Valleys and Mountains

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters. 

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death;

I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

These words are spoken at nearly every funeral service I've been to, in one form or another.  These words are meant to be a source of comfort to those who have lost their loved one.  And for some people, maybe even most, they are.  

We are meant to take solace from these words telling us someone that we love is no longer hurting or in pain. They have been freed from all the terrible things that walking in this human life can bring.  Like Cancer.  Cancer is a wretched, slithering beast that sneaks into our lives and changes us forever in ways we cannot begin to fathom.  Even stories of triumph and victory slaying the beast leave behind the seed of sorrow and trepidation that makes visions of the future hazy, blurred and uncertain.  Cancer is indiscriminate and despicable.  It has no care or thought that the host it has chosen is a Mother, a Father, a Brother or Sister.  It can invade quickly and for a short time, or linger in it's reluctance to surrender.  But I know one thing about Cancer- it has stolen too much from me and mine.

One of my oldest and best friends lost her brother to Cancer this morning.  So while comfort is to be had from knowing that he is no longer suffering, Cancer leaves those who are left behind to bear the massive burden of anguish, sorrow and loss. What about us? The ones left behind? I tried to think of words of comfort for them, but while I still struggle under the weight of my own grief, I cannot.  There are no words.  But I know. I know how heavy your burden is and although mine is great, it has become lighter with time.  So I will take your burden as well, if you let me.  I would take the weight of grief onto my shoulder for all those that I love, it it were only possible, as I know they would do the same for me.

While we shall all walk in the valley in the shadow of death, it is okay to be afraid and to be angry.  You just have to hold out your hand and someone will be there to take it and walk with you to the mountain top.

Be at peace Patrick.

Summer, A Visual Definition

Photo and Responsibility for Creating these Handsome Creatures Credit: Paula

(and Tony, too)

Hot Summer Nights... ♪ and my radio ♪

I am sitting on my deck in my Old Lady rocking chair, (a birthday gift from my handsome husband), and enjoying the beautiful, breezy, seemingly stink bug free evening.  Life has become a smudgy, blurred passage of time for me lately, busy avoiding things I should be doing and putting off things until I find myself a rushing, manic, panicking hot mess.  Gearing up to expend the effort to piece together some semblance of organized normalcy, I have granted myself permission to enjoy this gorgeous weather and reflect on some things that make me happy about Summer. So here's my list, in no particular order, including but not limited to...

• Cookouts
• The smell of Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil
• Longer days
• Earlier sunrises
• Spontaneous ice cream runs to Hoffmans
• Relaxed bedtime for Mac so she can hang out with us longer
• Holiday weekends at the cabin with the family
• Anything cooked on the grill
• Driving with the windows down
• Driving with the radio as loud as it will get
• The way the tree in my yard hugs the deck and gives us privacy from the road
• The way aforementioned tree gives shade to the deck
• Drinking coffee early in the morning outside
• Taking the dog bye bye for a ride in Mommy's car
• Beautiful outdoor weddings that remind you how sweet love is
• Strawberries, peaches and watermelon so ripe the juice runs down your hand and onto your arm
• Riding bikes with Mac
• Hanging by the pool with wonderful friends
• Easier commute in the morning
• Tiki torches
• Family birthdays
• Going to the race track
• Summer movie blockbusters (but not in 3D... makes me nauseous)
• How my sunglasses fog up when I leave work and step into the heat outside
• Birds singing
• Flip flops
• Pedicures and pretty toe polish colors
• S'mores

There is so much to love about this season!  Help me out... share a comment with what you love about Summer!

A Graduation, A Birthday, Some Tissues... Oh My!

Tomorrow marks two significant milestones for me. One is that I will witness my beautiful, sweet, brilliant, funny and genuinely remarkable baby girl "graduate" from elementary school.  The other is that tomorrow would have been my Father's 69th birthday.  Both bring me to tears just thinking about them.


I have attempted to prepare myself for these events, but even as I type this, I am reduced to a sniveling snotty mess.  I am not sure why the thought of my baby moving on to middle school has affected me so profoundly.  It is not solely because it means that she is growing up and there's not a danged thing I can do about it.  Don't get me wrong, that bothers me immensely, but that is not the only reason.  But the real reason seems intangible... inexplicable.  Is it because I know that there are challenges and difficultly on the horizon for her? That there are going to be lessons that she will need to learn that I simply cannot teach? Is it because I can no longer fix all the boo boos with a Mommy's kiss?  I do look forward to continuing to watch her grow and develop into a beautiful young woman.  I will always do the most that I can do to give her every opportunity and all the support that she needs to fulfill all of her limitless potential.  When you meet someone, get starry eyed, fall in love and decide to have a baby, no one tells you about this part of being a Mother.  Yes, midnight feedings are hard. Yes, changing diapers is hard.  But no one tells you how hard it is to suddenly turn around and be confronted with pomp and ceremonious proof that your little baby is growing up.

If my Father were here, he would most certainly be sitting with us tomorrow for this graduation from elementary school.  He would clap and smile and be just as proud as any Grandfather in that crowd could be.  And he would say that watching it would be a wonderful birthday present.  I miss him tremendously.  There is still a vast chasm of grief and sadness at his loss.  There are not many moments of the day that are not tinted with the color of that sorrow.  I wish that he were still here to celebrate his birthday.  I would make him fettuccine alfredo, Mom would make a cake, the kids would decorate it and light the candles.  He would blow them out and probably wish for something selfless and for his family.  We would stand in the car port and watch the babies run back and forth and remark at how amazing they are and he would scoop them each up and give them kisses and try to make them laugh.  And they would.  And I would give anything in the world to be able to hear that sound tomorrow.  Because birthdays around here are about family.  So tomorrow instead of all that, our family with gather in the chapel where Dad's ashes are kept safe and we will wish him a very, very Happy Birthday.

I will blow a candle out tomorrow in honor of my Dad's birthday and hope all his wishes for our family come true, starting with a certain baby girl's fifth grade graduation.

These Girls...

Smells and Sunsets

Yesterday on my drive home, I passed a landscape supply company and the earthy, rich smell of wood chips and mulch reminded me of Dad.  It was like a punch in the stomach and it took me the rest of my ride home to recover.

Then after dinner my daughter and I went for a bike ride on a path along a little stream not far from my house.  As I was pedaling on the footbridge that crosses the stream, I saw the sunset reflected on the water, and I knew that Dad was with me.

Happy Mother's Day

A Sonnet for My Incomparable Mother  I often contemplate my childhood, Mom.
I am a mother now, and so I know
Hard work is mixed together with the fun;
You learned that when you raised me long ago. I think of all the things you gave to me:
Sacrifice, devotion, love and tears,
Your heart, your mind, your energy and soul--
All these you spent on me throughout the years. You loved me with a never-failing love
You gave me strength and sweet security,
And then you did the hardest thing of all:
You let me separate and set me free. Every day, I try my best to be
A mother like the mom you were to me. By Joanna Fuchs

As I lounge in bed sipping coffee and nibbling breakfast pastries with my baby beside me, I am reflecting on Motherhood.  My Mother was the most incredible example for me.  She is patient, generous, loving, strong, capable, caring, and all the words in the world that equal the feeling you get from a warm hug from your Mom.  I love my Mother for all the gifts that she has given and all the lessons that she has taught me in my life.  I know that letting me live my life and make my own mistakes was so hard for her, but being the Mother that she is, she let me.  Then when it was time, she was always there to pick me up, dust me off and help me find the right way.  As a Mother now, I know that I have a lot of hard work ahead of me, but I am so thankful and grateful that I have my Mother beside me to help me along the way.

I love you, Mom.