The technical staff has been working overtime, I now have my own domain and this rambling blogger has been learning the ins and outs of wordpress. The end result?

WE'VE MOVED!

The blog can now be found at www.teishknits.com

It is still a work in progress, but with the help of my ever devoted technical staff (Aaron) it's coming together nicely!

Ever Thankful

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope that all of you will be spending it with people you love.

I've got two pans of rolls in the oven right now. One pan will be going to a friend's house with us tomorrow. The house is starting to smell really good!

When I was a kid, we always had Thanksgiving dinner here at the house that I live in now. I have wonderful memories of those moments. I even remember looking out the window to a pond covered with ice and snow on Thanksgiving Day! We used to have snow by then pretty much every year. Last year, when we moved in right after Thanksgiving, I had planned to begin that tradition again and have dinner here at my house. But I had not planned for Mom not being here to spend it with us. In truth, I just don't have the heart to spend the day here, in a house filled with memories… reminders of what was, but never will be again.

Thankfully, friends of ours invited us to Thanksgiving dinner at their house. I will be fortunate enough to spend the day with not only my husband and children, but also with friends who really are like family to me. I am actually looking forward to tomorrow. My biggest concern is how my three little kids will behave!

In spite of the fact that I'm sitting here in tears, I can still find so much to be thankful for.

I'm thankful for what I had. I'm thankful that I had her for as long as I did. I'm thankful that she was here to hold her three grandchildren the day that each of them was born. I'm thankful for the tears, because it means that there were far more wonderful memories.

I'm thankful for what I have. I have a husband whom I love so much. I have three precious little ones who give me many reasons to laugh. I have a sister who is closer to me than ever before. I'm thankful for the other family and friends who I've been blessed beyond belief with.

I'm thankful for what is to come. I don't know what is in store, but I do know that I will be given the strength to endure it. And I've read the end of the story. I know that my Redeemer lives. I know that He's preparing a place just for me. Could anything we suffer in this short life compare to what is waiting for those of us who follow Him? If that isn't a reason to be thankful, than I don't know what is!

I don't understand how joy and sorrow can co-exist, but I know that they do. One of the mysteries of grace I suppose.

Happy Doctor Who Day!

Today is Doctor Who's 46th anniversary. For those who don't know, it's a British science fiction show. I was introduced to it by my Dad.

I used to watch the Original Star Trek and Doctor Who with him. I grew to appreciate the shows in time, but mostly, I just wanted to spend time with my Dad. Those are some great memories. Just sitting on the couch with him watching the strange TV shows with terrible effects, but utterly intriguing storylines. Perhaps that in part is what inspired my facination with astronomy and space exploration.

I don't have anything profound to say today. But it was nice to remember some of the good memories that I have from my childhood.

Daybook for November 9th

Outside my window... turkeys yesterday, but none today.

I am thinking... worrying actually, about my test tomorrow.

I am thankful for... Camo's second birthday on Wednesday!

From the learning rooms... sorting out how to make this work when life gets in the way.

From the kitchen... Jello for supper!!!

I am wearing... jeans and a black cable sweater.

I am creating... finished Camo's birthday sweater and cast on a new sweater for me!

I am going... mad. The raving lunatic kind.

I am reading... I have too many books going at the moment.

I am hoping... that things come together for Camo's party on Thursday.

I am hearing... my kiddos discussing the alphabet over breakfast.

Around the house... the house has rather gotten away from me as of late.

One of my favorite things... my children's birthdays!

For more information about the daybook, please visit: http://thesimplewomansdaybook.blogspot.com/

Glimpse

The following entry is from my journal. I pour out myself onto paper through my pen. If it is rambling, I apologize. If it makes little sense, please bear with me. I've written much about hope and grief this year. I want to give you an honest glimpse into my journey. It's easy to write about hope, but so hard to hold on to it.

"Here I sit, LORD. Once again in the same place. Why do I return to this stronghold of darkness? Why do I allow this misery to consume me? Is it because this is familiar?

Oh God, this is not what I wanted! This is not what I planned! To be without her now, is too unfair. I didn't want this, not now. Not so soon. The time we had was too short. So many questions that I never asked. The hole left in my life is eclipsed only by the one in my heart. Like a piece of me is missing.

Holy One, my strength is gone. I fell to my knees, unable even to stand. Here I lay, in my very own Slough of Despond. Cold and alone. Crying out to You, because I HAVE NOT THE STRENGTH.

Savior, my faith has been tested. I believe, truly I do. My mind knows the truth and holds fast to it. But my heart hurts. My black heart selfishly refuses to accept Your will.

Creator, break my heart. Shatter it if need be. 'Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.' Mold my heart. Make it true. Purify it by fire. Let it long for You.

Great Physician, break me that I may be healed.

Prince of Peace, rule my heart. Guide it. Let in find peace only in You."

Legacy of Love

I was seated at the table, sipping a hot mug of tea and paging through Mom's quilting books for Christmas ideas. Lessons were finished, the boys were playing and Munchkin was drawing. It occurred to me that sitting at the table with my tea and quilting books, I was the picture of my Mother. She used to sit at her table with her cup of French vanilla coffee; looking through her books or magazines and finding more projects that she would like to do than she would ever have the time for! Sometimes I would sit with her, and we would both point out the prettiest quilts, or the one with colors that looked perfect for one of us. Those were good times. Nothing spectacular, just the ordinary. I find that is what I miss the most, the ordinary things. Things that I never thought to really appreciate until they were gone.

Mom taught me how to quilt. The first quilt I sewed was for her. Looking back I think how horribly ugly it was. The colors were just whatever I could find, and none of the seams were straight! My hand-quilting was even worse than it is today. (I know, that's REALLY hard to believe!) I quilted a heart in every block, because Mom always said that every quilt had to have at least one heart, since it's made with love. It was a truly awful quilt, but that didn't matter to her, she loved the fact that her daughter's first quilt had been made especially for her. Fortunately, my sewing skills have improved quite a bit since then due to the amount of practice I've had. But she was still better than me. Whenever I had something that just was not working out, I'd call her. Mom would know how to fix it, she always did. If she didn't know, she'd figure it out.

The old treadle sewing machine that Mom learned to sew on is still at the house. It belonged to her grandmother, and when it was passed on to her she treasured it, and the memories attached to it. I have my great-grandmother's treadle machine and Aaron's grandmother's treadle machine in my care. I seem to inherit these sorts of things, just like Mom did. I love the beautiful antique sewing machines, but even more, I love the memories, the legacy that they remind me of. I think of the strong, Godly women who passed on their skills and their passion for making something beautiful and useful to show their family how much they were loved.

I think that was the main reason that they sewed, quilted, knit, and cooked for all of us. Yes, they enjoyed the process, but they also saw it as a way to express their love for us. I'll never forget the mittens that great-Grammy Lila knit for each of us great-grandchildren each year at Christmas. I'll treasure the baby blanket that Lillian made for her great-granddaughter, and one day Munchkin can wrap her own babies in it. I smile at the piles of socks that we found, knit by great-Grandma Millie, who I never met, but I can see her love for her sons by the wool socks that she knit to keep them warm. Every night, I sleep under a quilt made my Mom and my sister. I sleep under an expression of love.

These women lived their faith. It was evident because they loved. They were loved by so many because of the love that they had for everyone. They knew what it meant to be loved of God, and because of that their compassion and love for others was remarkable. I aspire to their legacy in so many ways. I miss all of them, most of all, my Mom. She left me a legacy. A legacy of love that makes me miss her desperately, but also a legacy of faith that sustains me in my grief. I remember her trusting God, and asking Him for grace and strength. So, in this very small way, I can begin to follow in her footsteps.

Nervous Knitting

I fidget. A lot. That's one reason why I knit. My hands HAVE to have something to do. If I did not knit then I would drive everyone near me crazy by tapping my fingers or clicking a pen. Knitting is good for those of us who tend to be fidgety.

It's also good for those of us who are the nervous type. Like me. I'm knitting up hats for gifts right now and making excellent progress. When I'm nervous I knit faster.

What had brought about my case of nerves? I have an appointment with the dentist tomorrow afternoon. I'm a nervous wreck! I have not been to the dentist even once in the past 12 years. Yes, I know! I've just had other things to deal with than my teeth. Not to mention how freaked out I get at even the thought of dental work. I had three homebirths and yet the thought of a mere filling makes my knees wobble. Makes absolutely no sense, I realize this. I'm still nervous...

Do you suppose that I could knit while they fix my tooth?

Thanks Mom…

I woke at three AM this morning to words that make every parent want to hide their head under their pillow.

"Mommy, I got sick on my bed."

I got up, changed the sheets and got her settled back in bed with a bucket close by. She was sick again a few more times before morning, and each time I got up with her. I wondered how many times that Mom had gotten up with me in the middle of the night when I was sick. I can't even begin to count.

I never thanked her for that. It didn't occur to me. I know that I thanked her for many of the things that she had done for me, but not that. There are so many little sacrifices that a Mom makes, and we don't fully realize that until we have children of our own. I am just beginning to grasp what it meant for Mom to homeschool us. Did I ever thank her specifically for that? For making that choice and putting in all of the time and effort that it required? I honestly don't remember.

There are so many things now that I wish I could thank her for. So many sacrifices made for me. Did she know how grateful I was?

I said a lot of things to Mom. A lot of really important things. I thanked her for the big things. I told her that she was the most wonderful Mom that anyone could have. I said the most important things. Things like, "I love you." I don't have any big regrets, just little ones. Because I never thought to thank her for so many of the little things.

She knew that I love her, and I really hope that she also knew how truly grateful that I am, for everything…

Pumpkins, Peace and Praise

Is there anything that says autumn like a pumpkin? Aaron's parents brought out some pumpkins for the kiddos yesterday. Munchkin LOVES pumpkins! She agreed to let me cook one of them so that we could make a pie. I found a recipe for a Pumpkin Maple Pie that just looked too good to pass up! I baked the pumpkin and pureed it last night, but didn't mix up the pie until this morning. I used my grandmother's secret pie crust recipe. (Pillsbury ready-made pie crusts!) It's in the oven right now, and smells wonderful! I'll try to wait until Aaron gets home tonight before I have a piece, I'll try anyway…

Mr. Q has been glued to the window in the living room this morning. They are replacing culverts in the road across the street from our house. A dump truck and excavator are just too much for any little boy to resist! They were so alluring that when I set Camo in his high chair and doled out his cereal, I heard a little voice calling to me from the next room, "I'm not hungry Mommy." This is utterly unheard of. That boy is ALWAYS hungry. I took in a cup of dry cereal and asked if he would like something to snack on while he watched the tractor. He readily agreed! He stayed there for nearly two hours, content to watch the construction. It was really an adorable picture.

It was the type of thing that would make me call Mom and say, "You will never guess what your grandson is doing!" I'd have related the story to her and we would have both laughed because no one loves trucks and tractors more than our little Mr. Q. Then I'd have told her about the pumpkin maple pie in the oven, and she would tell me that she'd be down for a piece later. I'd tell her that I still had some of her coffee in the cupboard to go with it. I still do have her coffee in my kitchen cupboard. I've not had the heart to move it yet. I like having the reminders, little pieces of her life around me. It still seems like a dream at times. Nearly seven months and there are still days when I can't believe that she's really gone. The ache in my heart reminds me that it's true.

Oddly enough, I've been humming the hymn "Nothing but the Blood of Jesus" this morning. I looked up the lyrics, and found hope…

 

What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus;

What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

This is all my hope and peace, Nothing but the blood of Jesus;

This is all my righteousness, Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Now by this I'll overcome – Nothing but the blood of Jesus;

Now by this I'll reach my home – Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Glory! Glory! This I sing – Nothing but the blood of Jesus;

All my praise for this I bring – Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Daybook for September 28, 2009

Outside my window... the German Shepherd is enjoying a nice fall day.

I am thinking... about what to munch while I wait for lunch to finish.

I am thankful for... a nice bookshelf for all of my cookbooks.

From the learning rooms... I love the days that we have music class!

From the kitchen... Baked Potato Soup inspired by Sara's facebook post.

I am wearing... jeans and Aaron's black turtleneck.

I am creating... a shawl for Aunt Lois for Christmas.

I am going... to stay home today.

I am reading... The Scarlet Pimpernel yet again!

I am hoping... to catch up on dishes at some point.

I am hearing... Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

Around the house... Kiddos playing and coloring, and a load of dishes going in the dishwasher!

One of my favorite things... A cup of hot tea. Earl Grey of course!

For more information on the daybook go to http://thesimplewomansdaybook.blogspot.com/

Doomed

I am obsessed with knitting. I'm sure that my friends and family would tell you that. I can't really disagree. I do love to knit, and if I'm sitting down, you will usually find needles and yarn in my hands. In an ideal world my yarn budget would be a little more… robust. Since I have to make the most of every dollar that I spend on yarn, I frequent the clearance racks whenever I have the chance to shop at a store that sells decent yarn. (I'm also a bit of a fiber snob, which makes yarn even pricier…) Imagine my delight when I found the most gorgeous teal blue wool in 284 yard skeins for only $2.50 a skein. I snapped up all four of the remaining skeins. At home I sealed them carefully in a Ziploc bag to await the perfect project for my 1,136 yards of beautiful blue.

I am also somewhat obsessed with the Interweave Press magazines. I really should subscribe to Knits, Knitscene and Crochet since I buy all of the magazines as soon as they come out anyway. The Fall/Winter issue of Knitscene contained a sweater named Carnaby Street Pullover. I HAD to knit it! It called for 1,160 yards of yarn. I figured that 24 yards would not make too much difference as long as I was careful, right?

NEVER knit a sweater from clearance yarn when you think that you have JUST enough to complete the sweater. I have a bit less than two skeins left after knitting the back and one sleeve. I have the awful feeling that I won't have even close to enough yarn to complete the project. I should just frog the whole thing and knit something else with this lovely yarn. I really should… I know that if I keep knitting I'll run out, be frustrated beyond belief, and have to rip it all out anyway. If I was smart, I'd just frog the back and sleeve right now…

I'll post a blog rant in a few weeks lamenting the fact that I really don't have enough of this perfect yarn to knit myself the perfect sweater. No one ever accused an obsessed knitter of doing the smart thing.

First Day

Today was our first day of lessons. The kids did really well, and due to their young ages, we kept the lessons short. We started reading a chapter a day of the book Little Pilgrim's Progress. It's a truly wonderful story, and this adaptation of John Bunyan's classic is quite readable for young children. I remember reading it myself, and have fond memories of my first introduction to Christian and Christina. I hope that my children will have such memories of our time spend reading it together!

As with all milestones lately, it was bittersweet. Mom would have been thrilled to see the legacy she began with my sister and I, continued in her grandchildren. I will forever be thankful to her for investing the tremendous amount of time, energy and money that she did to teach us herself. It was truly a labor of love for her. I pray that I will be able to accomplish half so much as she did!

Throughout the last six months, God has sent many things my way. Scripture, poems, books, songs and even blog posts! So much has been a comfort and encouragement to me. A recent song that is not new, but was new to me, is by Matthew Ward, "I Will Worship You."

The line, "And when my life's complete, I'll place my crown at Your feet," reminded me of her from the first time that I heard it. I can see her now doing just that. I don't know if she ever heard the song, but it's one that she would have liked. A beautiful reminder of who our God is, and why we worship Him.

So, I will continue my journey through grief, and continue Mom's legacy. I'll keep teaching my children, and telling them every day just how much I love them.

Proverbs 22:6 "Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

I Pledge.

There is a four minute video that will be shown in schools across America tomorrow. Take a moment to watch it here. Some of it sounds rather nice, some rather dubious, and some downright evil. At the end we are all encouraged to make a pledge of some sort. I reflected on this, and decided to adopt the slogan from Michael Peroutka's 2004 Presidential Campaign as my pledge.

"I pledge to honor God, defend the family and restore the republic."

Sounds like a simple little pledge, but let us stop to ponder for a moment all that is contained in those twelve words. That is the essence of what it means to be an American and a patriot.

Our nation was built upon a foundation of honoring God, and giving thanks to Him for our innumerable blessings. We thrived and prospered, because we honored Him as a nation. What should we expect now? Now that we no longer honor God. We should certainly expect His judgment, and like Thomas Jefferson, I fear for my country when I realize that God's justice will not sleep forever.

How does one go about defending the family? That is a tall order in today's society. Political activism is not enough. We must not only look to the defense of the family in general, but also to ours in particular. One way that I choose to go about protecting my family, is by teaching my children myself. It is my God-given responsibility to teach my children according to the Scriptures. I trust no one else with this sacred duty.

Restoring the republic is partially becoming politically active. We must elect only men who above all, fear God and seek to do His will. We must also ensure that they are statesmen, rather than politicians, and that they truly understand where our rights come from, and the proper role of government in protecting those rights from infringement. But that is only part of the picture, for the republic will never be restored until the hearts and minds of the people are changed.

William Wilberforce sought to make the slave trade illegal, but he realized that his work must be twofold. The laws must be changed, and the hearts of the people must be changed. They are synonymous.

I challenge the American people to read. Read the Bible, study it, and search it. You will be changed. Also, read the great classics that the early Americans read, and the ones that many of them wrote. Read the Declaration of Independence, and the Constitution. Read your state Constitution. Read The Law by Frederic Bastiat. It is a short pamphlet and the text can be read freely here. I'll quote Jefferson one more time, "If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be."

I was rather appalled by the people in the video pledging to serve the de facto president of the United States as if he were a great king. In response to that, I'll borrow another slogan, this one from Rev. Jonas Clarke from during the time of the American Revolution, "We recognize no Sovereign but God and no King but Jesus."

Come September

I've been busy gearing up for starting lessons with the kids come September. When I stop to think about this task that I've undertaken, I'm rather overwhelmed. OK, scared to death may be closer to the truth. I know that I'm up to the challenge, I just have to convince myself of that fact!

Mom made it all look so easy. She made being an amazing mother look as natural and effortless as breathing. I have a tremendous example to follow, but by the same token, it means that I have some very large footsteps to follow in! Dare I hope that someday my Munchkin will be saying that I made it look easy? Parents have heavy responsibilities, but the struggles are more than offset by the great joys.

I'm thankful to have help and advice from some really wonderful moms and teachers. Still, there are so many things that I'd thought to ask Mom. I feel a little more lost without her a phone call away. I guess this year will be a learning experience, for both the kids and me! As frightening as this all seems at times, it's a wonderful adventure that I face with anticipation, and a LOT of prayer!

(PS – Points for anyone who can tell me who starred in the movie with the same title as this blog post!)

Ocean of Tears

I miss her today. I miss her so much. I can't say why today in particular.

Perhaps grieving is like the ocean. The tide goes out and you walk the sand by the edge of the water. Suddenly, the tide comes in and the waves overtake the shore again. It can take you by surprise the first time you visit a beach. Perhaps our grief is like that. Some of it almost seems to fade a bit and we walk on, unsuspecting. Then the wave of grief swallows us up again, just like the tide reclaiming the sand.

Maine has her share of sandy beaches, but much of her coastline is quite rocky. Watching the waves crash against the rocks, constantly assaulting them is quite the sight to behold. Perhaps the beach analogy is not entirely accurate for where I am today. I feel more like the rocks. I've stood against the battering waves of the ocean for so long, but they are beginning to wear me down. The unending attack of the salt water eventually has an effect. I've cried what seems like an ocean of tears over these past months, more tears than I've ever cried over any single event in my life. The sorrow threatens to overcome me.

But I think of what the ocean does to fragments of glass. Smoothing out all of the sharp edges, softening and shaping it, into something remarkable and beautiful. Have you ever held a piece of beach glass? There is just something about it that fills you with a sense of wonder. Perhaps I am a piece of glass.

Maybe the relentless waves of sorrow and raw grief are serving to polish and mold me into something better. I'm finding this to be a long and terribly painful process. One that I could never endure by relying on my own strength. I could never survive it without His strength to hold me firm.

For today anyway, rather than requesting grace for the day, I'll pray to God to give me grace for the moment.

Bright Orange Crocs

When Munchkin was just a little toddler, Mom started wearing Crocs. They are those plastic foam shoes that have holes and come in bright colors. Not the most attractive footwear, but even I have to admit that they are comfortable! Mom discovered that they had introduced kids sizes. Well of course that meant that her little granddaughter just had to have a pair of her own. The only pair she could find in Munchkin's size was bright orange. I have photographs that I took of Mom and Munchkin on the lawn between the two houses, walking hand in hand, wearing those bright orange Crocs. It's a sweet picture, and a wonderful memory.

Those same shoes were worn by Mr. Q, and this summer by Camo. I was walking with my youngest little boy on the very same lawn last night. There we were, hand in hand, and he was wearing those bright orange Crocs that Grammy had found a few years ago. It seemed to me like an echo of that photograph, and reminded me of that day.

It continues to surprise me the little things that can trigger a memory. Remembering is such a bittersweet thing. The memories are sweet, and I am so thankful for that! At the same time, the realization of what we've lost is a bitter thing to swallow. Perhaps it is the worst when I think of Camo. He will likely never remember anything of the Grandmother who loved him so dearly. He won't remember, but I'll tell him just the same.

I think that life in general is bittersweet. We can't have one without the other. Consequences of a fallen world I suppose. Even so, as bitter as life is sometimes, there is still hope. Always hope. My hope lies not in myself, nor in anything on Earth. My hope is eternal, because my hope is in Him.

Surprise!

I feel like a kid again. I had two birthday parties (and two cakes!) this year. The second was last night at the home of friends that have known me for so long that they qualify as family. They all got together with Aaron and Joyce and managed to find me a spinning wheel! I cannot tell you what a surprise that was! I've spent last night and all of this morning researching antique spinning wheels online and looking for books to help me get started spinning!

My wheel is the precursor to what the modern wheels today are. It's called a walking wheel. Walking wheels have a larger wheel, and you spin while standing. They are also a much simpler, very elegant design, and in my opinion, more beautiful than their modern day descendants! Of course, I've got a bit of a soft spot for anything historical, and my wheel was made in New Hampshire in the 1800's. It's steeped in history! Wouldn't you just love to get a peek at the stories it could tell us? I've found a few videos on the internet of people spinning with their walking wheels, and now I'm just ITCHING to get started myself!

I've also decided that I can count it as exercise. When spinning on a walking wheel you take a couple of steps back and forth as you spin, hence the name "walking" wheel. So, the next time that the doctor asks me if I exercise, I'll say, "Why yes, I spin every day!" Hmmmm, if I'm going to spin that much, I may need to look into buying a couple of sheep…

You know, I may have lost Mom, but I'm still richly blessed with friends who love me as if I was part of their family. And that's the real treasure.

Next Year…

Today is my birthday. I'm twenty-nine. No… really, I am twenty-nine! Honest!

This is my first birthday without Mom. Last year, we went camping with Aaron's parents for my birthday. When I told Mom that I'd be gone on my birthday she said, "That's a bummer. I was going to make you a cake!" I smiled and told her that she could make me one next year. Today it's next year, and she's not here. I don't regret going camping last year, not at all. The kids had a wonderful time, and it was great to have the opportunity to spend the time with Aaron's parents. I wouldn't change that weekend at all!

I guess that reflecting on that short conversation with Mom reminds me that none of us know what tomorrow will bring. It's like I thought that Mom would always be here. I had no reason to think that. She'd had more than one brush with death. I knew better than most young people how precarious life can be. Yet, life without her was still a shock. It's still sad, and I still miss her even more than I'd have ever guessed. For nearly twenty-nine years, she was so much a part of my life. Who I am today, is in so many ways, due to her influence. I can only aspire to be half the woman that she was. She set the standard high, but did everything that she could to equip me to aim for it. For that I am thankful beyond words.

If I had to make a birthday wish, it would be this: That we would never let a day go by without telling those we love, just how much we love them. Do me this one favor today, if you can, give your mom a hug, and tell her just how much you love her.

Mom never got the chance to make me that cake this year, but my sister and my daughter stepped in to do it themselves. I'll be honest; it's the most beautiful cake that anyone has ever made me. Tonight when I blow out the candles I'll give them both a hug, and tell them how much I love them, because we never know what next year will bring.

It Will Hurt Until Heaven

I'm still managing to go through things of Mom's that have found their way to my house. I have the pillow that I made her years ago for her arm. Since her car accident, she always felt more comfortable if she had a pillow to rest her elbow on while she was sitting. The one I made was sewn from two hand towels, making it washable, and the perfect size. She used it for so many years. It looks ratty and worn, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. So, it sits in the chair in my dining room, a gentle reminder of the Mom who so shaped my life.

It still hurts. Nearly five months later, and it is still an open wound in my heart. I've thought of a new way to look at it though. "It will hurt until Heaven." Perhaps that sounds rather depressing, but bear with me. I've said many times that I'll miss her every day for the rest of my life. That is true, and denying it won't change the fact that I miss her terribly. The hurt from missing my Grandfather has not faded away in nearly 25 years, so why should this be any different. Reminding myself that it will hurt until Heaven is a way of reminding myself to have hope, to have faith. It won't hurt forever. Someday, all of our hurts will be healed, never to bring us pain again. Heaven seems a long ways off right now, but none of us really know do we? Until then, we can live with the hurt, because we know that it is not forever. We can continue on in the journey of life, and know that the hurt doesn't have to become our life, because it's only one small part of it.

There is a line in a song that asks, "When does the pain become a friend?" I think that I'm getting closer to that point. Certainly, it's become a companion on my walk through this world. Perhaps the pain does become a friend, because it reminds us of how utterly weak that we are. We are shown anew how much we must rely utterly on the God in whom we put our faith. Pain reminds us of where our trust must be, not in ourselves, but in Him. It reminds us that we do have hope, eternal hope. And we remember, "For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (Romans 8:18) It's right there in that verse, hope. Until then, we have grace, His grace, and it's enough…

Jalapeno Jelly

There's this jalapeño pepper jelly that I've made for the past few years. I don't care much for it, but I use it as gifts since some of my relatives and friends enjoy it. Mom was a big fan, and I'd have to make a couple of batches a year to keep her supplied. She used to put it on her toast.

A few days ago, I had to take Camo out with me and left the two oldest kids home with their Dad. He gave them PB&J for supper. (It's their favorite meal, go figure...) He used what he though was apple jelly. In fact, it was a half-empty jar of the jalapeño jelly that I made for Mom. She had left it down here when we made sandwiches for everyone on the day that we moved into the house back in November. She just forgot to take it home, and it got lost in my fridge. Surprisingly, the kids loved it!

Today, at lunchtime they requested more of the jelly on their sandwiches. Once again, they told me how much they loved the jelly. I guess I'll still be making it on occasion. Perhaps they have some of Mom's genes in them. They must, since Aaron and I won't eat that flavor of jelly!

That's one of the things that I love about having kids. I see something of everyone I've loved in them.

Munchkin was wondering aloud if they have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in Heaven. I told her that I didn't know. She thought that if they did, Grammy would be having the same jelly on hers. Perhaps it's fanciful, but the thought does make me smile, even if it is through the tears...