Dearest Gram,

Soon I will come visit you to probably say my last goodbye.  Last night was when I learned that it's time for this chapter of your life to end.  You're ready for the next to begin I know, and I'm sure you're waiting with anticipation.  But Gram, I am not ready for this.  How does one say goodbye to somebody so close to there heart?

I can hear you whispering to me that we will see each other again soon, reminding me that we are just vapors here today and gone tomorrow, famous words written by James the brother of Jesus.  Boy did he ever know the weight of that statement.  A reminder that we have no control, but the Maker of the heavens and the earth does and a promise that soon you and I will see each other again as we both have a joyful and secure future.  Even still my "today" is going to be a long one without you.

Who will I call when I find myself in the middle of cooking and suddenly don't know what to do?  Who will remind me of Truths even when I sometimes don't want to hear it?  Where can I go when I just need to be in a place of safety?

You have asked me what it is I want when you and Grandpa pass from this life into the next.  There are two things:

1.  Your table.  That old white and gray speckled thing that hasn't been in style for most of my life.  But the memories, the lessons learned at that table are things I don't want to let go.

2.  I want your wedding bands.  When I said this you waved me off telling me how little they were worth.  When I insisted you were sure I could have those as nobody else would want them.

You're rings are a symbol, a promise to each other to walk life together.  That promise overflowed into my life.  You and Grandpa have been my anchor, the only thing in life that has been steadfast, unwavering.

I knew my place and yours as a child, and in those boundaries I found peace.
In your marriage I found hope for mine.
In your love for Jesus I found Truth.
In your stubbornness I was able to shape my own strong will.
In your constant giving to others I longed to be known as you were.

Tell me how do I say goodbye to one who is so close to my heart?  The pain stabs deep.

I'm guessing it's the first of many

Broken bones, that is.

Almost every year find a hotel to spend Easter weekend at, just the four of us.  The other holidays are spent with family but this one, the one most dear to us, we spend snuggled in at some hotel.

We always make sure there is a pool for our little fish to enjoy.

This year we also took a walk by the ocean.

We have ourselves a wee little egg hunt where each egg has a piece of the resurrection story hidden inside.  Then we cuddle up on the big bed while Strong man tells the story of Jesus' defeat of death.

We usually get a little something to remember our trip by.  This year we experienced build a bear for the first time.

Waiting for his x-ray.  To which he kept saying, "Oh Mom isn't this so much fun.  I get to have an x-ray.  Isn't it fun Mom?"

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But this time we also got to experience our first broken bone.  As Laughter put his shoes on he slipped off the bed breaking his clavicle.  He was a trooper.  For at least two weeks he wears an ace bandage and a sling, while I follow him all around the house reminding him not to climb the back of the couch, not to run, or wrestle, or sword fight, or really do anything that little boys do.



104.  Last minute family trips.
105.  Death defeated.
106.  Two happy boys.
107.  Salty air & and the sound of waves.
108.  Brave hurt boys.
109.  Excitement about seeing his own bones.

Sitting to blog

It has been months since I've sat to truly blog.  It's been weeks since I sat to even write up my list.  Honestly after months of photographs and months of life passing and changes happening my finger's still don't know how to transpose life into written memories.  What used to be a daily habit, a habit formed to calm my soul now has become a strained work that never ends trailing off into empty white space...

Here's to the hope of thoughts flowing as fingers record the workings of this Momma's heart.  But until then:

93.  Boy treasure's that will all too soon pass from my eyes.
94.  Growing pains that require midnight cuddles.

95.  Walks in the city forest.

96.  Puddle jumpers and bug nets.

97.  Streams to fall into.

98.  Sticks and little boy pocket treasures.

99.  Tired little legs and strong Daddy's.

100.  Family hobbies.
101.  New quivers.
102.  Good cluster's and imperfections.

103.  Spring; the cleanse of death, the feel of life.