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. 

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

Hard times are not forgotten...

It’s been a tough month so far. There have been wonderful things, and some not so easy things.

We celebrated Rosie’s 5th birthday this time. I am still in shock that she is already that big. We stayed with the kids for the birthday celebration, and when we are there, we sleep in Rosie’s room. That morning she popped up out of bed and said, “Mimi! It’s my birthday! I’m 5 years old!” She ran over to my bed and jumped in my arms to be held and cuddled. Those moments make life worth living.

We are getting ready to move closer to our kids, and I have been going through pictures again. I have a couple of picture projects brewing in this busy head of mine, and I know I will get them done as soon as it is possible. I found a picture of Lauren where she is wearing a beautiful red bow shaped like a rose in her hair. She and I both loved that bow so much.

I was cleaning out my nightstand and there it was... that beautiful bow. Seeing it in her hair on the photo and then seeing it in my hand was too much for me. Like I have described before, it is like being stabbed in the heart. I hurt all over and broke down crying. I know it is part of this whole process, but it does not make it any easier.

Sometimes I find myself saying things I should not say- something stupid or inappropriate for the situation I am in, and I just don’t know how it happens. I said something and immediately apologized and I think I was forgiven, but I couldn’t forgive myself so easily. I need to work on doing that better. In the scheme of things, it was just a stupid remark, but I hurt myself so deeply, because I felt so bad.

So I will concentrate on my sweet girl’s birthday, and how much I love them both. They are healing for me, as I have said before.

My sweet girls o their family birthday celebration. 

We love our big girl! 

Whew! We made it!

Well, another Christmas has come and gone and we made it through. That is 14 Christmases without Lauren, but the last seven have been better for us, since we gained a daughter-in-law and two granddaughters.

We made a trip to South Carolina and were happy to see and visit with our family and some dear friends. We really had a great time!

On the way back, stopped by the kids' house just in time to see our granddaughters playing with the gifts Santa had left for them and it was a wonderful time!

Our Christmas with the kids included a trip to our new trampoline park here in our hometown, where the girls had a ball. (I think their parents liked it pretty well too.)

For the last part of my time off, I decided to take on a project I had started and abandoned shortly after Lauren's death- I wanted to get our family photos organized. I am way behind in categorizing and putting them into albums, and that is one of my retirement "dream" projects-to get them into some semblance of order for my son and granddaughters to have in the future.

I had earlier abandoned this project because I think I started it too soon. It was extremely painful to look at photos of Lauren then, and it is not much easier now. I basically had to talk myself into it, and once I started, I was able to get through it. My husband, who recently retired, was with me this time, and we enjoyed looking at photos as I got them into their initial categories, so that I could put them into tubs, and later I will go back and really get them organized.

We laughed at a lot of the memories that came back, "marveled" over our hairstyles and clothes from the past, remembered family members who are no longer with us, paused over friends we have lost touch with and looked with wonder at our beautiful children as they grew and matured in these photos. I won't say there were not tears. There certainly were and I am sure there always will be.

I decided to share a few photos on this blog post. Looking forward to being able to share these photos with Rosemary and Vivian someday in the future.

I almost forgot what it was like to be a young mother.

One of my favorite photos of my Lauren and Aaron

Me at 16 practicing the piano at my childhood home.

My Rosie helping me sing "Silent Night" at mass this Christmas season. Behind
us is my son in the Communion line, getting a blessing for Vivian. 

I guess "Frank" and I were on a date back in the day. 

His loss, our loss

I did not know him very well, but Jason was one of those people who was bigger than life. His stature alone could have seemed imposing, yet he had an innocent quality about him that would make you stop and take notice.

I first encountered Jason when he taught English at a local high school and was named 'Teacher of the Month." I took his photo along with the students of the month for the local Rotary club.

Here was this tall guy with dark curly hair topped off by a black kippah (or yarmulke, if you like) – not a sight you usually see in a small Southern town.  I thought, "What an interesting young man! How in the world did an Orthodox Jew end up here?" (It's just the journalistic curiosity in me, I suppose.)

Of course, living in the "politically correct, everything can be offensive, so watch what you say" climate we currently abide in, I would never had asked him about his journey to Judaism.  Thinking back, I'll bet Jason would have shared it with me in the blink of an eye, though.

Jason came to our college to head up our Writing Center a couple of years later, and I can count on my hands the times I actually got to talk with him. When I did come into contact with him, I was impressed with his enthusiasm for the job he had taken on.  I sensed that he wanted to help students with navigating the world through the written word, and although I have only read one thing Jason actually wrote, I can guess he would have been good at it.

I took his photo at several events, and actually sat down at a table with a few other folks and had a nice discussion with him one day. The last photo I took of Jason was at a retirement reception for our Foundation director. Jason and a fellow instructor (who happens to be the minister of a local church) and I were making a joke about a Jew, a Catholic and a Baptist walking into a bar. Not so politically correct, but funny to us. Jason had a beautiful smile on his face that day.

He called me at 3 pm that last Friday to inquire about taking a photo at an event he was involved in for the Writing Center at a local church the next day.  None of our staff was available to  go that Saturday, so I did what I could to encourage him to just get someone to snap a photo with his phone. He seemed ok with that, and I told him I would see him Monday- he and I had an appointment for me to interview him about another project he was working on. I was really looking forward to talking with him one on one, and hopefully getting to know him a little better. I could see bright things for Jason, and I wanted to help him along the way if I could.

Jason passed away that evening at his home.  I have not been this devastated over something in a long time. I wish I could have had that time with him on Monday afternoon. I wish I could have gotten to know this interesting young man better. Fellow writers would have had a lot to talk about.

Rest in peace, Jason. You made a big impact on a lot of people.

A pot full of love

Mother’s Day has come and gone again. We did something a little different this year, and traveled to my son’s house. Our little grand daughter Rosemary had a couple of “programs” that we needed to be there for. Her T.O.T. (Teams of Tomorrow) ball demonstration was on Saturday. She was super cute doing her dribbling and bouncing, and was genuinely happy to get her little trophy.  Sunday, she sang at church with her little choir. Both times, she did great!

She was surrounded by family who love her. I couldn’t help but think how proud Lauren would have been to see Rosie up there, looking like her daddy and participating in these little events.

Both of our girls were precious and we are so blessed to have them in our lives. I pray for them every night and thank God for them every day.

We will plug along as best we can and make the best of the days we have with these girls. Here are some weekend memories and a sweet gift from my girls.

The things that are seemingly insignificant can be the worst

Last week, my husband and I went to buy a new washer and dryer, since our washer had gone kaput.

We were driving around and we drove by the  the Old Navy where Lauren had gone that last week. It was a weird thing. She had a little job and wanted to go and buy some things for the summer. I offered to go with her and she said that was ok, she just wanted to go alone. That hurt me a little then, because my girl was growing up, but if someone had shot me in the heart with an arrow the other day when I saw that Old Navy, it would not have hurt any less than the pain I felt right at that moment.

It's crazy how something that insignificant can tear your heart into, even after all these years. I feel like I keep repeating this over and over on this blog, but I feel like it is a way for people to understand the pain that losing your child can bring.

It is unlike any pain we might endure - labor pain, losing your parents and/or siblings, having a cut finger, having someone deceive you, losing in love... It seems none of that compares to this, in my mind.

It's a sharp pain, that causes you to double over, like your heart has broken literally. The tears jump to your eyes, and you cannot breathe. The worst part is, you know other people never understand it. They think you should be better by now. Not gonna happen, I guess.

What to do? I hang on to my faith for dear life. I try to keep my head up. I think of my son, daughter-in- law and my grandchildren, and how blessed I am to have them. I think of how I may be hurting my husband when I fall apart. I chastise myself for not being stronger. All of that happens in a matter of seconds.

It is coming on to May, and this year it will be 14 years. 14 years of pain. It is almost too hard to bear sometimes.

I will not give up, though. That pain means she is still in my heart and with me all the time.  I will embrace it, as surely as I would embrace her if she were here. I will love her dad and her brother and his family like she would have. I can do that for her, and for myself.

Another sweet gift

My daughter-in-law Anna is a very thoughtful young lady. She does a great job of including us (even though we are a little distance from them) in all of the girls' activities, etc.  We visit with each other as often as we can but, thank goodness for FaceTime and texts.

We are able to enjoy their little stages as if we lived next door. It means a lot to their Grandpa and me to be included in their lives. As I have stated in the past, these little girls are medicine to our hearts and salves to our souls. I just hope that I was half as good a daughter-in-law to my in-laws as Anna is turning out to be to us. She is a great wife to our son, and a wonderful mother to her girls. Motherhood has come quite naturally to Anna and she really loves it, I can tell.

In the past she has given us little homemade gifts from the girls. Those gifts mean more to me than she will ever know.  I have everything I could ever need materially speaking, and these little things are more precious to me than gold.

I don't think she is making a special effort in this because we lost Lauren, I just believe it is her own sweet nature. She has two wonderful parents and family who molded her into the great young woman she is today. But she is not insensitive to our loss; she has been a good listener to our son when he shares his grief with her, as she has with us. I truly believe Lauren would have loved her sister-in-law and her little nieces. I know she would be as proud of her brother and the great husband and father he has become as we are.

This year for Christmas, she gave us a wooden plaque from the girls that she painted and put the word "Love" on using the girls handprint and footprints. The "o" in love is made by Rosemary's little hand and the "v" is made, most appropriately I might add, by Vivian's little feet.

It hangs proudly in our den, where we spend most of our time. Thank you Anna for your lovely present and your lovely presence in our family.

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time

We just saw our kids off on their way back to Birmingham after a wonderful late Christmas celebration. We had our family celebration over the New Year's weekend, due to Christmas Day being on Monday this year. We decided to make our Christmas the long weekend.

The girls loved their bike and trike, and all the lovely little things they got. Anna gave us a little homemade gift: A wooden plaque that spells out the word "Love" with Rosie's hand print as the O and Vivian's feet prints as the "V." It is so precious! I am looking for a place to hang it up right now. She is such a thoughtful young woman, and makes those precious gifts that mean so much to me as their grandmother. My son truly lucked out when he found our Anna.

During mass this past Sunday, the girls wanted to be with Mimi and Grandpa, who just happen to be the church musicians. At one point, Vivian was very unhappy in her pew, and managed to climb on my lap while I was playing a song. She just sat there leaning her head on my shoulder, and I played on. Rosie went up with the other kids when Father Thi called them to the altar, and gave me the thumbs up to let me know she was ok. She ended up letting me hold her while we sang a song, so she helped us sing at the front of the church. I like that they are involved in the music. They both seem to be fascinated with my piano at home, so I hope they will follow in our footsteps and be singers and players.

We rang in the New Year with Aaron and Anna, and after lunch today, they packed up to go home. Rosie asked to "hold me" (for me to pick her up) and she said, "I'm going to miss you, Mimi!" If only she knew what she does for her Mimi's heart!

Here are some of our weekend pictures!

Even Christmas cards can be tough

I used to send a newsy Christmas card every year-full of all the things my kids were doing, and how busy our lives were. I think people enjoyed getting them, or at least I hope they did.

When we lost Lauren, I stopped doing that. I just couldn't do it anymore. I sent a card and tried to put a small note in it to people, but the wind had been knocked out of me, so I am sure my scrawly handwriting was probably not appreciated much.

Aaron grew up, and was gone and Richard and I had an empty nest. Not much to say in a quiet house sometimes. At least not many interesting things to say, in my mind.

I've come to grips with the newsletter thing now, but this year I decided to try something new. I got one of those pre-printed "photo" cards and Anna and Aaron were generous enough to let us put the grand babies on it. Now, over the years, friends and family have sent us pictures with their great-looking grandchildren, and I was always a bit envious, I must say.

So I decided to ask our kids if we could join in the fun. They said yes, so I found a design I liked with a religious theme, and set to work to get a photo of those two jewels. Over Thanksgiving, the girls dressed in the matching Christmas dresses we bought for them; we set them on our knees in front of our fireplace and Anna snapped a few good pics of us.

We are aware the dressing alike phase will pass quickly as they emerge into the little personalities they are destined to be, so we are enjoying this little phase, too. It did both of us good to think all the people on our Christmas card list will get a stunning photo of the girls and a pretty good photo of the old folks this year.

Rosie is getting to the age when Christmas is going to be fun again, and we can't wait to see how she enjoys all the little things about the season and what Santa gives her. We're excited about the gifts we have bought for both girls, and to see their little eyes light up gives me new hope.

For now, enjoy with us, these little blessings....

Happy Birthday, Lauren

Happy birthday, my sweet love. We miss you every day, but you are always in our hearts and on our minds. Our Lauren would be 32 today.

A house full of love

Thanksgiving has come and gone, but we had a wonderful week. Richard's brother and sister-in-law, niece and her husband and their little boy (age 20 months), his other daughter and our kids came to celebrate with us. We had a house full of people and a house full of love all week last week.

My sweet friend Michelle (who lives three doors from us) offered her house for the overflow of folks.   Cooking with my nieces and my sister-in-law was a lot of fun for me (I did what I could, as my sister-in-law is a wonderful cook and is in charge of the kitchen!) The guys were playing their guitars and singing and watching football together. It is the way it should be. Noise, mess and a lot of love.

The kids were running through the house and underfoot, but it was glorious.To see my Rosie and Vivian and their little cousin Hudson playing together and laughing did my whole heart good.

I can't help but wonder what Lauren would have thought about all of this. I am sure she would love every minute of seeing those babies, and would probably have had a couple of her own.

For us, everything we do is bittersweet. But instead of dwelling on that, we need to take the joy when we can get it, to be quite honest.

I am exhausted and my house is a mess, but I would not take one second back or have it any other way. I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

I remember one time Lauren was watching "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and she turned to me and said, "Mom, this is our family!" Well, all I can say is "You were right, baby girl."

A piercing of the heart

I don't understand how, but even after almost 14 years without Lauren, my heart is still an open wound. I talked about how having those granddaughters puts my heart back together, and it absolutely does. Have you ever broken a vase, and glued the parts back together? It is still not exactly right even if you can find all of the pieces and glue them back together carefully. It is still flawed.

I forget sometimes that it is actually still a flawed heart. I had to go to the bank a couple of weeks ago to get a document we needed for insurance. It was in our safe deposit box, so I went in on my lunch hour to grab it and go.

Looking through the box, I ran across Lauren's death certificate, right there among the other documents like our marriage certificate, the kids' birth certificates, etc. There it was. I resisted the temptation to read it front and back because I knew I would be ruined for the day, but just seeing the words "certificate of death" was enough to do the job. At that moment, I felt like someone had basically shot an arrow that went straight into my heart. I was angry with myself for feeling that way, but I just could not help it. It nearly made me double over in pain right there in the bank. Thank goodness you are left alone in that room to check your box. I think I probably looked like I was dying at that moment.

I stood there fighting back tears, feeling like my heart was literally broken again. I composed myself as best I could and after getting the document we needed, I went out into the bank lobby again, smiling and thanking the lady who had helped me. Once in the car, I cried for a few minutes and then went back to work, surprised at myself and how fragile I really am. I thought I was strong, but I guess I was fooling myself.

How after all these years, can this wound be that fresh? I just don't understand. That pain was as real as the day we lost her. It took me aback, and it has taken me a while to recover. I learned that I have to just realize that it is not going away. Ever. It is a part of me that is here to stay, until that day that I am no longer here to stay.

I have done a lot of thinking about it since then. I have been trying to lull myself into thinking that I could learn to live with my loss, but the truth is, I can't. I just have to take it day by day and deal with that heart piercing wound when it bursts open unexpectedly as it did that day.

November is a hard month, as it is Lauren's birthday and then you have Christmas coming soon. I will just have to soothe that wound with the salve that is given to me-my faith, my family and my friends.

 Blessed are they who mourn,  for they will be comforted. Comfort me, Lord.

Goodbye, Winter (finally)

I was so glad to say goodbye to winter this year. It seemed like it would never end... We never have more than one or two "weather" days where we have to close school. This year we had seven.

Our job in the Office of Communications is to make sure the information gets out to all faculty, staff and students  in a timely manner (really early in the morning!) and folks don't get out in the weather if they don't have to. I am the social media and news media back up. I was very fortunate that my two co-workers (the ones I am the back up for) were both always available.

When you have to make a decision to close a school, you really come under fire from some people. There are always those people who want to criticize the folks who make that decision, whether they think you did it too early, or too late or... whatever they can think of to criticize you for.  No matter how careful you are in your wording of the information, somebody always misunderstands. 

My VP and our Police Chief are the folks who lead the charge in that decision-making process, along with our president. These two men take their jobs seriously. They ride the roads to see if they are passable. They worry endlessly about the safety of their employees and their students. They make the best decisions they can.

We made it through that awful stretch and onto our Spring Break. For me it was a great time. I went to Birmingham to take care of my Rosie. She and I had a wonderful week together, playing and laughing. That bonding time was so precious to me. She lifts my spirits like no one else can! 

After a few days, we left on a trip to California for our niece's wedding. We had a great time seeing family and friends and reconnecting with folks we had not seen in a while. My husband and his brother Jim had been in a band when I first met them about 40 years ago. One of the guys who was in their band back then came out and the son of another came and the four of them played a few songs at the reception. It was magical. 

The wedding was a very special time for our family. My niece and nephew were supposed to be married last October and the wedding had to be postponed, as my new nephew got very sick. We were so thankful as a family, that the kids were able to make it through a tough time and are now on their honeymoon. 

We are very blessed as a family. To see my niece in her wedding dress so happy was such a blessing to me. 

Now the weather is getting warmer, and the trees and shrubs are blooming. So, goodbye winter. We know it's hard for you to go, but we will not miss you any more. 

Our newlyweds

Our son came to the wedding with us. 

Our house just a month ago

A little bit of springtime in my life. 

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

A picture is really worth a lot

The other night I found a picture of me as a baby. I am about 9 months old, sitting in a high chair in our kitchen. I have a somewhat perplexed look on my face, as babies often do. What caught my attention is the stove and something on the wall behind me. Memories of my mother cooking at that stove came flooding back as I looked at the photo.

I suddenly remembered the little wooden hanging shaped like a teapot that hung on the wall. It's funny what you forget when you leave home like I did at 17. All the little knick knacks that were in your parents' house don't seem that important until you see one of them and it triggers your memory. My brother gave me a picture that was in my parents' bedroom a while back, and it hangs in my laundry room now.

It makes me a little bit sad, because the house we grew up in left our family after our father passed away (it's a long story that I won't go into) and now it's been torn down.

I sent the photo to my son and daughter-in-law. They both loved seeing it, and my daughter-in-law even saw a little bit of our Rosie in that photo.

I wish I could take my Rosie to see where her Mimi grew up, but that house is gone now. They tore down my elementary school years ago, and even my high school was closed and the students sent to the county high school. Thankfully, my high school's buildings are being used by my hometown for other purposes.

I have decided to take the enormous project of cataloging our photos on again. I'm doing it for Rosie, her mom and dad and for her future siblings, if God blesses us in that way.

(I hope this time is not as tough as the last. I have finally gotten to the point where I can see pictures of Lauren without totally falling apart.)

So, when you look at photos of yourself when you were a kid, notice the other things around you in the room. Sometimes, it's good to remember.

Baby LaJuan

A perfect gift

Another football season has come and gone, we've gone through Advent and now Christmas and a New Year is upon us again. We are back at work and starting a new semester.  

A lot has happened since I last posted about the birth of our first grandchild, Rosemary. I had the opportunity to keep her for three days in November, and to spend a lot of time with her over the holidays. Christmas was so much fun! Her parents gave us a handmade gift of her footprint. It was the best gift we got! 

The joy she brings to us is indescribable. 

It is so interesting to me to see my child with his child. I have always known that Aaron was good with kids. He's always been like the Pied Piper when it comes to little kids. They love him, naturally. You can see how much Rosie loves him, even at her tender age of four months. She lights up with Daddy, and he can make her giggle. 

She looks up at her mom and dad with such wonder. My husband remarked that Rosie looks up at her mother the way her Daddy used to look up at me. I was really surprised that he said that. I think we take things like that for granted and don't really appreciate them until they are gone. Today, we are so fortunate to have digital cameras and camera phones that can record much more than in the days when I was a young mother.  

My son and his wife are learning and growing with their daughter every day. They have both "stepped up to the plate" and take really good care of her. We are so thankful that they are such good parents to our granddaughter. 

I saw a little poem that I think sums up my feelings for Rosemary: 

"A gift you are from heaven above, a perfect example of God's precious love."

(Thinking back, it sums up how I felt about my own children, too. I hope I appreciated it then, as much as I do now.) 

My favorite (so far) picture of Rosie and me.

Anticipation and sadness...

This past three weeks of summer have basically been horrible.  First, we lost Ellen, the mother of Dawn, one of my best friends. She had been very sick and in the end was in hospice care at home. My poor friend and her brother and other family put their lives on hold, but were blessed to be there when she passed away.

We went to her visitation on a Sunday, but on the Thursday evening before, my other best friend Michelle's  21-year-old son Christian and two his friends were hit by a drunk driver traveling on the wrong side of the interstate. The driver and the passenger (Christian) both suffered broken bones, but praise God they are on the mend. After some complications, he has recovered enough to eat solid foods again. Both he and one of the other girls, Maria, who was in the back seat, are members of our parish. The young lady in the back seat has been in an induced coma in ICU, and was finally moved to a step down.

Three days ago, my sweet friend Janet lost her mother. Her mom had broken her hip, but was doing better. She died peacefully in her apartment. Tonight, a week after Dawn's mom's visitation, we went back for Janet's mom.

Last week, one of my former students, a young man of 25, passed away. TJ was the kind of kid that lit up the room when he came through the door. He was like my Lauren in that respect. TJ loved journalism- like me, he had "newsprint" in his blood. He had worked for his father's cousin at his newspaper, and loved every minute of it. TJ served as the editor of our college newspaper, and the job he did was spectacular. Like me, he had faced the death of a loved one. His older sister Jessica, who was the same age as Lauren, died in a car accident right when TJ was finishing high school. TJ never got over her loss. He and I talked a lot about it, but I knew it tortured him.

He had a rough go of it, and I won't go into details, but he did come and see me about a month ago. We had a wonderful visit and he seemed very positive again. He asked me for a recommendation for a job he was seeking, and I was happy to help him.  We parted after a long talk and I never saw him again after that. When I learned of his death, I was heartbroken. For him, for his parents, for his little sister Chloe, and for myself. I have lost someone I truly loved, once again. I spent an hour with his parents and sister, the other day. We talked about TJ, and his mother told me that he loved me too. It gave me peace of mind, but my heart is still broken for these people who have lost two children they loved. I understand their pain, but could not imagine having to go through losing another child. I pray for them and ask God to comfort them and bring them peace.

The one bright spot in this summer is that we are weeks away from the birth of our granddaughter. We have learned since I wrote before that her name will be Rosemary Lauren. She will be called Rosie. I cannot wait to hold her in my arms. I know she will be precious, as all children are, and I will be proud to be her Mimi.

As I contemplate sweet Rosie, I miss my Lauren really badly. I know she would be so happy over this baby who bears her name. I believe in my heart, that Lauren knows all about her and loves her already.

Dear Lord, we ask you for a safe delivery for Rosemary, and for her parents. I pray for Dawn and Janet, and TJ's family in their grief. I pray for Michelle, as she faces this long journey of Christian's recovery and for Christian as he embarks on that journey back to health. I pray for Maria, for her healing and for her return to her family, and most especially to her young daughter. 
Lord, hear our prayers. Amen. 

Manic May

May was a crazy month this year. We observed the 10th anniversary of Lauren's death. There were reminders of our grief, fun times with family and friends, graduations, weddings, a conference and a trip to the beach. During all of the craziness, there was one evening that really touched me.

A young man in our parish is working on his Eagle Scout project, and he decided to refurbish our grotto. He enlisted the help of church members, his family and others to help in the project. He raised money for the project and the results were spectacular. 

Fr. Greg Schill, SCJ rededicated the grotto one lovely evening last month. For Catholics, the month of May is special. It is the month in which we honor the Blessed Mother. At the beginning of the month, the children crown our beautiful statue of Mary and we sing a song for her at each mass. 

I had the pleasure of photographing the rededication. One of the photos I took really touched me once I saw it. As we were getting ready for people to arrive, I was photographing the grotto and took this photo of Fr. Greg as he prepared himself for the service.

It seems as though the Blessed Mother is watching over him. I feel like she watches over us all. She knows my grief first hand, and I find great comfort in her example of humility and her willingness to be a servant. 

You can view the other photographs on our Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/StGregorySenatobia. It is in our photo albums.