May, 2013

Our first run ever.  

Mother's Day, 2013

She is the strongest lady I know.

Oh, and please ignore the fact that my thigh is twice as big as her's.  

I'm a little fragile these days. 

Thanks.

The Next Fashion Craze

G is dropping off a care package on his way in to work tomorrow morning.

She needs a shirt.  OK - so I made a few adjustments...

I think she'll approve.  (She taught me everything I know.)

Snooze Button

You know when you wake up from a nightmare and you're so relieved that it's only a dream?

Well, this ain't that folks.  

If you believe in the power of prayer and positive thought, we could use it 'round these parts.

As Karen Carpenter Once Said "(They Long To Be) Close To You"

They certainly can.
They certainly do.

They are certainly fine.
They are certainly perfectly content.

But if given the chance, they don't. They'd, simply, rather not.

They, if given the choice, would much rather be together.  As close together as possible.

We have told them since before they could understand all our words, "You are stuck with each other for at least eighteen years.  You can make it wonderful being together.  Or not. It's your choice.  We're just along for the ride." 

I think they have taken us very, very seriously.

When not in school, they are with each other ALL DAY. 
They eat, play, read, work, sleep together...twenty-four seven.

And still, when they go to bed, they talk, for minutes - sometimes hours - before falling asleep.

What in the WORLD is left to say?

It amazes me.

It always has.
It always will.

Legacy

I was asked to sing at a funeral this past weekend.

I was honored to have been asked.  While I don't know the family very well on a personal level, our families, it seems, have always known each other - through church, mutual friends, going through school together, just living in this town all our lives.   They are a family that I've always held in high esteem and I always will.

The funeral was filled with folks that are, to me, the foundation of this town.  They are the families that have been here for generations and, likely will be, for generations to come.  While everyone was so saddened by this sudden loss, there was a lot of comfort to see so many amazing folks gather together to show their respect, love and support of a family they hold so dear.

I was humbled to have even the littlest part in the day.

The brother of the gentleman who passed away spoke at his eulogy.  Four of his five children spoke as well.  They all spoke with an eloquence that can't be described.  (I've only heard such eloquence one other time when, in fact, listening to three friends give a eulogy for their dad a little over a year ago.  They sat in the front row on Saturday, providing comfort and love in a way only they can.  They are walking the walk now, without their dad.  They will, I know, be there for this family, however and whenever, needed.) 

As I sat and listened to these amazing words, I was in awe listening to the legacy this man has left.  Simply by doing nothing other than being himself.  He was an awesome (in the truest sense of the word) man:  husband, father, brother and friend.  I can't even begin to give you examples of what this man was.  What this man did.  I sat there and was honestly so sad for all the people in the church who will miss him every day.  He was, I know, an unbelievable human being.  Plain and simple.

It made me wonder what my legacy will be.  Now, I now that (I hope) I still have years to go before someone's reading my eulogy (God forbid) and I guess I don't need to panic (just yet), but really.  If I were to die to tomorrow, what would my legacy be?

I feel as if I'm just a converse-wearing knucklehead who gets through the day by making fun of herself, her children and her husband.  That won't make for much of a eulogy.  My legacy is weak, at best, at this point.

I guess I need to start working on building my legacy.  But you're not supposed to think about building a legacy.  You're supposed to just do it.  Just by being you.

Humph. I guess that's all I can do.  Just be me.  I just hope that's good enough...

The Ride

I remember very vividly the first time I rode my bike down Union Street, on my own, without my parents. 
I remember being so excited as I "raced" down (what seemed at the time) a monstrously dangerous hill, by myself. 
I remember feeling very grown up and free.

This weekend, down the Cape (or "on" Cape, as some say...this always makes me laugh...) we spent a lot of time on our bikes - G, H, M and me. 
I was nearly always "the caboose", with G, H and M taking turns in the front.  It sort of just happened this way.  It wasn't intentional, but this was a great vantage point for me.  I was able to spend a lot of time just looking and watching my family. 
I couldn't always hear what they were talking about but there was a lot of laughter, goofing around, smiles between the girls and their Daddio.  I loved watching them - for hours.

You can't script those moments.  But they are ones that I cherish.  I try to catch as many as I can.  I try to soak in every moment with this Four Family of mine.  I know they're still young and (even as they get older) we will still have these moments.  It's just that, I feel as if, in a blink,  they will be "riding on their own". 

I'm not sure if I'm ready for it. 

I clearly am feeling a bit overly sentimental...and I'm not even drinking any wine...

...maybe I should be...