As incredible as my weekend was (see below!), I received some sobering news while on the drive home:
The father of a Christian family in my neighborhood tragically passed away on Saturday. He left behind a wife and five kids. Please pray for them during this painful process, especially that they would feel God's presence in a seemingly desolate situation.
Thank you.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Meanwhile, in Another Part of Town...
...or another part of the country, I should say.
Oh, yeah. Did I mention I'm in Nashville?
If you're surprised, you're not the only one.
:)
Oh, yeah. Did I mention I'm in Nashville?
If you're surprised, you're not the only one.
:)
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Dear Grams
Dear Grams,
We miss your bright smiles, your contagious laughter, your easy-going nature, your constant kindness, your awesome tickle-scratching, your warm hugs.
Yes, we even miss the forgetfulness that eventually characterized the last seven years of your life.
The way James would tease you and you would talk ugly to him as if talking to a stranger. We knew you didn't mean it. So we laughed. We always laughed just to keep from crying.
The way you hummed along to your favorite hymns as Papa played. Words were long forgotten. We hummed along, too. Just to keep from crying.
The way you talked to the lady in the mirror. We played along and believed, too. Just to keep from crying.
And when the cancer left you weak and the Alzheimer's unaware, we stood by your bedside and talked of how you'd be whole in Heaven. We clung to that promise. Just to keep from crying.
Six years later it's still hard to hold back tears. I wish more than anything my own memory would reach back further. But the times that have stuck, I hold onto with care.
Love,
Jessie
We miss your bright smiles, your contagious laughter, your easy-going nature, your constant kindness, your awesome tickle-scratching, your warm hugs.
Yes, we even miss the forgetfulness that eventually characterized the last seven years of your life.
The way James would tease you and you would talk ugly to him as if talking to a stranger. We knew you didn't mean it. So we laughed. We always laughed just to keep from crying.
The way you hummed along to your favorite hymns as Papa played. Words were long forgotten. We hummed along, too. Just to keep from crying.
The way you talked to the lady in the mirror. We played along and believed, too. Just to keep from crying.
And when the cancer left you weak and the Alzheimer's unaware, we stood by your bedside and talked of how you'd be whole in Heaven. We clung to that promise. Just to keep from crying.
Six years later it's still hard to hold back tears. I wish more than anything my own memory would reach back further. But the times that have stuck, I hold onto with care.
Love,
Jessie
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