Sunday, June 16, 2013
It was a moment in time, captured perfectly. Two men, both fathers, sharing a moment with the little girl they loved so much. It took my breath away and filled my heart with happiness.
I wish I was lucky enough to be able to recreate this scene again. Renee would be a little taller, Mark would be a little more grey, and my Dad would still be with us.
The one thing that would remain the same, though, is the love of a father. If there is one priceless gift that Renee and I have both been given, it would be knowing how much we are loved.
I'd like to think that both my Grandfather (who passed away when I was just a toddler) and Mark's dad, Tony, have a lot to do with that. They loved their boys wholeheartedly, and in turn, helped them to become loving fathers.
Love. It is the most amazing gift, and one that is perfect for regifting.
Happy Father's Day.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
I wish you were here to see all of your favorite flowers blooming in celebration of your birthday. I am most excited about the purple iris which we lovingly dug up and moved to each place we have called home. They have finally opened up after all of these years in Georgia. It's a miracle!
The others are just as beautiful; they were carefully chosen and planted in your memory in hopes that their beauty would always remind us of your smile and laughter. It's funny how a wisteria bloom can take me back to our days wandering Longwood Gardens!
Happy Birthday, Mom. As long as my hands are digging, planting, and pruning, you will always be here, right beside us.
Your Three Amigos
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
A very supportive and loving friend send this quote to me on the anniversary of Mom's death. Between the lovely bunch of daffodils which bloomed outside our front door and this sweet message, I was able to work a little harder at pushing the bad memories of that day out of my mind.
It is true that death and grief hits people in different ways. Speaking for myself, I don't go around with an Eeyore cloud floating over my head day in and day out. There are just some days, though, such as the 25th of January, when I have to work really hard at seeing the joy in the day. It's stupid, and I hate it. The optimist and positive gal inside of me doesn't like it very much when I let my head go there.
Emotions are a complex thing. Like the twisted branches and gnarled roots of the massive Banyan tree, they can swallow you up and get out of control if not properly contained. They don't abide by someone's idea of a time frame. It's up to you do decide how to handle them.
One of Mom's favorite things to tell me was, "One day at a time, Mary Beth!" Oh, how wise she was, and how much I miss that she isn't here to tell me that.
Thank goodness for the friends in our life who don't mind stepping in to remind us of the things we know are true. It's okay to miss someone who was such an important part of our lives for so long, as long as we don't forget to love ourselves in the process.
Friday, January 25, 2013
We go on because we have no choice, and because that's what she would want us to do.
We watched her do it when we lost my sister. She not only guided us during that difficult time, but she became our inspiration as well. If she could do it, so can we.
Why is it so hard then? We all try to live a life finding positivity in the simple things, but there are days when her absence is so obvious.
Perhaps these lost souls need a sign to help them through the dark days? Something that fills their hearts with light and joy?
One set of daffodils, bright against the winter's gloom, blooming on your day in January?