even asking. I had bought the flowers and they are still in my Christmas closet at home. 

We were able to go back and visit our hometown in Mississippi a couple of weeks ago and I was able to visit her grave again. I took purple flowers for the Lenten season. I was so glad to do that. I’ve said before this is my way of continuing to mother her in the only way I can. (Her sweet friend Brittany was the first one to bring this to my attention, and I never forgot it.) 

I found a sweet picture of Lauren that I had not seen in a long time. I’m going to share it. I see a lot of my Vivian in that picture. 

Till next time… 

The legacy our Ricey left us

My nephew Ricey left us the other day after a month of sickness and hospital stays. We held out hope that he’d stay here with us, but that was not to be. I’ve been on pins and needles since my great niece Jenny (his oldest daughter) first called me. Since that first call, I have prayed day and night. Jenny stayed by his side and fought the good fight for him. She kept her family informed every step of the way, and for that I am eternally grateful. I call her my little fighter. If you have Jenny on your side, she’ll fight to the death for you. Literally. My great niece Bernie (his youngest daughter) is a tower of strength who knows how to get things organized and going on the right track. She’s a preacher’s wife and her sweet, steady spirit is so calming. The legacy Ricey left us is two beautiful, strong women who are great wives and mothers. They are precious daughters to their mother Ann and treasures to all the rest of this family. 

    Reese is exactly 2 months and 19 days older than I am. His dad was my oldest brother and he was 23 when I came along. They lived with us at the time of Ricey’s and my birth, and everyone in town thought Ricey and I were twins. We were babies together that first year, and then his brother Scott came along and there were three babies in the house all under the age of two for a little while. My brother Andre, who was five at the time, must have wondered how in one fell swoop he was not only no longer the baby of the family, but had three little people to compete with! 

(Warning! Favorite family story!) Once when we were about a year old, our little chihuahua “Minute”bit Ricey, so Ricey bit a chunk out of his tail in return. The dog never bit another living soul for the rest of his life. 

  When my brother moved his family back to California, I lost my two little playmates and I cried and cried. I felt like I had two brothers and a sister (after their sister Cheryl was born) instead of two nephews and a niece. They came back to live with us for a while, and Ricey and I started first grade together in Jonesville. Try explaining how a six-year-old can be your nephew when you are six years old, too!

  They ultimately went back to California and we would visit as often as we could. Any time we were apart, it felt like no time had passed when we got back together again. We played together, laughed together and had the best times together. I can remember watching a magic show on tv and Ricey would exclaim after every trick that he knew exactly how that magician had done that! 

  I decided to go to California to go to college, and it was there that Ricey introduced me to his best friend Richard, who was to become my husband. Ricey was always in awe that his best friend became his uncle. Richard has known Ricey for 52 years and today made me so proud when he gave the eulogy at our nephew’s funeral. He shared his memories of his childhood friend and how much Ricey meant to both of us. 

  We would both get married, have children and grandchildren and see each other at holidays and family dinners, after the family moved back to SC and we moved back to the South. Those times were the best. We’ve shared grief at the loss of family members, joy at weddings or the births of children and happiness at graduations in our family. 

Ricey and his wife Christy came to visit us before we moved from Mississippi. We loved spending that time with them, and it meant more to us than we can begin to share. He texted us often to talk about music that he loved, or to share a photo. We talked to him via video-chat the day before he left us and I know he could hear us, even in his weakened state. He reacted to the sound of mine and Richard’s voices. He left this world knowing how much we loved him. 

  Ricey could do literally anything he put his mind to. He made beautiful pieces of woodwork for his family. People have beautiful wooden benches, crosses, back scratchers, game boards, paint sets and cornhole sets that he fashioned from wood for us. We have family pictures and videos among the family, but those wooden pieces he made are things that truly show his love for his family and his giving heart. Those are family keepsakes that we will always treasure. 

   A little piece of my heart is gone from this earth. A Ricey-shaped hole that no one else can fill. I love you, my twin. 

Bernie, Jenny and me before the funeral. 

My “twin.” 

My brother Maurice, Ricey, Cheryl, my nephew Keith, my mother and me.
I think Ricey and I are about 13.

Cooling off in California: Ricey, Cheryl, unknown neighbor,
 me (standing) and Scott. 

Richard, Scott, Ricey and me a couple of Christmases ago. 

Our Sunday miracle

 Richard and I took a trip last week to Myrtle Beach with my brother and sister-in-law. It’s an annual trip (except for Co-Vid year) and we always look forward to it. 

We flew this year. Not because we cannot make the drive- but because it is so long and tiring. We are toast by the time we get back to our home in Alabama. It was even worse when we lived in Mississippi. It is a long drive to the East Coast from the Mid South, folks. 

We had a great week together and were able to visit all our favorite places. We found some new restaurants that we liked. We got to visit with our great niece Bernie and her family, who live pretty close by and with my lifelong friend, Bobby, who actually lives there. 

Lots of sun and sand, fireworks and shopping. Good for the soul, one might say. 

On Saturday, my brother Andre’ and his wife Susan left after dropping us off at the hotel next to the airport. We were to fly out on Sunday morning. We decided we would go to mass in Myrtle Beach on Saturday evening. We checked our Uber app and found out it would be $37 per way for a 10 minute drive. Well, that was the end of that. We then opted to attend the Spanish language mass at our home church on Sunday, since it was at 5 p.m. We would be just fine with that. 

We had a nice dinner at the mall next to the hotel and got the shuttle to the airport Sunday morning. We flew into Charlotte for a layover. As soon as we got there, we heard an announcement over the loud speaker: “Attention! There will be a Catholic mass in the auditorium in 15 minutes.” We could not believe our ears. We ran over to a ticket counter and asked where the auditorium was, found out it was on the other side of the airport basically and started running. We found the auditorium after hoofing it for the entire 15 minutes and bounded up the stairs where we were met by an elderly deacon who said “Come on in! We’ll wait for you!” 

It was probably the best feeling I have had in a long time to be there with a group of complete strangers celebrating the Eucharist in an airport. Turns out the priest was the chaplain to the Carolina Panthers. He got us in and out in a record 30 minutes. 

We went down afterward to find some lunch and were talking about how in all of our travels, neither of us had ever heard an announcement like that in any airport we have ever been in. It was truly a miracle for us! I think we will both always remember our Sunday miracle in Charlotte Douglas Airport. 

Seawatch Plantation 

Family time with Bernie and Brad

Dinner with our sweet friend Bobby

Yelton/Kerr descendants

Bernie, Brad and Micah

A beautiful cross at Murrell’s Inlet

What I don't like about getting older

 There are probably way too many things to name so I'll just name the ones that really get to me. 

First, the petty ones:

I really hate it when I say "excuse me" to someone out of courtesy (if I have to cross in front of them in a line, if I am in their way, if I accidentally bump into them) and they reply, "You're fine!" What does that even mean? How about, "Oh, no problem.!" or "Thank you!" (woah- I really am old!) 

You can look back at my "Pity Party" posts from when I was working and understand this better. I don't like people thinking a) I'm dumb and clueless; b) I have no idea what is going on in the world; c) I can't do things for myself and d) I know nothing about technology, just because I am older. I thought people were supposed to appreciate the elderly! (Not that I am ELDERLY) 

I'm a walking history book when it comes to the 60's and 70's culture, music, movies, TV and such and young people just don't know about our bands, our shows, our culture. Why should they? They have their own! But the ones who "dis" us like our time didn't matter really get on my nerves. Some of y'all could benefit from learning about us. (Off my soapbox) 

I really wish people would learn how to dress appropriately. I wish men would take pride in their appearance. I guess I am spoiled because my handsome Italian husband never leaves the house unless he's "dressed to the nines" as they say. (even when he's wearing a t-shirt and shorts!) Every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man 🎶 

 I also wish girls/women would show a little more modesty in their dress. You don't have to wear expensive clothes to take pride in your appearance and model that to the young folks. It says something about you and your self-esteem in my old mind. 

Now the ones that are life changing:

Seeing the people (younger than me) getting older and growing up and changing. I like to think of people in a certain way and now... My son will be 40 years old in a couple of years. That is impossible for me to fathom. Lauren is perpetually 18 in my mind and I struggle to think of her as 35 years old. I just can't. 

I see my granddaughters growing up before my very eyes, and I wish they were still the babies they were just a short time ago. I am happy and sad at the same time. It is really bittersweet. That is life, though. I am going to try to really observe and enjoy all of the phases the girls go through. It's a lot easier to do as a grandmother than it was as a mother. 

I don't like all the aches and pains my body likes to annoy me with. I am very grateful that I don't suffer from a lot of health issues. The little things I have are part of aging. I just wish I had taken better care of myself when I was younger, but still I am lucky in the respect that some of my peers really have some bad issues. I am thankful. 

I am trying hard to dress appropriately for my age without looking like I'm a hundred years old. I am not trying to be 25 because I am not, and I probably wouldn't want to be again. I just try hard to be age appropriate and not dowdy. I don't think my son wants his mama to dress like she "shops for her wardrobe at Cracker Barrel," to quote an old friend of mine. (Actually, I have seen some cute things there lately. They have upped their game. It used to be quilted vests and sweatsuits.)  I jokingly told my daughter-in-law Anna to put me away if I started dressing like that, and she said she'd keep her young eyes out for me! (Disclaimer: I am not going to embarrass myself or my son by attempting to wear a bikini!) 

Lastly, I don't like what is going on in our country and in our world. I worry about the kind of world my grand daughters have to grow up in. We are so lucky that they have fantastic parents who are keeping watch on them and a weather eye on the horizon to make sure these girls are being trained up in the church and are getting a good education both at home and in their schools. We're blessed that their other grandparents are salt of the earth, Christian people who carry the same values that we and their parents do. So damn lucky and I am so very grateful for that. I pray for them day and night. 

So I will try to do my part to grow old gracefully. As gracefully as I can. 

What I like about getting older

There are a lot of things I actually like about getting older. Of course, being a grandmother (Mimi) is the best thing. 

Other than that, I like the fact that I no longer worry about wearing fancy shoes. I'm in it for the comfort these days. I've found some really cute flats that feel really good. I don't worry about cute high heels and such, though.

I really like not having to worry about going to work every day. I thought I would miss it, but I actually don't miss deadlines and hassles. I really miss the people I worked with though. They were the best. The college where I worked was one big family, and I miss them and the fun we had. But working? Nope! 

I'm glad that I don't have to worry about dressing for work and also about wearing make up. MAKE-UP! I don't worry about it anymore. (unless I am going to church or somewhere dressed up and I will see people I have known for years) Vanity of Vanities, as they say! Seriously, though I adjusted the amount of make up I wear a while back based on an article I read about women over 60. The last thing I am looking for is to try to look inappropriately young. In other words, I think I would look like a clown at my age. 

But the upshot of it is, I am getting to be ok with who I am and my age in life (FINALLY!) 

The one thing I remember each day is that each day I live is one day closer to when I will be with my Lauren again. I am working hard (and slipping along the way) to make my way to heaven. It is a tough road, folks. I pray I can get there and be with her one day. 

So for now, I will take it one day at a time, enjoy my freedom (from work responsibilities), learn to love my new home and cherish my time with family. 

I got carded this week

I got my Medicare card in the mail the other day. Me on Medicare. Now I’ve been talking about how happy I would be when I got on Medicare, because we’ve had a horrible “bridge” insurance policy since early retirement. It’s almost like you get punished for retiring early. Who can afford so-called “retiree medical” these days? Not us. 

Anyway, now that the card is here, I am facing the fact that I am almost 65 years old. I’m in pretty good health, and I try my hardest not to dwell on the fact that I am not “young” anymore. People always say, “well, you’re young at heart.” I don’t want to be young at heart. Because when I was, I was pretty silly and sometimes, I was quite frankly stupid when it came to decision making, and things of that nature. I think I have come to the conclusion that I am the age I am supposed to be. At least I tell myself that! 

Some days are better than others, when it comes to facing your age. It’s like the loss of a child in that respect. Some days are better than others. 

So now I will pick my “advantage” plan and rest in the fact that I can go to the doctor when I need to and not worry myself to death that we will have to spend a million dollars because we don’t have insurance. Doctor bills give me the frights. I just hate them. I think it is because they make me feel so out of control. 

Retirement is great, but it can make you feel uneasy at times. We are getting used to it, and learning to adjust day by day. 

It wasn’t so bad

Well, I made it through another Mother’s Day! It is unusually hard when Mother’s Day falls on May 9, like it did the day Lauren died. We went to mass on Saturday evening (May 8) and for some odd reason, that day was harder for me than Sunday turned out to be. We slept in on Sunday and made our way to Aaron’s house for lunch. I think being able to see my sweet son is balm for my soul. It is a tough day for the three of us, but when you combine it with Mother’s Day, it really makes it hard. 

Aaron is a great host. He made lunch for the ladies (me, mother-in-law, wife, sister-in-law and daughters) and his dad. We ate outside on the patio, and the weather was perfect. The girls were happy to give us their little hand-made cards, which are precious to their other Grandma and to me, their Mimi. 

After lunch, Aaron made strawberry shortcake and coffee. We opened gifts and they were some of the most precious things I have ever received! I got a Grandmother’s journal to fill out about me so that I can share it back with my girls when I am done. By the time I am finished, hopefully the girls will want to read it. My son gave be a beautiful card and a necklace with his and his sister’s first initials. I loved it. My husband gave me a bracelet that had a story. It talks about how going through a storm and coming out of the rain to some sunshine. That is a perfect thought of what the girls mean to us. They are sunshine after the storm of losing Lauren. We will always have memories and struggle with that storm and the damage it did to us, but we have the sunshine now to brighten our days. 

My daughter-in-law and her mother are two ladies that I am so happy to have in my life. Her mother is a wonderful, Godly woman who has raised two beautiful and talented daughters. I’m thankful that Aaron married into a strong, loving family. His in-laws are just great. We could not have asked for a better family for him to marry into. 

So here are a couple of pictures from a lovely day. 

It’s been awhile...

 Ok, it’s been awhile I know. I am still trying to adjust to retired life I think. Retiring and then moving into a new house and community six months later took a toll on my husband and me I think. Especially when we moved everything ourselves. We had a little help from our son and a couple of friends, but the majority of it was completed by two 60-somethings. Not an easy task, by a long shot. 

I keep doing this don’t I? I write a blog post, stay away a long time, come back and make an excuse as to why I stayed away so long. Even I can see the pattern! All I can say is, I’m working on it. No promises, though. 

Tomorrow is 17 years since our Lauren went home to be with the Lord. I am (once again) on the struggle bus as it were. I guess I am a permanent passenger by this time. Tomorrow we will go to mass and then to our son’s for Mother’s Day. To see him and our girls is all a want for Mother’s Day. I have to hold my head up and enjoy what I have in this world and that is my husband, son, daughter-in-law and grand daughters. And that is more than a lot of folks have, so I will most definitely be thankful. 

Last time I was with Rosemary, my six-year old, she just asked point blank what happened to Lauren. I told her as gently as I could, while reassuring her that dying at 18 was not the rule, but the exception to the rule. I think she was ok with that answer. I don’t want her to worry about that. She did ask me if I would still be her Mimi when I went to heaven. I said, “Of course. I will always be your Mimi and love you with all my heart.” She liked that, I think. She tells me, “I love you, Mimi” uncoerced these days. 

Vivian has a way of comforting you by giving you the best hug any four-year old can offer. She just hangs onto you and lays her sweet head on your shoulder. She doesn’t say a word, just hangs on quietly for a while. She is the best balm for a broken heart. 

We are so grateful to be able to see them more often, and not be so far away from them. We try to help with them as much as we can. Spending time with them means more to us than just about anything else. I know Lauren would be madly in love with them. 

So tomorrow I will concentrate on my family, remembering my Lauren in my heart as I do every day of my life. I’ll pray that when my days finally come to an end, she will be waiting for me. 

Another Christmas without you

Here we are in 2021 and things are still in an uproar in our country and our world. Covid, the election, and what people like to call “social” media, which usually is anything but “social” in my opinion, are the trademarks of the day. The last few days of 2020 were really no better than the first few days of 2021. Still crazy. The only bright spot for a lot of folks was the Christmas holiday, I think (I hope). 

For me, it was just another Christmas without you here. It was our first Christmas in our new home. I had to completely rethink how I would use my Christmas decorations. It was stressful but fun. Downsizing puts a different spin on decorating. I was used to decorating an almost 3,000 sq.ft. home for 23 years, and here was with a closet full of decorations in a 1950 sq. ft.home. It was a challenge, and there were a few things I had to do without. 

The bright spot was being able to have the family come up on Christmas Eve Day to celebrate. The girls were in awe of the little Christmas tree in their room and even helped me take it down when they came to spend the night after New Year’s. Seeing them look at each little decoration and ask questions about where we got them was really wonderful. They loved their daddy’s and Aunt Lauren’s childhood decorations. They love learning things about their dad’s and Lauren’s childhoods. 

After Christmas, we did have my brother and sister-in-law visiting for a few days. It really was wonderful for us. 

Like I have said before, I can be in a stadium with 60,000 other people watching a ball game, and I know that Lauren is not there. I am never complete no matter where I am or what I am doing. I always feel the loss and I know after almost 17 years that I always will. Every holiday is bittersweet. I am so thankful for the blessing of being Mimi to two special little girls who help to fill that void. 

My Joel

 Sept. 25, 2020: 

You left us today. I suspected you would, but I still wasn’t ready. I am still processing a world without you in it. My world has a little less light in it. You have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I don’t remember a world without you in it. My pre-Joel days just don’t exist. Your family was my family too, even though there was no blood shared (unless you count the blood of Christ). 

You and I were the third generation of Morris-Kerr friends. Your grandpa and my daddy; your dad and my brother and you and me. Last night, your sweet wife Pam messaged me that my son had sent your daughter a note to express his sorrow and love in your loss. That makes four generations, and I know you love that as much as I do. 

Where to begin, my friend? You and I were the best of friends growing up. I remember going to your house “in town” to play with you and Tammie and Eric. I was at Daddy’s gas station and I’d walk down the overhead bridge to your house for play time. We were little then. When y’all moved to the farm, I was so sad. I went to the high school and you were still at the grammar school. We met again in Music Appreciation class. Fitting place to reconnect, I think. 

Our high school crew could not have been closer. You, me, Rhonda and Donna sitting on the lawn, laughing and having a ball. Rhonda got married after high school, so you and Donna and I hung out when I was home in the summers from college. Riding all over the place in her white Camaro with ELO blasting. 

We drove my poor daddy crazy staying up all night playing “Aggravation,”  and singing gospel songs while you played the piano like a champ (oh, how I wish I had half your talent). Your poor mama (I loved her so) would fuss at us, because people in town might recognize that your car was at my house overnight! The problem was, we didn’t care. How many nights did we drive to any open convenience store to find a box of Banquet chicken that we could cook at 2 a.m.? Making biscuits and cooking chicken. We’d send your mama and daddy on a “date” and drag my daddy out to the farm to eat with your grandpa, Grayson, Tammie, Eric and us after we’d cooked up a storm. Course the biscuits for those meals had been made by the greatest biscuit maker of all time: your mother. 

My parents loved you and your parents loved me. Time moved on and I got married to my Richard, who learned to love you like a brother, as you did him. My kids loved their “Uncle Joel.”

Then you met your sweet Pam. I knew the moment I met her, she was perfect for you. I learned to love her and your Katie stole my heart the first time I held her in my arms as a tiny baby. 

There were periods of time (because of distance) that we did not see each other, but I always knew you were there. I’d think of you and you’d call me out of the blue. You’d be thinking of me, and I would text you. We got together as often as we could when I was home, but many times you’d tell me you just didn’t feel well enough. 

You are the greatest miracle I have ever known. You are proof that God is in control. You were dealt a terrible hand with your physical afflictions that would have taken many people down a long time ago, yet you persevered as best you could. God blessed you with tremendous talent and you gave that talent back through music for as long as you were able. You shared so much of yourself with others and anyone who met you was blessed. I know yesterday the first thing you heard was “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” 

I prayed a novena of healing for you, asking for the intercession of Pope St. John Paul II. The first eight days, I prayed it before bed. On Sept. 24, I was led and prayed it in the middle of the day. I believe that was the day that you were taken off the vent and were able to acknowledge Pam and Katie that last time. I hope so. I hope God heard me and John Paul, who suffered terribly toward the end of his life, interceded for you. God did answer my prayer because you are healed. You are there with our loved ones now. I know that my Lauren was there to greet you with your parents, my parents, my brothers and my nephew Keith. So many were happy to see you, and you are well and restored in your new body now. 

You were my brother in Christ and my lifelong friend. You took me to the prom, you loved my children like they were your own. You cried with me when we lost our Lauren. You always made me laugh. We shared jokes and food and thoughts and prayers. You are in my heart and I know one day, I will see you again. Rest In Peace my sweet friend. My life has been blessed by you. Always, your coo. 

Navigating the Co-Vid Blues

When we moved to our new home in January, we never expected a pandemic to hit. We were looking forward to engaging in some activities at our new church and getting acclimated to our new town.

When the “shutdown” happened, we were thrown for a loop. We didn’t like not being able to go to mass and having to watch online. We longed to be able to receive the Eucharist in person. I will admit, I cried the first few times we watched online. When we were finally able to go back on Mother’s Day (which I considered a gift from Lauren) I didn’t care that we were outside and wearing a mask. As a matter of fact, masks don’t really bother me at all. We have been able to go to mass since then, and mask or no mask, nothing has made me happier.

It has been a heartbreaking experience for us, our kids who are trying to navigate working from home with the girls, and for our whole country. I hate seeing how all the small businesses have been affected, how people have lost their livelihoods and how much depression and suicide have escalated... I can’t stand how divided our country has become.

We have had some blessed moments. We had our Mother’s Day celebration at the kids’ house and it was wonderful. Vivian did her dance recital piece for the family and it was precious. We have had the kids a couple of days now to help out their parents, and that makes us happy. We want to be part of their young lives, and moving closer is really paying off. We had a get together for my daughter -in-law’s family that was a wonderful success.

In early July, around the time of our 38th wedding anniversary, we were able to take a trip to Florida with our kids. It was a great and much needed trip! So while having to miss Aunt Mary’s 90th birthday in Las Vegas in May was terrible, the trip with the kids was good.

We had my brother and sister in-law visiting us and my other sister in law came over too!

We are just trying to navigate the Co-Vid blues, just like everyone else.

Tomorrow is another day (and year)

Well, tomorrow marks 16 years since our beautiful Lauren went home. I miss her every moment of every day. It is not easy and it never will be, I am sure.

Last week, after we cleaned out our attic in our old home, so that the new tenants could move in, I went through and washed all of my kids' baby clothes so I could repack them. I got through that ok, but it is really hard to believe Lauren will be 35 this year. I wonder what type of woman my little girl would have turned out to be.

I am fairly certain, based on the fine man, husband and father that my son has become, she would be a valuable asset to our family and to society. She was a wonderful girl.

We were blessed with two of the best children anyone could ask for. They were the biggest blessings we ever had and now we just cherish the two grandchildren God has blessed us with.

Thank you Lord for our many blessings. Thank you for allowing us to be a part of these children's lives. Help us to be a positive, loving presence in our son, daughter-in-law and granddaughters’  lives. Amen