love – Page 2

Grieving Again…

Y’all know my journey. It took me YEARS to learn how to not stuff grief on a shelf in a box and ignore it pretending it wasn’t affecting everything in my world. As I stood in my kitchen last night sobbing uncontrollably in my husband’s arms about how I would give up everything – new house, traveling, everything – just to have more time with Hope I realized that messy journey of grief has started again. I was gobsmacked anew with the reminder that grief isn’t a process that is just for when someone is gone. Sometimes it starts when you know the goodbye is coming.

My children would tell you at some point or another in their childhood that I loved the dogs more than them. While that isn’t true what I love most about my dogs, and why I will ALWAYS have dogs, is the way they love you unconditionally. Unequivocally. Even on your worst day when you yell at them to get off the couch or out from under your feet. They tuck their tail and run to the next room and come back again five minutes later with their tails wagging and their heart in their eyes. Dear God if only humans could love each other that way!

What is special about Hope is she is the type of dog that they make movies about. She never met a stranger. When I bring her to the office she greets everyone with a tail wag and a head dunk for an ear scratch. When the news got out last week about her diagnosis I got a range of reactions from hugs to “please bring her to visit one more time” to “please don’t bring her because I can’t cry at work”. She is just a special dog and not in the “special” crazy way that my sweet Lilah is.

I’ll be transparently honest. I am struggling with mama guilt with Hope. She has been really clingy for about six months. Looking back through pictures with the knowledge I have now I can see the tumor growing. I am beating myself up that I missed it. That with the clinging that was uncustomary for her she was trying to tell me something and I missed it. I feel terribly guilty about this trip we leave on tomorrow and the massive change that is coming to our world with this move. Is it fair to her to turn her world upside down right now? Do you have any idea what that is doing to my heart?

I lay awake with her at night as she wraps her arms around my neck and I just hold her. Soaking up each extra minute. Praying that a miracle will happen and this ugly nasty tumor will just evaporate. Smelling the rot coming from in her mouth and knowing she surely must be miserable. Waking up when she is in her bed and checking to make sure she is breathing just to reassure myself. Feeling selfish for keeping her on this earth even one extra minute. Unable to let her go. Wanting my kids to have more time to say their goodbyes. Having my head feel like a ping pong ball and not being able to get it to stop. Wanting to scream how unfair it is for cancer to happen to such a sweet gentle young dog. I have THREE senior citizen dogs that we’ve been braced for a while to have to deal with losing and this has struck our second youngest baby.

There are some who opt not to have pets just because of this stage. The love they give is worth the pain but dear God it hurts. It hurts so bad.

Pray for my Hope. She literally gave the kids and I hope when we had none.

Blessings y’all – Amy

The Weary Traveler

Have you ever just watched what is going on around you when you travel? I mean notice the people flying past you because they cut it a little too close for their flight. Or the tired mom who has a kid strapped to her, one in the stroller, and is dragging a carry on? What about the harassed TSA worker who people treat them like they personally made the security rules just to harass them?

I think with the different legs of this trip the oddities of the human race has struck me more than it usually does. It is sad to me how often a smile, “please”, and “thank you” catches people off guard. I’ve had people look at me like “what do you want” and people whose whole face lit up when they returned the gesture. It takes so little to be just a little bit kind but I can tell from watching those around me that kindness is drifting farther and farther away. Having spent many hours with crew members and watching airport workers this last week I have huge respect for what they put up with on a daily basis.

I realize it’s a sign of the times but the amount of people we ran into with zero self awareness – of others’ personal space or of their own volume – left me with ringing ears and a very intense fight or flight response (more flight than anything). I realize that with alcohol involved that is not uncommon but sheesh. I’ve been elbowed out of the way for food, had my suitcase run into when the person coming at me had six feet on the other side of them and I was walking along a wall, and been run out of my seat because the person next to me or behind me was yelling like they were at a sporting event to a person sitting less than a foot from them. I’ve seen a crew member cleaning up puke in a sink in the bathroom when a toilet was literally a foot away. I’ve talked to a lady who had to go change her shorts after sitting at a slot machine where someone opted to pee in the chair rather than go to the bathroom.

I realize this echos my last post about will kindness ever come back in fashion but how have we evolved so far from the compassionate loving creatures that God created us to be. How have we all become so focused on what WE want and what makes US feel good that we can’t extend care and compassion to those around us whose circumstances may be dramatically different than ours? What gives us the right to treat workers at airports, restaurants, and cruise ships like they are lesser than us just because they make their living in a service industry? Have you ever stopped and thought about how bad the job market must be in these Eastern European countries that they have to come here and deal with us in order to take care of their parents or children? Have we really drifted that far in the human race? To not realize that a series of different choices or factors out of our control could have placed us in the exact same position?

I miss the genteel way my grandma raised me to behave – do unto others as you would have done to you – being present in the world as a whole. Where you said please, thank you, and bless you, where ladies covered what God blessed them with, hats came off at the table, and you’d never wear pajamas to the airport or a swimsuit in the dining room at a restaurant. I’ll never ever regret traveling and I’m not perfect at kindness by any stretch of the imagination. I have my days where I literally just want to get from point a to point b at my speed and on my timeline without dealing with anyone. But when I stop and think about it I can chill.

How easily it could be me that was dependent on the kindness of others in order to keep my lights on or feed my children.

So for those of you who will read this when scrolling killing time at the airport or on a cruise ship or on the bus – say hello and smile to the person next to you. Or to the person taking your food order or sweeping the bathroom. That one kindness may wind up being the highlight of their day.

Blessings y’all – Amy

The Circle of Life

I can remember being in my late teens and early 20’s when 40 was “old”. I can remember being young enough to not recognize maturity and wisdom when it was handed to me as my elders tried to prevent me from repeating the past. I can remember being young enough to be fearless of the choices I was making (though never as adventurous as I wanted to be). That fearlessness is what makes us leap to be parents. To fall in love, to buy a home, to move cross country, or to choose a career off the beaten path.

Then we hit empty nest season. Most of the time that season starts in our 40’s. Now as we have free time we have the maturity and wisdom to know things we aren’t blessed with knowing in our 20’s (nor willing to listen to). Moving makes us think twice, three times, and then decide we don’t have the desire to start over. This is the time of life we start losing celebrities we grew up on or people close to us that have always been there like parents or grandparents.

Things start to hurt, ache, our bodies become a stumbling block rather than an aid. Our minds are still sharp, we want to DO something with this time of life, but aren’t always able to reconcile mind with body. Now is the time we get what I call the “birds eye view” of the circle of life. We begin to face the inevitability that our children will have to carry on someday without us the same as we learned to live with the hole in our heart left when our elders left us.

We begin to learn how precious time is. Things that incited us in our 20-30’s no longer seem worth the energy of getting mad. We tend to hold onto things that bring us fond memories and nostalgia is our constant friend. We begin to call our kids’ music “noise” and miss the days we could understand the lyrics in a song and not get a headache from listening to the radio. We also realize we aren’t invincible. Bones break. Muscles ache. We forget things. We choose comfort over beauty. We start to look forward to retirement more than going to work and dealing with the grind everyday.

I am convinced that if we had the wisdom in our 20’s-30’s that the latter half of life brings us the world would be a different place. Less anger. More appreciation for each other and our paths. Maybe that is just fanciful thinking of an aging woman.

I first heard the phrase “Circle of Life” in the Lion King (didn’t most of us?). Not sure I ever really appreciated what it meant until I got to this phase of life. Would I change any part of my 20’s & 30’s? Absolutely not. I learned how to love, I grew up, I raised a family. Those years were hard – harder than they probably should have been – but those years gave me a deep appreciation for love and family. Those days make me treasure moments with my children and never take my husband for granted.

Someday my kids will be 45. Hopefully I’ll still be here and not an ache in their heart the way my grandparents are in mine. Hopefully they’ll be as blessed as I was with them and as full of memories as I am. More than anything I want that for them. And that, my friends, is what I think the true circle of life is. ❤️

Blessings Y’all – Amy

What’s In A Name?

When Tim and I got engaged one of the first questions I was asked over and over was if I was going to change my name. My immediate answer was “yes”. I’m an old school southern girl….why was that a question? I was a little stumped but too busy to analyze. I couldn’t do anything about it anyway until after my Thanksgiving trip so I shelved it though it never left my tumultuous overthinking brain.

Lanford has been my identity for more of my adult life than not. It’s the name my kids have (by birth or by a Fred declaration). It represents my years as a young woman learning to be a wife and a mom. It represents a chapter that I may have turned the page but it as much a part of who I am as green eyes or brown hair. There are so many reasons I love Tim but perhaps the most special reason is the room he makes in our life for my kids and Fred. His point of view is he knows he wouldn’t have me if the kids and I hadn’t lost Fred so he respects and makes space of that part of our life. He spends time with the kids and participates in traditions that pre-date him by a decade. I’m telling you I don’t deserve this man…

As Bev and I prepared for this years Turkey trip I started pulling together a list of what was involved in becoming Mrs. Davis. Holy cow Batman. Passport. Global Entry. Social Security. Drivers License. Credit cards, bank accounts, investment accounts, utilities, mortgages, etc etc etc. The list is freaking endless. Turns out it is a hell of a lot harder to change your name as a 40 something established woman than a girl in her 20’s starting her life.

The task is paralyzing. Suddenly I understood why woman far wiser than I am had asked the question to begin with. Add to that that it makes absolutely no difference to Tim if I change it or not (he says he’s got the girl and that’s what matters) and I began to question my sanity at embarking down this road. I had a lot of time to think this week. To seek counsel from Tim’s mom and Bev. To really try and wrap my mind and heart around what to do.

I’ve been wrestling with what I was taught and all these other factors. There is a part of me that can freely admit I am overwhelmed at the task with all the other things going on at work and know it’ll just be “easier’ to keep Lanford. There is a place in my heart that doesn’t want to give up Lanford because it’s my connection to my kids and niece (yes I know they will still love me as Davis.) I can’t talk about that connection to the kids without crying. I can’t find peace in my heart with either decision. Turns out there is a quite a lot to a name.

My sweet husband did the research and there is no time limit on changing it. I can sit with it until I’m sure either way or until life slows down. For now, I’ll continue to pray, seek counsel, and wait on peace to come either way. I trust that God knows who I am regardless of my name and will give me clarity when it’s time.

Blessings y’all – Amy

From Ms. to Mrs.

Not sure if I have ever shared this but I don’t write (on here) until the words come. It usually starts as sort of an idea bouncing around – whether that’s in the form of a title or a random thought – and when it becomes really persistent then I know it’s time to write. Blogging started as my therapy (thanks Bev) and continues to be that but also is just an outlet for something I’ve always loved doing – writing. I was telling someone Saturday that my creativity has changed over the years and I have learned to trust the process. I’ve quilted, scrapbooked, crafted, cooked, gardened, decorated, and written my way through my adult life. When one method dries up another reveals itself.

I digress. It’s Wedding Week. All things of the last eight weeks have been building up to this week. All of the stress, fear, anxiety, happiness, elation…and about a thousand other emotions have been snowballing into this week. On Saturday I go back to being a Mrs. again.

On some levels I feel like I have barely begun to adapt to being Ms. despite that having been the case for the last six years. I’m open enough to tell ya that I SWORE for years both before and after Fred died that I would never be crazy enough to fall in love again. (We won’t talk about how many people bet against me on that one!) I’d have rather been alone than risk the pain of losing another man who held my heart in his hands. You know what they say about making plans….God laughs and says “watch this”.

What He sent me was a man that I frequently find myself thinking of the old comics I used to read with my grandpa. The little girl and boy with the caption “Love is..”. Tim walks me to my truck every morning and then stands at the gate and waits until he is sure I’ve safely made it down the drive before he goes inside…love is that. Tim gathers me in his arms when I’ve had a horrible day and I come home mad, sad, exhausted, or some lousy combination of all three…love is that. He lets my dog sleep under my pillow even though he frequently gets kicked in the night when she dreams but he knows I can’t sleep without her…love is that. He holds me when I’m crying about how scared I am in all of this change…love is that. He busts his butt every day watching what he eats and getting on the exercise bike when I know he is tired so I won’t worry about the future….love is that. He tells me he can’t see any of the weight I know I’ve gained…love is that. You get the idea?

Tim and I have been through so much in the last 20 months – a lifetime of events (it feels like sometimes) and each time we are stronger and fall deeper in love. When I really think about what is changing for me right now my brain gives me some combination of terror and elation. Can I do this again? Be a Mrs.? Be the best Mrs. like he deserves?

HELL YES I CAN! This man walked through all of his fears and demons to get to this place and I’ll do nothing less but meet him in that place. Love is THAT. Love is also this army of friends and family who have helped, listened, cheered us on, and been there for us. Who are excited to see the transition from Ms. to Mrs. this weekend and celebrate the love that God blessed us both with.

Blessings y’all – Amy

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 – ⁴Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love is soooo all of that….

Bride Tribe Time!

There was a time in my life when I didn’t know what a “tribe” was. I didn’t know that you were supposed to have people in your life that were not related to you that you could call on, day or night, and they would be there no questions asked. I had a friend or two, sure, but nothing compared to what I have now. Last Saturday seven ladies comprised of my amazing girls Amy & Em, my niece Heather, my Bev, and my girls Becky, Jenn, and Amanda gathered to celebrate love, friendship, and WINE.

My requests for the day were visiting vineyards and minimal typical bachelorette type shenanigans. Also to not have to deal with a hangover all day Sunday – wine hangovers as I get older are rough. Though Em couldn’t resist the impulse to add a pretty pink plastic blow up ummm male part to the car ride the rest of the day was shenanigan free.

We started the day in Athens at the Triple N Winery. I can’t wait to go back and see that land not in summer fried mode. Just the winery itself was beautiful but the land around it I am sure is gorgeous in fall colors or spring flush. We were the first ones there and the gentleman that helped us had been with them for some time. (I’m terrible with names these days!) They had probably one of the top 5 Tempranillo wines I’ve ever had and a bubbly made of my two favorite reds – Montepulciano and Tempranillo – that I actually liked. I don’t usually like bubbly.

The best part of the far out wineries was the drive time it gave us to visit and also to dry out if you will between tastings. (I came home at the end of the day sober!) Our second stop was Rossini in Rockwall. Overall I don’t remember a wine that stood out there but they had a gluten free cheeseburger flatbread that I could eat everyday it was so good. Ames caught up with us there – she had had to work that morning and missed the first stop – so we were a full group that the wine maker himself took care of.

Last stop we did wind up in Grapevine but it’s a group favorite – Bingham Winery. They have a 2021 Voigner (white) that I am currently obsessed with. This particular batch the press broke while the grapes were in it so there was longer contact with the skin which makes it finish different than most Voigner wines. I didn’t even bother with the tasting there…went straight for a bottle. 😉 More than half of it went home with me but when you know what you like you know! By this point everyone knew everyone and I think it was the stop we were all the most relaxed. But I guess it stands to reason that since it was the last stop all the wine had relaxed us all too!

All of us at Bingham (Em is behind the camera)

We hadn’t planned dinner but in a tea run for Em (she isn’t a wine drinker) Heather found an adorable place across the street from the winery that had tons of gluten free options for Amanda and I. It was nice to finish the day with conversation and a full belly. The food was also incredible and got added to the list of date night places for Tim and I to try.

Ames & I at Bingham – love those smiles!

I had gone into the day a little apprehensive. I hate being the center of attention and I had been told multiple times the day was for me (side note I’m equally apprehensive about the wedding for the same reason). I wanted everyone to get along and have a good time. But as usual I was worried for nothing. I laughed until I hurt, found out some first impressions of Tim that made my heart full, and spent a full day with people who I adore. It was amazing.

Thank you girls for a wonderful day. I love you all. – A

Don’t Waste It…

As I look back on my life I’m reminded over and over again how precious life is. Yet God continues to send these huge grand reminders of how quickly it can change because apparently I keep forgetting. Guess I’m a slow learner in His mind? I get lost in the minutia of being a workaholic. I get lost sometimes still (though I’m much better than I was) in the noise in my head. I get lost analyzing if I am enough, did enough, said enough, or was enough for whoever whenever. #inserteyeroll

I stumbled around in a fog of darkness from 2014-2021. I had moments that I remember but mostly at this point there is just pain and darkness. One of the reasons I am religious with TimeHop every day is because despite the days it brings tears it reminds me there was joy. There were moments I remembered to soak up time with my children. There were moments I called them out for being the amazing human beings they are (when you doubt yourself as a mom these reminders are important). There was joy and thankfulness and immersion in the moments.

As I’ve tried to stop myself from doing a deep dive off the dark cliff that is currently looming in my head I need these reminders. It’s a long time adage that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. Maybe it’s not that He thinks I’m a slow learner….maybe it’s that He is reminding me not to waste this life He has given me. Not to spend every waking moment (and moments I should be sleeping) obsessing about work and if the yard is nice enough. Maybe it’s His reminder to love harder. Laugh longer. Live LOUDER. One of the biggest benefits of counseling is that it teaches you to look at what is fact and what is feeling. What I’m feeling right now is scared. Overwhelmed. Tired to my bones. But the facts are that this man, this relationship, and the ME of today is different. Each day is different and the outcome can (and will) be different.

I’ve heard from several people already that this situation we’ve found ourselves in has triggered change in their life. Reminded them of what they need to be doing. So as I look for silver linings to all the crap life is throwing our way right now…that’s the one I’m focusing on.

Don’t waste it peeps. Life can and will change on a dime. Work doesn’t matter – you’d be replaced in a heartbeat. Crappy relationships – put your time and energy into people who see your light inside and encourage it to shine. Do the thing you’ve been telling yourself you are going to do – no more procrastinating. Just live as loud as you can and don’t waste a moment. The time we have here and the people we are given to love are precious.

Blessings y’all – A

Fathers Remembered

It’s taken me a few days to organize my thoughts about Father’s Day. One thing I’ve learned about grief…there are times to share it in order to heal and let your tribe carry you. And there are times to be still in it and just….remember.

For those of you who don’t know my story – my mother is on husband number five if you count the one she married twice. My dad said peace out the first time when I was about a year old and permanently when I was around eleven. To be fair he is an addict and he can’t handle life let alone my mother or a kid who was born with a birth defect and needed constant medical attention from birth until age 18. No idea where he is but the last time I looked he was doing a stint as a guest of the state if you know what I mean.

My mother is a peach when it comes to men. “Father” #2/3 was abusive. In all forms of the word. When we finally got away from him it was straight into the home of “Father” #4. An improvement from the previous one save for the fact he was emotionally abusive. He only wanted my mom…us kids with our assorted problems were baggage. Blessedly I don’t know hubby #5 and never will, I’ve cut that tie, but I’ve heard he’s more of the same. How I wound up with the angel I married and the one I now live with is only by the grace of God. Certainly not by example!

I digress. My point with all that is that my PawPaw was the only constant positive father figure in my life. When my mother couldn’t handle my medical issues she would dump me at my grandparents for them to take me to doctors appointments, care for me, etc. Mom and PawPaw were the epitome of what home life for a kid should have been like! Summer church camp when they could convince my mom to let me go, camping at the lake with their friend group, favorite stories, all of it. When I found out Em was coming I was more afraid of letting down PawPaw than anyone…and he didn’t miss a beat. He used to take me out to hunt for Sesame Street baby stuff for her when I decided that was the theme for her nursery.

He’s been gone nine years now. There are still days I just want to call him and ask him how I do something. Fix something. What he thinks about something. As I get older more and more of the people around me are in the same boat my heart hurts for all of us but it somehow makes it easier.

There is no escaping the pain of knowing my kids pain on Father’s Day though. They are too young to have to bear that hurt. Too young to have to have all those painful moments where they just want their dad and he’s not there. Fred should be here for all the ways their lives are changing. For the young adults they have turned into. To give them the guidance that only a dad can give. See one thing I’ve learned as I get older is once they cross that adult line moms and dads have more clearly defined roles than they did when it was just snot and diapers. They can’t fill in for each other.

Some of the things my kids have told me that Fred had to say when I was out of earshot make me shake my head. One because I can see him being that mischievous and two because they go directly against some of our parenting philosophies. But Fred wasn’t as overprotective as I was/am. Because of the things I survived as a kid I knew how ugly the world is and wanted to hold on so so tight. He knew they needed wings. That’s the biggest thing I wish he and they hadn’t missed…

But you can spend your life in a constant state of missing the past and filled with regret or you can be thankful for what you had and cherish the memories. I think my point in all this is that this Father’s Day, while I hurt as much as I always do, I also just chose to remember them. The way they cut up together. Made me laugh. Protected me and loved me no matter what. Neither ever judged me for all the ways I know now that I was broken and flawed. Neither ever ever told me I was doing it wrong – life, parenting, anything. They just loved me. And that is worth honoring their memories and just remembering them. PawPaw as the father he was to me and Fred as the father he was to my children.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Where’s The Instruction Manual?

When our kids were babies probably more than one of you thought more than once “I have no idea what I am doing – why don’t they come with instructions”? Maybe not. Some people are born with inherent parenting skills or are blessed with a strong familial support system so that they never felt overwhelmed or out of their league. I fell somewhere in the middle of all three (and I really want to meet the person who felt like they had it all together all the time with a new baby)!

I grew up taking care of my siblings so I had some parental instinct. Even still I remember many a time calling my grandma in tears when Em was an infant saying “I need a break please come get this child.” By the time Fred came along Em and I were working our way through the toddler years – and more of those phone calls to my support system. But with the arrival of Fred in my life I suddenly had a teenager and a pre-teen too. Guess what? Their instruction manual was missing too!

As a parent our beacon is to want for our kids either better than we had if we had a traumatic/terrible/less than ideal childhood or to recreate the storybook childhood we had in our minds. Even with those as our very loose guidelines parenting is like feeling your way in the dark blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back. You navigate through the toddler years hoping you don’t lose your mind from saying “no” a thousand times a day, you enjoy the age five to twelve phases when they are curious about everything and you are too cool for words, and you are dumbfounded when thirteen hits and you know nothing and can say nothing right until about twenty-five. A manual would have been helpful especially in that tough last phase…

With God’s grace, a strong support system, and a little bit of luck you get them all to adulthood. You turn out amazing human beings into the world that you are proud to call your own. But get ready. This phase is the most crucial of all. This phase is the one that if you screw it up it is worse than all the other phases combined. And you still don’t know the rules. You are baffled when they don’t call – you once were the most important thing in their lives. When they do call you don’t know how to turn off parenting and not give advice and have no understanding as to why they didn’t heed it. And the quiet in the house will make you miss the days of bickering, blaring TV’s, and overwhelming noise lemme tell ya.

Why didn’t anyone tell you about this phase? How to let go? (Here to tell ya I bombed the test on letting go.) Probably because that damn instruction manual is still missing. You don’t know when to call and when not to. You didn’t know that when your phone lights up and it’s one of them that your heart is gonna do the simultaneous leap for joy and stick in your heart thinking something must be wrong. If they are adults, you are old enough you don’t remember the freedom you craved at their age and how your parents were the last thing you thought about as you made your own decisions and choices. A cruel twist of getting old is you really do forget what it is like to be young. And what it was like to have that confidence that the people who love you most will always be there.

Sitting where I’m sitting now, missing my stand in parents (my grandparents), I think of all the times I wish I’d called more or gone by more. Heeded their advice when it was offered. But also with the wisdom to understand that this circle of life IS the instruction manual. We all do it to the best of our abilities and hope when we’re gone that we are remembered as strongly and as fondly as I miss them. If we are? We didn’t need the manual. We did just fine on our own.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Calendar of Tears

For Christmas I gave Tim a calendar that contained all of the special people in our lives birthdays, anniversaries, important events. I also noted a small heart on days that are anniversaries/days that can be trigger days for me or have special significance.

Talking to Em last week after Mom’s birthday about us being able to take a breath after February I sort of put together in my head why those small hearts on Tim’s calendar mattered. The calendar of my life is marked with days to look out for, anticipate, pray over, and sometimes shed tears. A calendar littered with tears…I’ll explain.

In the aftermath of early grief those days – anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, special memories – they are like a tidal wave slamming into you and taking the breath out of you. What I have found is that as time moves on you don’t quite know on those days if you are going to get a tidal wave or just a lapping at your ankles. Call me crazy but the uncertainty is almost worse.

As I have grown older the calendar has become littered with “seasons” that have nothing to do with the weather. Periods of weeks or months where the bracing for the wave or the splash is just endless. December is a bad one. February is another. And by some odd quirk of dates there is a six week period from April 24th to June 5th that marks off when Mom died (4/24), PawPaw (5/14), and Fred (6/5). The three most important people in Em and I’s lives died within three weeks of each other on the calendar – just different years.

Some would say “why not just ignore those dates if they hurt” (yes I’ve had that said to me). For me that is also the same as saying to me “why don’t you just forget them?” Sounds pretty dumb huh? But it doesn’t work like that. Ignoring pain doesn’t make it go away. It gives it power and strength. Acknowledging them, celebrating them, speaking of them – that’s where the healing begins. It’s allowing yourself to remember they loved you and you loved them.

This last anniversary of Fred and I’s wasn’t special in terms of a big number or any particular significance . He’s been gone almost six years and we would have been married for sixteen. But this year was the tidal wave. Not a bad one mind you – God brought some pretty awesome memories to the day – but a tidal wave nonetheless. It’s hard to miss someone. It’s harder still when life is moving on and you are really happy.

I heard a sermon today that the message was “I’m not done with you yet, there is more to the story”. Move forward, you aren’t finished yet. Those words lifted my heart in ways I can’t yet explain to you. But what an awesome message.

I couldn’t have said this a few years ago but what if all those tears on the calendar are just part of God’s story for me? For my kids? I’ve seen those tears shape all of us in ways I know we wouldn’t have changed on our own. If we think about our pain having a purpose does it make it easier to bear?

I’ll never stop acknowledging those special days. I know there will be additions to the calendar as I age and those that are older still leave me too. But maybe I’ve reached a point I can understand that sometimes we need the tears each year to continue to wash what hurts and clear the path of where we’re meant to go.

Blessings y’all – Amy