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.

A thought for grieving parents as we approach Year 14

Our Lauren will be gone 14 years tomorrow. This time of year is tough for me. She was getting ready to graduate from high school in 2004, and had done all the work for college at Ole Miss. She was so excited to be over there with her brother. But that was not to be. The three of us, her dad, her brother and I suffered that loss together, and still to this day, the pain is always there in our family. We will go to our son's house this weekend and celebrate Mother's Day with our little grand daughters who never had the chance to meet their lovely aunt, but she will be present in my heart and in my thoughts, as she always is. 

The song, "I love you more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow" has been my theme song these past few days. 

Rest well, my sweet girl, and know that your mama remembers and loves you every minute of every day. 

The hope that we cling to

When First Lady Barbara Pierce Bush passed away, many of those who remembered this gracious lady were saddened for her husband and the rest of their big family. Mrs. Bush was a personal hero of mine. I admired her wittiness, her devotion to her family and her fierce support of her husband. She truly embodied what I always thought a wife and mother should be.

“Never lose sight of the fact that the most important yardstick of your success will be how you treat other people - your family, friends, and coworkers, and even strangers you meet along the way,” she once said. I fall short of this every day, but I try. I equate this with the kind of love we as Christians are supposed to exhibit. 

While Mrs. Bush could wax philosophical, she could also get straight to the point: “People who worry about their hair all the time, frankly, are boring.” A lady after my own heart. 

She and I had something in common that made me look up to her and I will venture to say to love her. She knew what it was to lose a child. She faced the same struggles that I and other grieving parents have faced. She never forgot her Robin- all of the fame, fortune and political success could not change the love she had for her little girl and the grief that she lived with from that loss. 

A wonderful cartoonist here in Mississippi, Marshall Ramsey, has captured the hope that we as grieving parents feel - the hope that we will be reunited with our beloved children. I have had the honor to meet Marshall and to hear him speak at a couple of events I have been at. He has a penchant for getting to the heart of the matter. His cartoons capture things right where they are. 

This particular cartoon has gone viral, and even members of Mrs. Bush’s family have seen it and commented on it, thanks to social media. So kudos to you, Marshall! And thank you. 

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.

Mini-pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament

Last week, my husband Richard and I went to a place I have wanted to go to for years. The Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Hanceville, Alabama is a beautiful place that was built by Mother Angelica (founder of EWTN) and is located next to the Monastery of the Poor Clare Nuns of Perpetual Adoration. If you can, look up the website or Facebook page. Richard and I had a wonderful and peaceful time at this lovely place. 
There is a wonderful gift shop, and a lovely chapel called the "Creche" that tells the story of the Nativity. 

You forget you are in Alabama, or even in the U.S. It really made Richard and me want to go back to Rome. 

What's in a name?

We just spent four days of my Spring Break in Birmingham with my son and his family.

One of their favorite things is when we come to daycare to pick them up. They will run across the room to greet us when they notice we are there, looks of pure joy on their faces. It is one of our favorite moments, too.

We took care of the little girls on Thursday, and had the joy of taking Rosemary to her little dance class.

Friday, Grandpa and I went on a mini-pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Hanceville, Ala. (See post) We picked the girls up that evening from daycare, too. On Saturday, the whole family went to the Botanical Gardens for the Cherry Blossom Festival

Vivian, our 19-month-old, is taking in everything, and learning to communicate in her own little way. (This was always one of my most treasured times of my children's lives. I am enjoying this time in my grandchildren's lives too.)

When Rosie was about this age, her name for Grandpa was "GanCa." (the c is pronounced like k) She always lumped my husband and me into one name "MimiGanCa" or sometimes "GanCaMimi." (She occasionally still does that, even though she can clearly say "Grandpa" now.)

My daughter-in-law tells me she did the same thing with her other grandparents, too. Paul and Sharon ended up being "PawPawGramma" or "GrammaPawPaw."

And Rosie always said, "I hold you, Mimi"  when she wanted me to pick her up. She would make that request of whomever she wanted to hold her.  She still, at 3 years old, will use that terminology from time to time.

Vivan has not done either of those things yet. She has been saying "Mimi" for a few months now. She has given her grandpa his name as of this past week. He is "Pa-Ca." (the c is pronounced like k) She is such a loving little girl. She comes up to Pa-Ca and grabs him around the leg just to hug him. She calls me and holds up her little arms for me to take her. (Rosie did that too). Viv loves for you to hold her.

Our new names as grandparents (whatever they may be from time to time) are the best names that we could ever have. I told their mom that next to being a mother, being a grandmother is the best job I have ever had. Those two jobs are my most favorite jobs.

My big baby girl

President’s Day was a long weekend for us so we went to visit the grand babies and their parents. (You notice I am thinking more and more like a grandparent.)

Anyway, visiting with them always does our hearts good, and this time Rosemary (our 3 year old) was not feeling great, and was struggling with a little cold, but other than that, all was well.

I started to realize just how grown up Rosie is. I feel like sometimes I am a little behind in realizing how they are maturing. Vivian is in that stage where she loves to hang on to me. When we got to their day care, I waved at her through the window in the door, and she nearly broke her neck getting to me. She got in my arms, laid her little head on my shoulder and did not move all through us going to the gym where Rosie was playing, visiting Rosie’s class for a “tour” and getting to the car. She wasn’t asleep, she just wanted Mimi to hold her.

Rosie, on the other hand, is Miss Independent right now. I used to be sad that she didn’t ask to be held or come up and hug me all the time like she did when she was smaller, but once I relaxed, she came to me on her own time. She gave me a hug and kiss when we got there, but she is her own little person and likes to be independent. She is dressing herself, and putting on her own shoes. I am so proud of her.

Now if I am sitting on the couch, Rosie will come up and climb onto my lap while watching TV. She wants to be close to me I think, but when she wants to. I love that she is growing and maturing, but I will always miss her being my first grand baby.

She is so sweet, that when she brought down her own little dress up costume from her closet, she thought to bring one for her sister too. When they changed costumes the next day, Vivian ran out and got her own.

She really does show an incredible amount of patience with her baby sister  to only be 3 herself.

I’m going to do with these two what I TRIED to do with my own: Enjoy all of their phases!