dad died in a work-related accident. A steel
girder fell on his head during construction of a bridge. He left three children, all under the age of
four. My son-in-law, Mark, the oldest,
has two younger sisters. When
I think of family love, I see the upside of this tragedy. Mark’s family grew up in a large Victorian
home with other family members. Also,
cousins lived close by. The family did
life together and, even today, lives in close proximity. I enjoy them on Facebook; my feed rolls with
photos of their antics and laughter. Mark
and Amy asked us to drop by their house to feed their cat when they drove up to
the mountains to spend the weekend with his siblings and cousins. They celebrated a cousin’s birthday. One heartfelt present brought tears to Amy’s
eyes when she told us about it when they came home. The
gift, a box of old photos, entertained the group as they each reached in and grabbed
a handful of memories from their youth.
Gail, the youngest sister, broke in…
our wedding anniversary today. We’ve
been celebrating all weekend! Yesterday
we woke up early, got dressed and headed to the Sedona Red Rocks. I climbed up those red rock hills determined,
even in my dress, to breathe in the fresh morning air. The
sturdy jagged mountains, copper colored, spotlighted from the warm morning sun
surrounded us; I experienced a rush of gratitude. God blessed us generously over the last
forty-five years! Our
trek in the steep red elevation exhilarated us.
We drove through town and found a cute cafe for breakfast. A burly, outgoing man, the owner, welcomed us
while the woman drinking coffee at his table complimented my dress. “We’re
celebrating today. It’s our 45th
wedding anniversary,” I replied. The
little cafe filled up quickly and we were surprised when the owner stopped by our table and loudly exclaimed that he had an idea to make “our” day special! He burst into song: “Happy Anniversary to
chimed in and serenaded us, clapped…
puny daffodils popped up in the patch of country dirt right outside my window
facing my husband’s man cave. I planted flowers there for an excuse to stare out the window when I need a break at my
office desk. They bring me joy!
no way do they compare to the array of daffodils I photographed on my trip to
Rhode Island in spring a few years back.
My heart leaps when I think of those rows and rows of yellow loveliness popping
up just off the shore of the Atlantic Ocean.
But Not People As
a child, my mother compared me to my cousin.
I displeased my mom when my grades didn’t reach the honor roll like my
cousin or if I gained a few more pounds than her. My strongest feeling at that time,
intimidation, shaped me. I
avoided comparing my kids when I became a parent. I learned the enemy of our souls does a
number on us sufficiently without our parent’s words echoing in our heads. The
small-boned kid says “I’m glad I take after your side of feminine looking wo…