1] 6 people I would die for on 'this great planet'...Christie Renee, Julie Ann, Patrick James, Rebekah Shon, Madison Lynn and Jack Louis [not in any particular order other than age...]...not on my list?...I love you but can not 100% say I would DIE for you.
2] As I am pulling weeds...being attacked by killer Michigan skeeters...droaning like the horns in where ever it is they are playing world cup soccer I find myself wondering...why do some people find me foolish or uninformed in having my children in my life...everyday...and helping raise 3 great grandkids? Isn't that why we have children? To be a part of their ENTIRE LIFE??? I love it and I love that my kids still dig 'hangin out wit me' Ma...buy me a calculator! Youse that can't dig it....I can dig it, they can dig it...we can dig it...oh let's dig it...let's dig it baybaay!
3] Why do the people that are 'in control' try to tell us worker bees how to do the job? This goes all the way down or up the chain of command...from parents to bosses...from senators to the president...we are the ones in the freakin trenches...how dare you tell me how to run my life or do the freakin job! When its all said and done...I'm the one who has to pay the piper...where ever in the hell he comes from.
4] In 11 days I will be on a plane to NC and my Sissy...and I hate to admit...fra...I hate flying...yall know that...please pray for me if you read this...and if you don't please have some kinda freakin ESP that tells you I need your journey mercy prayers! Outer Banks, fra and Sissy...what more can a girl ask for....oh yeah...
5] In 16 days I will be travelin up 75 northbound through Brighton, and Flint and Bay City and Saginaw...to Lake O-GEE-MAW and 5 days of fun...with my friend of 48 years and still counting...Carol Ann...my BFF...my knows my soul friend...bonus play...Chris, Dave, Bek and Maddie, Kevie and Jess too...Kathy...oh yeah x 2.
6] Upon sharing with Louie his trip to the eye doc tomorrow to see why his eye is actin so crazy...'NOT MY EYES MEME!...that is berry dangerous....berry...berry dangerous!'
7] Wonderin...should I go over to Roger and Diana's and knock on the door and just ask for a beer and a seat on their front porch...or will they be out shortly after they spy me on my front porch writing this?
8] While discussing the neighborhood with above metioned Roger as he joined me on my porch...'You didn't live there...you lived there....' while pointing at the house next to his and then the one next to that. Me sayin 'Yes I did...I have lived in both those houses...now I live in this one...weird huh?' And then him saying...'Boy, you must really like this street, huh?' Gotta love being a Waynervillian!
9] The biggest loser weigh in is tomorrow morning...how many Buds can I drink and then down load before that?
and 10] What the hell was that big shiny thing in the sky this afternoon about lunch time? It scared me and made me want my blue blocker sun glasses!
addendum: I now have 7 people I would die for. Welcome to the mix Abigail Grace my littlest princess.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
So I thought this would be easy. I have over 160 friends on Facebook, certainly I could count on my friends to support my pursuit of photography? Apparently not...only a handful have done so thus far. I have begged, cajoled, threatened with shame all to no good end. I have done everything in my power except maybe call Local 4 and get on the 11 o clock news. How important is my cause? Well important to me, but not important enough for the evening news, and it becomes more apparent as the deadline for voting nears, that I am alone in my pursuit for the prize! The prize isn't a lot of money or even a shot at the 15 minutes of fame some people desire, but rather more a love of my grand baby and a chance not otherwise available to me...to have an awesome photographer take photos of all my grand babies!
My niece Brooke came by today. She was rushing about today...delivering the tickets everyone purchased for her fund raiser. A more noble cause than mine...she is raising money for her team that are walking in the '3-day for the Cure' the breast cancer awareness/fund raising walk in August. Brooke thought like her Auntie...she would approach her Facebook family and see if she could have each friend donate just $5.00 toward a very worthy cause. Brooke knows how breast cancer affects someone...first hand. 40 people 'UNFRIENDED' her after posting her request three time over a one week period.
When I was new to FB, it found it very cool. You could keep up with people you might not otherwise be able to...with work, families and leisure activities filling our busy lives. It was fun to know who was going where and doing what and to see their families grow...many of my friends from school are now grandparents like me. And then came my entry into a photo contest and Brooke's attempt at raising money for a worthy cause and you realize who really does pay attention to you, and where your family is going and how it is growing. Like the scouts and pta and sunday schools...it is the same handful of people that really pay attention and rise to help with the cause. So if you read this and feel compelled to help me or Brooke out follow the links here and vote for my beautiful grand daughter Maddie Lynn or donate to Brooke's 3-day for the Cure.
And a big PS to my friends who have shown me support by voting...70 strong so far....only another 109 to go
DIRECT LINK TO DONATE FOR THE 3 DAY FOR THE CURE IN BROOKE'S NAME:
https://secure3.convio.net/npt/site/Donation2?idb=995953252&df_id=2285&FR_ID=1467&PROXY_ID=1808165&PROXY_TYPE=20&2285.donation=form1&JServSessionIdr004=ei3m12eec1.app322a
DIRECT LINK TO APRIL DIETZ PHOTOGRAPHY, BECOME HER FAN! http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Spring-Hill-TN/April-Dietz-Photography/178625394000?ref=mf
DIRECT LINK TO VOTE FOR MADDIE LYNN [TYPE VOTE IN COMMENT UNDER HER PHOTO PLEASE]:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3922830&id=178625394000&fbid=392965219000
My niece Brooke came by today. She was rushing about today...delivering the tickets everyone purchased for her fund raiser. A more noble cause than mine...she is raising money for her team that are walking in the '3-day for the Cure' the breast cancer awareness/fund raising walk in August. Brooke thought like her Auntie...she would approach her Facebook family and see if she could have each friend donate just $5.00 toward a very worthy cause. Brooke knows how breast cancer affects someone...first hand. 40 people 'UNFRIENDED' her after posting her request three time over a one week period.
When I was new to FB, it found it very cool. You could keep up with people you might not otherwise be able to...with work, families and leisure activities filling our busy lives. It was fun to know who was going where and doing what and to see their families grow...many of my friends from school are now grandparents like me. And then came my entry into a photo contest and Brooke's attempt at raising money for a worthy cause and you realize who really does pay attention to you, and where your family is going and how it is growing. Like the scouts and pta and sunday schools...it is the same handful of people that really pay attention and rise to help with the cause. So if you read this and feel compelled to help me or Brooke out follow the links here and vote for my beautiful grand daughter Maddie Lynn or donate to Brooke's 3-day for the Cure.
And a big PS to my friends who have shown me support by voting...70 strong so far....only another 109 to go
DIRECT LINK TO DONATE FOR THE 3 DAY FOR THE CURE IN BROOKE'S NAME:
https://secure3.convio.net/npt/site/Donation2?idb=995953252&df_id=2285&FR_ID=1467&PROXY_ID=1808165&PROXY_TYPE=20&2285.donation=form1&JServSessionIdr004=ei3m12eec1.app322a
DIRECT LINK TO APRIL DIETZ PHOTOGRAPHY, BECOME HER FAN! http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Spring-Hill-TN/April-Dietz-Photography/178625394000?ref=mf
DIRECT LINK TO VOTE FOR MADDIE LYNN [TYPE VOTE IN COMMENT UNDER HER PHOTO PLEASE]:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3922830&id=178625394000&fbid=392965219000
Friday, January 8, 2010
Waynerville
I have lived in the little town of Waynerville, most of my life. It is centrally located just about midway between Detroit and Ann Arbor, surrounded by many other communities its size and many larger and smaller bergs.
Through the years Waynerville has pretty much remained the small charming town I remember from my youth. I can still tell you where the old NBD bank, the Credit Union and the old Kresge's Five and Dime was. Johnson's Bakery now houses a Curves Studio...strangely ironic? The State Wayne Theater remains, but is now owned by the city rather than Schaeffer's.
The high school has expanded and improved the 'flats' with a practice football field and sweet baseball diamonds for both the boy AND the girls teams. My elementary school, a big brown brick two story one, has long been torn down with big new houses in its place. Most of the homes are 1940 bungalows, like little boxes all lined up along its 'Tree City' streets.
Why do I tell you all this? To tell you how content I am, how proud I am to be a Waynervillian! The city that takes care of its people. The city who's motto is 'Its GREAT to live in Wayneville!'
We got a boatload of snow yesterday, me and my family excited about the whiteness of it all when about 2000 the emergency warning system went off. We all ran and looked out the windows of our 1940's bungalow wondering what the heck was happening. Has some weirdo once again decided to land at Detroit Metro and raise havoc? Did the chemical plant do something crazy again? NO, they were asking us to remove our cars from the streets. That way the snow plowing, salt spreading DPW guys, with their quietly reassuring rumble, could make sure we got out for work and school in the morning.
I have lived in some of the surrounding communities of Waynerville, and NOT ONE, has the city services that we do. Well...we don't have recycling that comes to our door step, however we have had a recycling station right in the heart of this town for the past 16 years. My streets are plowed AND ice free in ALL winter long, done as soon as the last flake has fallen. As I drove through many of the surrounding cities today, I found myself driving on side streets rutted and slippery from the snow, and knowing the ice sheet it would form as it melted, I felt thankful for my own city.
Once the water I was drawing for my Saturday morning coffee was brown. At first I investigated around the perimeter of the house and the other water taps. Then I got in the car to investigate the neighborhood. Turning the corner of my street, I encountered the city crew, with the street already open for their repairmen. When I stopped to tell them what I was up to, and told them I was happy they were there so quickly, they smiled and laughed at me. Probably because they were making some big overtime, but maybe because they wondered who this crazy old lady was, out at 0600 on a Saturday morning seeking out where the water trouble was? The DPW guys were there again with their quietly reassuring rumble fixing our problems.
Our Mayor, who ran unopposed last year, owned a party store up the street. I dislike calling it a party store as it had the feel of a 'country' store when you visited, with several of the Mayor's cronies around. It seemed all that was missing was the checker board. I work about a mile away and walk in good weather. On my way home, I often stopped into the Mayor's market just to say hello to 'Mr. Mayor'. He became a friend as well and often asked after my family. I still frequent the store, which has been modernized since the Mayor sold it, yet the men that are their now are still friendly, and ask after my family whenever I visit. My little market still just up the street, with friendly people in my community.
I don't know...it may sound corny, and you may laugh, but I feel it is 'Great to live in Waynerville', I am thankful for it and am proud to call it my hometown.
Through the years Waynerville has pretty much remained the small charming town I remember from my youth. I can still tell you where the old NBD bank, the Credit Union and the old Kresge's Five and Dime was. Johnson's Bakery now houses a Curves Studio...strangely ironic? The State Wayne Theater remains, but is now owned by the city rather than Schaeffer's.
The high school has expanded and improved the 'flats' with a practice football field and sweet baseball diamonds for both the boy AND the girls teams. My elementary school, a big brown brick two story one, has long been torn down with big new houses in its place. Most of the homes are 1940 bungalows, like little boxes all lined up along its 'Tree City' streets.
Why do I tell you all this? To tell you how content I am, how proud I am to be a Waynervillian! The city that takes care of its people. The city who's motto is 'Its GREAT to live in Wayneville!'
We got a boatload of snow yesterday, me and my family excited about the whiteness of it all when about 2000 the emergency warning system went off. We all ran and looked out the windows of our 1940's bungalow wondering what the heck was happening. Has some weirdo once again decided to land at Detroit Metro and raise havoc? Did the chemical plant do something crazy again? NO, they were asking us to remove our cars from the streets. That way the snow plowing, salt spreading DPW guys, with their quietly reassuring rumble, could make sure we got out for work and school in the morning.
I have lived in some of the surrounding communities of Waynerville, and NOT ONE, has the city services that we do. Well...we don't have recycling that comes to our door step, however we have had a recycling station right in the heart of this town for the past 16 years. My streets are plowed AND ice free in ALL winter long, done as soon as the last flake has fallen. As I drove through many of the surrounding cities today, I found myself driving on side streets rutted and slippery from the snow, and knowing the ice sheet it would form as it melted, I felt thankful for my own city.
Once the water I was drawing for my Saturday morning coffee was brown. At first I investigated around the perimeter of the house and the other water taps. Then I got in the car to investigate the neighborhood. Turning the corner of my street, I encountered the city crew, with the street already open for their repairmen. When I stopped to tell them what I was up to, and told them I was happy they were there so quickly, they smiled and laughed at me. Probably because they were making some big overtime, but maybe because they wondered who this crazy old lady was, out at 0600 on a Saturday morning seeking out where the water trouble was? The DPW guys were there again with their quietly reassuring rumble fixing our problems.
Our Mayor, who ran unopposed last year, owned a party store up the street. I dislike calling it a party store as it had the feel of a 'country' store when you visited, with several of the Mayor's cronies around. It seemed all that was missing was the checker board. I work about a mile away and walk in good weather. On my way home, I often stopped into the Mayor's market just to say hello to 'Mr. Mayor'. He became a friend as well and often asked after my family. I still frequent the store, which has been modernized since the Mayor sold it, yet the men that are their now are still friendly, and ask after my family whenever I visit. My little market still just up the street, with friendly people in my community.
I don't know...it may sound corny, and you may laugh, but I feel it is 'Great to live in Waynerville', I am thankful for it and am proud to call it my hometown.
Monday, December 7, 2009
David
I just found this blog in my drafts...I wrote it in the early hours of the day we buried my beautiful little mother. Today is David's birthday and it was a month ago yesterday that I wrote this. I think today, David's birthday is the perfect day to show it to you all...
0202 and the house is finally quiet...its actually been quiet for quite awhile now, however I still roam about, as people lay sleeping, trying to restore some sense of order to what has become my siblings and my house.
I dusted and cleaned around David as he tried to make sense of the world he now finds himself in, somehow the axis has tilted and everything feels strange. He has lived with GeGe and me and Christie and Bekah in this house when it still belonged to my Mom. He was listening to music in an attempt to soothe the hurt the ache he must feel for her.
I wonder how he feels in these wee hours, I wonder what he is thinking about this woman he had loved, and all that will follow in the coming days.
Does he wonder about this house that I continue to tend to as he tries to rest and prepare for today...the day we lay the beautiful lady to rest? Does he feel what I feel, the tug, the knowing that this has been home for so long? Our things mingled with the things that have been here for so many years. Is he thinking about the people who are only wanting her things, the people who also loved her as he so quickly learned to do, the people who will live with regrets?
Does he wonder what will happen to the gardens that we have so carefully tended? Does he wonder what will happen to her things so treasured all these 66 years?
Or does he just lay awake and grieve this woman who grew to love him as her own?
I wonder....
0202 and the house is finally quiet...its actually been quiet for quite awhile now, however I still roam about, as people lay sleeping, trying to restore some sense of order to what has become my siblings and my house.
I dusted and cleaned around David as he tried to make sense of the world he now finds himself in, somehow the axis has tilted and everything feels strange. He has lived with GeGe and me and Christie and Bekah in this house when it still belonged to my Mom. He was listening to music in an attempt to soothe the hurt the ache he must feel for her.
I wonder how he feels in these wee hours, I wonder what he is thinking about this woman he had loved, and all that will follow in the coming days.
Does he wonder about this house that I continue to tend to as he tries to rest and prepare for today...the day we lay the beautiful lady to rest? Does he feel what I feel, the tug, the knowing that this has been home for so long? Our things mingled with the things that have been here for so many years. Is he thinking about the people who are only wanting her things, the people who also loved her as he so quickly learned to do, the people who will live with regrets?
Does he wonder what will happen to the gardens that we have so carefully tended? Does he wonder what will happen to her things so treasured all these 66 years?
Or does he just lay awake and grieve this woman who grew to love him as her own?
I wonder....
Monday, November 30, 2009
so compassion will be my theme here
When my Mom recruited me to accompany her on this journey about 2 years ago, I never really had the end...the final destination of our journey in site. It had been all about the trip and the events thereof until about 22 days ago. Mom and my cousin Cathy and I discussed hospice and the peace that comes with the release of the medicine we use. I now have come to use the phrase 'medical abuse' for now I have witnessed it first hand. It shocks me, as I am a care giver, a sworn patient advocate, and a nurse who once promised to first...do no harm.
Mom grew to despise the oxygen tubing that tangled around her and her feet and furniture for the past several years. Despite my attempts at teaching her how to roll the tubing so it remained neat and safely at her feet, she always managed to wad it into a twisted mass...much like the Christmas lights we are now all unpacking.
Mom's doctors ran tests...many repeated...many times and poked her for blood and tested anything that came from her body. They gave her a pill for one thing that caused a reaction somewhere else, so they gave her another pill or two for that. She drank supplements, she took pills by the handful and had endured what we call modern medicine for way too long.
Despite my effort to say to that beautiful lady; look at the reality of your disease, look at the reality of coming back with some semblance of health from this hospitalization and see what we really have left. What will you have when they are done? What will life from the hospital be? What quality will remain?
Then they suspected she had TB. The very disease that stole my Mother's Mother from her when she was only 12 years old. Into isolation and into a fear that people would cross their fingers at the site of her, banishing her to a room alone with every ones faces covered by a mask.
Then came more medicine, one day it was 20 pills the next day even more, to the abusive 46 in one day. This filled Mom's belly, so food now repulsed her. She had no room in that beautiful little body to fit food, while the miracle pills the doctors ordered filled her gut.
One nurse told my Mom that she was depressed, that when she finished the steroids she would feel less anxious, she would feel much better, much stronger, and that a Zoloft would lift her mood and she would feel well again. It worked for her mother when she had a stroke, it would work for mine who had struggled for so long. A glimmer of hope for my Mom, despite the reality that steroids were one of the drugs that had kept her alive that far. Another stroke of abuse instead.
At one point that nurse quit talking with me, avoiding me when I came on the floor. She knew that I was a horrible daughter, talking to my Mother about giving up, lets call hospice, lets just let you die!
But that nurse didn't know my Mom, that nurse didn't see what I saw. I saw a tired, failing woman who wanted for the past twelve years to be with her beloved Husband Walter Gustave. She wasn't there when my Mom questioned God, she wasn't there to share a meal with Mom and watch her struggle to breath and eat, to move about her home of 66 years and worry about it and bills andworryandworryandworry.
That nurse didn't know my Mom, mother of 5, Gram to 14 and GeGe to 9. Once the Woman of the Year for her lifelong church Prince of Peace. Wife of Walt, spoiled and spoiled and spoiled till those who remained in her life could no longer compete with his memory. Her every Friday visits to the beauty shop, her volunteering for my department at the very hospital she had lay in just a few short days ago. The nurse doesn't know about Mom's card sending. Cards sent for comfort and cheer for births and deaths and everything else we each experience during our dash. She recently told me she had mailed 96 cards last year 'and that doesn't count the ones I have sent for the church'.
The nurse didn't know my Mom grew up a hard scrabble existence, often moving from her Mother's home to that of her Father's until her Paternal Grandparents stepped in and took charge of her, after her Mother's death. She didn't know the story of my Daddy visiting his cousin's home one day. Of his spying her at the window, and turning to his cousin and saying, 'I will marry that girl one day'. She didn't know Mom also chased Daddy away that first day of love. She didn't know that they married and bought a house for $3,600.oo in 1943, the model home with special touches like the glass door knobs, and the black and white bathroom tile that still remain. The nurse didn't know about the family that soon filled the home, so beautifully kept by her. That nurse didn't know that Mommy and Daddy took her Grandparents in and helped them, just as they had done for her so long ago.
Did that nurse have compassion? Is that what compassion is?
And then came the doctors...with their inability to tell their patient the reality, despite being told by us what her reality was. They continued their song and dance, 'You will go home, we will have PT come, we will give you more pills to prolong your life and make you whole and all will be right and good in the world we will make you new again.'
And then the angels came......
I'm not quite sure when they arrived, but they were beautiful dressed in their navy blue, with radiant smiles and warm caring hugs and it was then that I knew compassion as defined was still alive. And then more angels came in many other colors and sizes and shapes and they saw Betty Margaret Young Eggers and felt compassion for her.
They felt the compassion I felt, they helped this beautiful lady make her choice to have beauty and peace and warmth and love around her as she continued her journey, now leaving me behind.
For those who were there and witnessed first hand the transformation Mommy made, will tell you each how much more beautiful she became. She had the opportunity to say things she would not have said to people who needed to hear her words. She felt the compassion we gave, and yet in the last few days gave that very compassion right back to everyone who visited her and those Steel Magnolias who helped her on her journey.
Helping us realize that the journey isn't ending, its just beginning for my beautiful little Mother. Helping us realize that those doctors who tried with their pills and tests and words of encouragement...couldn't compete with the angels and the Promise from God, that all will be right and good and you will again be whole and have Eternal Life.
Mom grew to despise the oxygen tubing that tangled around her and her feet and furniture for the past several years. Despite my attempts at teaching her how to roll the tubing so it remained neat and safely at her feet, she always managed to wad it into a twisted mass...much like the Christmas lights we are now all unpacking.
Mom's doctors ran tests...many repeated...many times and poked her for blood and tested anything that came from her body. They gave her a pill for one thing that caused a reaction somewhere else, so they gave her another pill or two for that. She drank supplements, she took pills by the handful and had endured what we call modern medicine for way too long.
Despite my effort to say to that beautiful lady; look at the reality of your disease, look at the reality of coming back with some semblance of health from this hospitalization and see what we really have left. What will you have when they are done? What will life from the hospital be? What quality will remain?
Then they suspected she had TB. The very disease that stole my Mother's Mother from her when she was only 12 years old. Into isolation and into a fear that people would cross their fingers at the site of her, banishing her to a room alone with every ones faces covered by a mask.
Then came more medicine, one day it was 20 pills the next day even more, to the abusive 46 in one day. This filled Mom's belly, so food now repulsed her. She had no room in that beautiful little body to fit food, while the miracle pills the doctors ordered filled her gut.
One nurse told my Mom that she was depressed, that when she finished the steroids she would feel less anxious, she would feel much better, much stronger, and that a Zoloft would lift her mood and she would feel well again. It worked for her mother when she had a stroke, it would work for mine who had struggled for so long. A glimmer of hope for my Mom, despite the reality that steroids were one of the drugs that had kept her alive that far. Another stroke of abuse instead.
At one point that nurse quit talking with me, avoiding me when I came on the floor. She knew that I was a horrible daughter, talking to my Mother about giving up, lets call hospice, lets just let you die!
But that nurse didn't know my Mom, that nurse didn't see what I saw. I saw a tired, failing woman who wanted for the past twelve years to be with her beloved Husband Walter Gustave. She wasn't there when my Mom questioned God, she wasn't there to share a meal with Mom and watch her struggle to breath and eat, to move about her home of 66 years and worry about it and bills andworryandworryandworry.
That nurse didn't know my Mom, mother of 5, Gram to 14 and GeGe to 9. Once the Woman of the Year for her lifelong church Prince of Peace. Wife of Walt, spoiled and spoiled and spoiled till those who remained in her life could no longer compete with his memory. Her every Friday visits to the beauty shop, her volunteering for my department at the very hospital she had lay in just a few short days ago. The nurse doesn't know about Mom's card sending. Cards sent for comfort and cheer for births and deaths and everything else we each experience during our dash. She recently told me she had mailed 96 cards last year 'and that doesn't count the ones I have sent for the church'.
The nurse didn't know my Mom grew up a hard scrabble existence, often moving from her Mother's home to that of her Father's until her Paternal Grandparents stepped in and took charge of her, after her Mother's death. She didn't know the story of my Daddy visiting his cousin's home one day. Of his spying her at the window, and turning to his cousin and saying, 'I will marry that girl one day'. She didn't know Mom also chased Daddy away that first day of love. She didn't know that they married and bought a house for $3,600.oo in 1943, the model home with special touches like the glass door knobs, and the black and white bathroom tile that still remain. The nurse didn't know about the family that soon filled the home, so beautifully kept by her. That nurse didn't know that Mommy and Daddy took her Grandparents in and helped them, just as they had done for her so long ago.
Did that nurse have compassion? Is that what compassion is?
And then came the doctors...with their inability to tell their patient the reality, despite being told by us what her reality was. They continued their song and dance, 'You will go home, we will have PT come, we will give you more pills to prolong your life and make you whole and all will be right and good in the world we will make you new again.'
And then the angels came......
I'm not quite sure when they arrived, but they were beautiful dressed in their navy blue, with radiant smiles and warm caring hugs and it was then that I knew compassion as defined was still alive. And then more angels came in many other colors and sizes and shapes and they saw Betty Margaret Young Eggers and felt compassion for her.
They felt the compassion I felt, they helped this beautiful lady make her choice to have beauty and peace and warmth and love around her as she continued her journey, now leaving me behind.
For those who were there and witnessed first hand the transformation Mommy made, will tell you each how much more beautiful she became. She had the opportunity to say things she would not have said to people who needed to hear her words. She felt the compassion we gave, and yet in the last few days gave that very compassion right back to everyone who visited her and those Steel Magnolias who helped her on her journey.
Helping us realize that the journey isn't ending, its just beginning for my beautiful little Mother. Helping us realize that those doctors who tried with their pills and tests and words of encouragement...couldn't compete with the angels and the Promise from God, that all will be right and good and you will again be whole and have Eternal Life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
