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

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. 

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. 

The good parts of May

It's May again, and we've made it past another Mother's Day and another anniversary of Lauren's passing. My husband and I were very busy last weekend, when all of that was happening, and I think that was probably a good thing for both of us.

My son was not able to bring his family home, but he called me on that day, just to check on me. He's really every mother's dream: he's a wonderful son to me, a great husband to my daughter-in-law and a caring and loving father to our little granddaughter.  He never forgets to check on me during this difficult time of year, and for that I am really grateful. 

On Friday, we were able to meet the wonderful young woman who received this year's Rotary scholarship named in Lauren's memory. Lauren received that same scholarship that year.

In January, I got asked to participate on the Main Street board, and one of our biggest events of the year is our Five Star City Fest. My husband and I both volunteered for the two-day event. I worked on the Promotions committee and he served as the emcee for the Friday night concert. I took photos for both days, and by the time it was over,  we were both worn out. Our dear friend Fr. David came on Friday night, to enjoy the evening with us and we ended the weekend with a wonderful Mother's Day mass and a FaceTime with our granddaughter later on Sunday evening.

Enjoying the Five Star City Fest with our friend David

The kids in our parish brought us flowers for Mother's Day.

I wonder sometimes what Lauren would think about how our lives have evolved since she passed away. Would she be happy? What would she be doing in her own life at almost 30 years old? The Five Star City Fest used to be known as Mayfair when it was a Saturday arts and crafts fair. That is the last thing Lauren and I did together, on the day before Mother's Day 11 years ago. It took me a few years to be able to go back, and now, walking through that park again, meeting and greeting friends serves to remind me of the good times I had when Lauren and I walked through that park that day. The pain is still there, but I'm able to focus on the good parts of that experience.

Time moves on and for my husband, son and me, every milestone and holiday is bittersweet, but we persevere through the grace of God, and the loving support of family and friends.

Our Lawrence

This past Thursday, my sister-in-law called to tell me that a sweet wonderful man from my home county had died. His name was Lawrence Price, and he was a part of our extended family. His daughter Angie married my nephew Keith probably around 1979. I got to know Lawrence and his wife Shirley and their two young sons when my nephew started dating Angie.

From the first day I met him, I loved him. You couldn't help but love him. He accepted my family as a part of his family straight off the bat.

Lawrence was one of those guys who, as Southerners like to say, "Never met a stranger." He always had a smile on his face and a story to tell.  As years went by, I realized that the light that shone from Lawrence was the light of Christ.

When Lauren was a baby, probably about a year old, she was what my husband liked to call, "mommified." She clung to me and really didn't want anybody to hold her except me, most of the time. Around that time, we took a family vacation to visit my family in South Carolina. During that visit, Lawrence and family came to a family dinner and a miracle happened! My shy baby girl, who would never go to a stranger let Lawrence not only hold her, he carried her around all over my nephew's yard, talking gently to her and making her giggle. She loved him for the rest of her life.

Over the years, she would go straight to him and give him a big hug. He was devastated when she died. The other night, I thought how sweet it must have been when she saw him again.

Lawrence stood strong as a rock through the deaths of my nephew and many other family members. He coached at least 3 generations of Dixie Youth baseball in my home county. He worked as a prison guard for many years, and was even loved by the inmates he served there, primarily because he treated them with respect. He loved the Carolina Gamecocks, so much so, that you rarely ever saw him without a USC hat or shirt on. He served his church faithfully, and loved his wife, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren fiercely.

Saturday morning, I listened to a streaming broadcast of my hometown radio station. They were playing a tribute to Lawrence. I learned a lot about a man I had known for years. I learned that practically everybody in my home county knew him and loved him. I found out that he was a regular on the station's SportsTalk show, and that he had never coached a championship team, but he had coached an All-Star team and that he was in the Dixie Youth (I think) Hall of Fame.
When they signed off, they played the Gamecock Fight song. Perfect.

I talked to Angie the other night after I heard the news. I said to her that there was no telling how many people's lives her dad had touched. I saw a quote from Jack Kerouac that reminds me of Lawrence: "Be in love with your life. Every minute of it." He did, and all who knew him are better because of it.

Lawrence Price

She's back!

Well, here I am again, apologizing for not blogging. I keep stopping and starting and then stopping and starting again. But I keep trying, and I am trying again.

So it says in Proverbs 13:4, "The appetite of the sluggard craves but has nothing, but the appetite of the diligent is amply satisfied."  (I hope they aren't talking about food, what with all the New Year's Resolutions flying about.)

I think it really applies to me and my blog, though. I tell myself all the time I need to write, and then I don't so what do I have to show for it? NOTHING. Then I sit down and get "diligent" about it and I have something that makes (at least) me happy. It's therapeutic to me, and I refuse to do it from time to time. I'm not making any promises, but I do have a heart to try.

Our fall this year was super busy. We have season tickets at Ole Miss and tailgate with our friends every game. We've been doing that for years. After working all week, we cook for Saturday games on Friday night. We were not among the lucky ones who got parking on campus this year, so that meant we had to get there super early to park in Oxford as close as we could. Then we had to "drag" all our stuff to the Grove. This year, some lovely people decided to steal our tent and all our chairs. I hope they are enjoying the tent my husband and our friend David had to fix with duct tape.

This football season, we had a lot of fun taking David to his first Ole Miss game for his 40th birthday. He had a blast and seeing him happy made me happy! He is going to an Ole Miss basketball game with us in January. We will have a great time, I know.

I also got the chance of a lifetime at one of our games. I met one of my personal heroes, Lino Rulli (The Catholic Guy). He and his college buddies pick one college game to go to each year, and this year he chose Ole Miss.  I've been listening to him every day for almost 5 years on SiriusXM's Catholic Channel.

I can say with complete honesty that I have learned more about my faith from this crazy guy from Minnesota than I learned in the first 25 years I have been in the Church. It's ridiculous I know, but it's true. (He does have a Master's in Theology). He has three Emmys and several other awards to his credit, and delights in making fun of the size of his own nose, and his own shortcomings. He is charming and genuine in person, and to spend a few minutes with him made me so happy!

We ran full steam at work from September to December with football games, concerts, a play, a two scholarship receptions, homecoming and just everyday campus events to cover.

I am playing at mass again so throw in Advent, Holy Days, Guadalupe (had to learn 4 songs in Spanish) and Christmas and you've got one tired girl.

So I am not making excuses for not writing, because there is no real excuse. I am endeavoring to do better in 2014. I don't like to make resolutions, I like to try each day to reach the goals I have set for myself, and that's what I intend to do this year. Just try to do the things I think God wants me to do.

My friend David and me in the tent before the game.

After emailing all day, Lino and I met in front of the Union.

Reflections on Rome (1 year later) and other things...

Wow. It's hard for me to believe it has been a whole year since my husband and I spent our anniversary in Rome. I still look longingly at our pictures and wish I was back there again. I do vow to go back one day, and he has come to grips with that I think.

I don't know exactly what happened to me when I was there, but I grew so much in my faith in the months leading up to the trip and since then, I don't quite know how to explain it. Now that is not to say I am anywhere NEAR where I really need to be faith-wise. Far from it. But I think learning about the travels of the apostles and the early Christians there in Rome and then going to the places St. Peter and St. Paul walked and where they lost their lives for the faith really left a profound impression on my soul.

I have busied myself since my trip watching every documentary and movie I can get my hands on about the apostles and the saints. I love the stories and have really enjoyed learning as much as I can. That is a never-ending process, however, I have discovered. I think I have exhausted Netflix and I'm going to have to look elsewhere for some more. I really would like to learn more about St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, and a plethora of the other saints I have not yet studied.

I haven't written in a while, so I really feel like I should talk about the other things that have been going on. Last I wrote, I was talking about Eric, who we lost in a horrible accident at the end of July. It really affected our little town and the people who loved him.

About a week after Eric died and was buried, I went to the cemetery to visit Lauren's resting place, as I do about twice or three times a month. I usually place purple and lavender flowers on her gravesite in August, in honor of her brother and sister-in-law. They had those colors in their wedding two years ago, and I did that then. Aaron and Anna seemed to like that idea, so a little tradition was born.

Anyway, I knew Eric was buried in the same graveyard, and I had heard that he was close to Lauren, but when I got there I discovered he is literally next to our family plots. I saw his wife Angie and daughter Christie a few weeks later and when I remarked on that, Christie smiled and said, "We chose that spot to be close to Lauren on purpose." Wow. That really blew me away. I visit him and my sweet little friend Hanna's baby son Hayden, who is also nearby, every time I am there. I know that those families visit Lauren too. It does me good to know that for some reason.

I had the opportunity in August to share with the Northwest Foundation board about Lauren's scholarship. One of Lauren's favorite teachers and her principal are both members of the board. I was thrilled to talk to them and tell her story to those who did not know her, and just to let them know, from the donor's standpoint, how much those scholarships mean to us. It was a great honor to be asked to do that. Our foundation does such great work and to be able to help a student in our daughter's name is very healing for us.

It is time for our scholarship ceremony and reception next Monday. We have a wonderful young man, Michael Wooten, as our recipient this year. He is a drummer who is studying Automotive Technology at the college. He was so happy to get the scholarship. I met him the day he got it and he told me he had seen Lauren's picture in the band room at school. He is really a snare drummer, and when they told him they needed him to play bass drum instead, he was happy to do so. Great kid. So we'll sit with him and get to know him, and tell him what a wonderful girl our Lauren was.

Michael and me at the band's debut "on the lawn" this August. 

In memory of Eric Lentz

Today, we lost a great guy in our small town. He was on his way home on his motorcycle, and there was an accident.

Eric had worked as a highway patrolman for many years. A few years back, he had worked for the Mississippi Bureau of Narcotics, and had done his part to get drugs off the streets.

He was one of those guys you never forgot after you once met him. He was from New York, and had that "Brooklyn" accent.  Sometimes he used colorful language that would make my face turn red, but he always made me laugh. He was a real character. Once you got to know him, you looked forward to hearing what he might say next.

Eric loved women. Simple as that. He appreciated women. He made you feel like you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He just had that way about him. But you always knew that there were two women he truly loved: his lovely wife Angie and his precious daughter Christie. Those were the most important women in his life, and he cherished both of them.

We were both regular blood donors and used to run into each other at the local blood bank, which is no longer here. Eric would come in and as I like to say, "hold court" in there till he had us all in stitches. Everybody loved it when he was there.

He was serious about his work with the bureau of narcotics. He and I worked together on an article on the growing problem of crystal meth in our area. He was very proud to have contributed to that article, hoping to make people aware of this terrible problem. I believe he wanted to do his part to stop the madness he saw, to make the streets safer for his children and for all of our children. He worked undercover for a while, and even changed his appearance somewhat. I teased him that the minute he opened his mouth, anyone would know he wasn't "from around these parts."

He was proud of his beautiful son, Tony. I said he was Eric's "mini-me." I think as we watch Tony grow, that prediction will come true. You could see how much the two of them loved each other.

Eric was a true friend. He never said much to me when I lost Lauren, probably because it was too painful for him. He loved his children and was a wonderful father. I think he imagined what I might be feeling as a parent. He would just give me a hug, or text me and say hi.

I have seen him over the years from time to time in WalMart, at church, at high school foottball games and around town. My husband and I ran into him about two weeks ago in WalMart. He greeted me as he always did, with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. We had a great talk, as we always did.

I am praying for Angie, Christie and Tony today, and will continue to pray for them and for all of their family. I am also praying for the young man who was in the other vehicle, too. This tragedy has touched many people in our small town. The people here will embrace these families and comfort them the way they did for us when we lost our daughter. That's what the people here do.

I'll miss you, Eric. I pray Lauren was there to greet you and thank you for being a good friend to her mom. You were a special person. You showed through your life what a man should be - strong, courageous, loving and caring toward others. You were a role model for how a husband should love his wife and how a father should love his children.

I'll always remember you.

"Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen."