A Special Prayer Request

Hello All...

It's been a while since I've posted anything on this blog and for the most part, it's been due to a very busy summer. A summer filled with home and yard work, parties, short trips and house guests. All pretty normal, generally happy things, right?

You know the old saying, "It never rains, but it pours"??

Well, at the moment, I need... no, my family and I, need your prayers. And in all honesty, if you could spare a few good vibes and pass them along in our general direction, they'd be very much welcomed as well.

I know that we aren't the only people who have something difficult happening to them and one of the most important lessons I've learned in my 50 years on this planet, is to be truly grateful for the blessings that I do have, but at the moment, life is throwing us a bucket full of curve balls and they all seem to be flying across the plate at once.

On Thursday of last week, we received a call from Hubby's brother saying that their uncle, who has been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's Disease, is missing. The last time that anyone saw him was on Saturday afternoon. On Monday, his empty, out of gas car, was found sitting on the side of a very rural and desolate highway in Pennsylvania, seven or eight hours North of his home. The local and state police have searched by ground and air and they have been doing everything in their power to find him, but as of this writing, we still have nothing.

On Friday morning, my sister-in-law's mother passed away, following a brief illness. My brother-in-law, sister in law, their three grown children and our daughter, will all be arriving from out of town, starting on Wednesday, for the calling hours and funeral on Thursday and Friday.  She lost her father at almost this same time last year and I think it's starting to really sink in for all of us, that we're at "that age" when the people we've relied on to guide and support us through our lives, are reaching the part of their lives, where their journey here on Earth is coming to a close. It's hard to lose the people that we love. And it's hard to come to grips with the realization that an entire generation is slipping away.

And as those of you who've known me for a while are aware, Hubby and I lost our precious younger daughter, when she was just a little one, from a fatal reaction to a routine medication. She was a miracle baby, who blessedly came into our life, after several years of believing that we wouldn't ever be able to have another child. Well, yesterday was her birthday. She would have been 12 years old.

Normally, at this time each year, I take a little time off from blogging, to reflect, remember and miss her in my own way. Not that we don't think of her and talk about her every single day... We do. She was and still is at the very core of our lives as a family and she'll never, ever be far from our hearts, or our memories. It's just that on days like her birthday or the anniversary of her passing, in order to be able to go on through the rest of the year with some semblance of normalcy, I need to be still and to heal. 

When you lose a child, I don't believe that you ever stop mourning for them. You pray and you move forward and do your best to live a life that has purpose and meaning, but that life is never quite the same again. I know that I'll have "these days" for the rest of my life, and that's OK. I gave myself permission a long time ago, to grieve in my own way and in my own time.

But, as you can see, we are in need of all of the prayer we can get at the moment.  So, if you could spare a moment, to say a few words of your own choosing, it would be more appreciated than you could ever know.

Thank you and God Bless you all, for being the most amazing, supportive community of  people, that I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Mary

A Gift Of The Heart

Howdy Everyone!

It's the new year and as most of us are fond of doing around this time, I've been reflecting on the past 12 months and pondering the year ahead.

But enough about reflection, for now. What I really wanted to do, was show you and tell you about the most special gift that I received this Christmas. Don't get me wrong...  I really love everything that I received, but there is one gift that stands out among the rest - and in the spirit of full disclosure, made me cry.  They were familiar tears, but more than anything else, they were a pure manifestation of the deepest love I have in my heart. A mother's love.  I honestly felt like my heart would bust wide open.

Our grown daughter is the light of our lives. She's beautiful and she's smart, but what makes her so incredibly special, is her heart. She possesses an infinite capacity for love, compassion and empathy. When she was just a tiny wisp of a girl, she would beg me to stop the car whenever we would pass someone along the street who was elderly or looked a bit disheveled. For some reason, she always assumed that these folks were all alone in the world and she insisted that we take them home with us, where they'd be safe and warm and we could take care of them. It usually took the rest of the day, to convince her that they'd be OK.

Although I thanked her later when she called on Christmas morning and even admitted that it made me cry, I don't know if she had any idea how deeply her gift impacted me. I won't go into all of the detail right now, but it's something she made for me as a kind of remembrance of her little sister, who we lost eleven years ago.

You see, her father and I spent an awful lot of time away from home during the time that our youngest was fighting for her life. We thought constantly about our first born during that time, but the hospital was over an hour away from our home and during the few hours a day that we weren't at the hospital, we pretty much moved in with a family member who lived close by, while she stayed with friends and family back home.

She was sixteen at the time and very much in her own world of hormones and teenage angst, and no matter how many times I asked if she wanted to talk about it with me or her dad, or anyone at all, the reply was always the same. "No, mom. I'm fine. I talk to my friends." We spoke on the phone every day that we couldn't spend with her and she came down with family members when she could, but it was incredibly hard on all of us. I can't even begin to tell you how it can tear you up inside when you are faced with spending all of your time and energy focusing on the needs of one of your children, while the other needs you just as much.

She still keeps her feelings very guarded. As much as I wish she would share her innermost thoughts with me, we all have our own way of coping and moving forward... and I respect that. What keeps me from worrying too much about her, is that I know that she always finds a way to express the things she feels. This time, it was through her beautiful handmade gift.

When I unwrapped the package, the first thing that I saw were the blue letters, printed in her own hand. As I tore the paper away further, I saw one and then another brightly colored leaf, lovingly and carefully applied to the branches of the tree. I knew the words without looking at them. I'd read them, over and over again, day after day, night after night, sitting in a dimly lit hospital room.

But I still felt the need to read them out loud. So, I cleared my throat and began. I read the familiar words, as my husband sat and listened while I struggled to get the words out. Without lifting my head from the frame in my hands, I knew that his eyes were filling up with the same salty, stinging tears that were threatening to spill out of my own.

Like most parents, we always wondered if we were saying and doing the right things. Did we listen well enough or push hard enough when it mattered?  Should we have done things differently?  Did anything we said or did right, sink in when it was supposed to?

I have my answer when I see this beautiful child who is now an incredible young woman;  No, we may not have always done or said exactly the right thing. Yes, we've made our share of mistakes along the way. But we've loved our children with all that we have inside of us and we did the very best that we knew how to do.

And in this crazy, wild, sometimes heartbreaking ride called parenthood... that's enough.

I wish all of you a Happy, Healthy and Love Filled New Year