A Day of Reflection

The greatest joys and accomplishments of my life!

It was sixteen years ago today that I told my husband goodbye as he left for what was supposed to be a four-day fishing trip with some clients. Over twenty-four hours later, I learned I was a widow, had lost my father in law at the same time, and had no body to recover and bury.

I can't even verbalize what my life was like for the next nine or ten years. From the initial shock of losing my husband and his father to finally waking up one day a decade or so later and realizing I had made it through an unusually long dark period (and usually appearing as though I had it all together) ... well, I'm still amazed at the grace of God. I've had to go through so much healing and soul searching and forgiveness, primarily of myself.

Yes, I'll always have loss issues. One learns to deal with them, though.

It's hard to believe I was once a married woman. It was more than a lifetime ago, and I truly cannot recall what life was like when that was one of my roles. On Sunday, I went down a road I hadn't been down since a few months prior to my husband's death. We had taken the boys for a picnic, and driving back down this road--which was pure happenstance-- brought back some vivid memories.

I realize I have lived a good portion of my life on autopilot during these sixteen years. In the midst of past chaos, fulfilling jobs, and volunteer leadership, I have raised two fine young men. Again, this was done only by the grace of God (and I do mean this literally).

I read the following quote today: Though we cannot go back and make a brand new start, we can always begin today and make a brand new ending.

Here's the email I sent my sons this morning. It pretty much says it all:

Dear Jamie and Rhett,

Today marks 16 years since your dad and Pop were killed. In many ways it seems like another lifetime ago. I am grateful for the brief life we had together and for the two wonderful sons we brought into this world. I am sorry that I was so emotionally wrung out for what I now realize was years. I am thankful that God brought me through all that. I love you both very much, and I know your dad would be very proud of his sons!

Love,
Mom

The Hair Report

This is not a poster for Fright Night!


Rhett's hair is growing. A lot.

As many of you know, he's growing his hair in honor of--ahem-- his deployed brother. He says he'll cut his hair when Jamie is back from Iraq ... and next month's R and R break for Jamie doesn't count.

What happened to my clean cut boy?

Well, he does turn 20 in November, but he's still on my payroll, so to speak, and mom here is putting him through college. He's a man now, no longer a baby or a boy; and if mom here doesn't get into the longer hair ... oh, well ...

He asked yesterday if he could borrow one of my hair bands to keep his hair back while he's at the beach. I raised boys, so I'm not accustomed to their asking to borrow my accessories.

What can I say, though? He's probably going to end up with nearly a 3.9 GPA for this year. He has a great babysitting gig this summer for one of the program directors at his university. He's studying abroad next year. He keeps up with world events; and just yesterday he was complaining about how all the world knows who Susan Boyle is, but few know who was just elected as president of South Africa (Jacob Zuma, FYI). He has a humanitarian heart.

What can I say?

I'm proud of him ... messy hair and all.

Where Am I?

Another glass masterpiece by Dale Chihuly
Originally uploaded by CptCapacitor on flickr.com



Good question! I often don't know where I am ... especially these days.

There isn't much creativity being channeled (particularly in writing on this site), due to much time and energy spent here. Check out this site, and if you're in the Hampton Roads area of Virginia, please come visit.


www.artofglass2.com


Out to lunch ... and dinner .... and then some. I'll be back soon.

Easter 2009: The Memories, the Joy, the Hope

Okay, so I took the above photo at Christmas, but it does show the reason for Easter ... and it's not the Bunny!

What an absolutely beautiful day this Easter has been!

A rainy Saturday turned into a cloudless Easter Sunday, one that was filled with joy, memories, and--most importantly-- hope.

The memories:
* Walking through my small hometown in the early morning hours with the Moravian Church band playing Easter songs
* Eating breakfast a 5:30 a.m. on Easter morning, prepared by church folks, and attending the sunrise service
* Singing "Jesus Christ Has Risen Today" with joyous enthusiasm
* Dying eggs with my mother
* Dying eggs with my sons
* Hanging colorful plastic eggs on a tree in our yard
* Walking among the tombstones of loved ones and mentors who've passed to the next life and believing there is another life.
* Coming into the Catholic Church at age 36 during the Easter Vigil (when my older son made his First Communion)
* Savoring the rebirth of leaves and annuals and remembering there is the promise of new life in Easter


The joys:
* Attending mass with my younger son
* Being filled with nourishment as I partook of what I believe is the Body and Blood of Christ
* The Easter lilies, the bright yellow fabrics, and the flowing waters that welcomed me into the worship space at church today
* Singing "Jesus Christ is Risen Today" with joyous enthusiasm
* Sitting by the water right off the Chesapeake Bay having a fine meal and conversation with a small group of loved ones
* Hearing my granddaughter squeal with delight on the phone as she toted her Easter basket around the house
* Learning from my daughter in law that the church she attended today offered free brunch for families of deployed military personnel (I love military supporters, especially churches!)


The hope:
* Eternal life
* Seeing loved ones again after this life ends
* That I'm worthy in spite of my lack of faith and the wrongs I've committed
* The belief that there's so much more than this life, but acknowledging that this life counts
* That my son in Iraq was able to fully enjoy the mystery and promise of the day


And with the passing of another Lent, I had a slice of pizza last night. It was good, but I wasn't overly thrilled. I had one slice, skipped my roll at lunch today, and am devoting more money towards the food pantry at church (that feeds people who really have little or nothing to eat).

You Tube? Yes, I watched a couple of things this evening, but I don't care about that anymore either.

I'm joyful, I'm grateful, and ... I'm hopeful.

How to REALLY Party!

Happy Birthday, Little Girl!

My sweet Shelby Grace turned one year old today.

As I write this post, she's probably asleep at her Texas home while her mom is in class (graduate school), and her daddy is in Iraq.

My son emailed me this morning to tell me he felt "horrible" because he couldn't celebrate his daughter's special day with her.

When I look at this little girl, I am amazed that I have a granddaughter ... that I am a grandmother.

I often want to compensate for my years (and I do mean years) of living in that place called La La Land when you look like you have it all together, but you're living behind a complete facade. Now that I live in a place called reality, but a place that's filled with hope, I want to push the rewind button and go back and raise my sons all over again, this time fully engaged in the joys and moments.

Alas, one cannot go back, but you can vow to do things better.

I think I'm a good mom to my adult sons.

I hope I'm a great Gigi to Shelby.

And in less than a month, when I head out to visit her, we are going to have a PARTY!

As she continues to master her newfound gift of walking, I'll learn from her when she falls and gets back up.

Come to think of it, I've fallen and picked myself up a few times, so maybe we can learn from each other.

I can't wait.

The Return of Flour and Empathy for the Hungry

Originally uploaded by z_b on flickr.com

This time next week I can once again eat flour.

My Lenten fast will be over; and I can indulge in pizza, pasta, real bread with butter ... all those things I love.

You know what? I'm not overly excited.

In these past five weeks or so, I have erred only a very few times.

There was the Board meeting I attended where I scooped up a small handful of goldfish and realized what I had done after the tasty tidbits were swallowed. There was the business networking social where food choices were limited and I was starving, so I munched on two triangles of spanokopita with its phyllo pastry. There have also been some rare meals that have involved lightly breaded morsels, such as clams and okra. Oh, yes ... there was a luncheon at work that featured green salad, pasta salad, and wraps. I was famished and just couldn't digest (pardon the pun) eating only green salad, so I had servings of everything.

But that's it. Period.

I've eaten more beans and brown rice than I care to admit. There's been quite a bit of chicken; lots of salads; and lots of plain yogurt laced with honey, almonds, and apple chunks.

Truthfully? I feel better.

But during those starving periods when I've craved a slice of pizza or warm hot bread slathered in butter, I thought quite a bit about the majority of the world's people who have little to eat. How can I seriously complain about my lack of flour-based food when so many human beings would give their right arm for my supply of beans and rice?

After Good Friday, I may have a piece of bread or a slice of pizza, but I'll continue to think of the world's hungry people. This Lenten fast has made me very much aware of them. I'm sure I'll start making regular contributions to a worthy food ministry, such as Food for the Poor.

We're the most overweight nation on this planet. Maybe if people would nix the Twinkies and the worthless fast food, they'd be much healthier, happier, and more giving to those who need nourishment.

And it doesn't take a Lenten fast to do it.