designnarrative

Today is a good day.   Today I am home with my babies.  Today I’m not super-duper, just shoot me sick.  Today I’m not numb with fear about my mom’s cancer.  Today is a place I should hang out more.   I love the eerie moss on the live oak.  The analytical part of me wants to know about the mites in the moss and the parasitic relationship to the tree.  The artist in me just enjoys God’s handy work.  Today I’m sshhing the analytical parts and going all out artsy.  Ah, Summer is good.

Highlights from Litchfield:  TW Graham’s general store, watching G playing chase with the ocean, date with Ava, longest road trip ever with Kacee, yard sale paluza with Grandmama and Pa, pirate’s treasure, virulent virus, the season’s first fried green tomato, super dad Joey, three generations laughing with our toes in sand- priceless!

Reviewing Ava’s first grade life journal, I found this jewel.  It reads, “I went throght the grosest story ever!  It is called once opon a time I went into the garden shed to get my dad a hamer and gesse waht, I saw a dead posum! It is so grouss!  I wish it would disaper.  I don’t think eneything could or would be wors.”

Dead animal journal entry was news to me, best I can tell this happened at Greenback on Granny’s farm.

Ava finishes with, “At lest mom is getting me ice-cream”

Not sure I ever came up with that rule but we’ll go with dead opossum = ice cream treat.

“They have to be with their mommies…..the mommies snuggle them and keep them warm and ‘retect them from meat eaters and give them a leaf to blow their nose on and let them pick the movies and give them covers”

“Cause that’s not all they do, they brush their teeth and read them stories and you always need the moms”  Graham, age 4

My beautiful mama has breast cancer. 

She is handling this news with her trademark grace and strength. 

She has a wonderful medical team and is a fighter. 

Please pray for her healing and strength for the journey.

You might be a mom if:  you start a load of laundry, pick up, and spot clean on your way out the door

You might be a mom if:  you say, “it’s the last day, you’ll feel better when you wake-up, let’s go by duncan donuts”

You might be a mom if:  you juggle the coffee, phone, work bag, and her back pack so you can hold her hair when it becomes obvious that duncan donuts was a bad call

You might be a mom if:  you negotiate who is staying home like a power broker while stuck in traffic

You might be a mom if:  you run to three meetings at two schools and remember to stop by on the way home to get the good tissues with the lotion

You might be a mom if:  with in 60 seconds of being home, you decide to throw kids in the car and haul it to a walk in clinic

You might be a mom if:  you appreciate one (previously shy) child working on pick up lines with the cute doctor while texting the hubs and simultaneously catching projectile bile from the other child

You might be a mom if: happiness is everyone being clean, fever-free, and home for the night

Here’s to all moms!

Someone I love dearly is facing a major health issue

Fear leaves a metallic taste in my mouth

The air is thick with anxiety, it’s hard to breathe

The weight of the unknown is heavy as I go about my day

I know faith is not a free pass to avoid the difficult parts of life

but still I pray for healing

Will you join me in praying for peace and healing for the one I dearly love?

Thanks sweet friends