As we come up on the second anniversary of Tiggy’s death, I’ve been thinking a bit about where I am in this whole grief journey thing. I know things are better because I can do things I couldn’t do even … Continue reading
Skimming over Facebook posts. The night before Thanksgiving. All the talk is about turkeys in the oven and pies cooling on the counter. Potatoes being peeled and cheesecakes setting in the fridge. And I think, “I put my turkey in … Continue reading
I am going to do something I decided I wasn’t going to do here on this blog and say, “Wow. It’s been awhile since I’ve writen anything! Sorry about that!” Normally when I go long stretches without writing, it is … Continue reading
My little Mookie turns two this month and I never really knew how hard that would be. I look at him with his hands full of cars and two more tucked under his arm and remember his brother, always with … Continue reading
Sitting on the bleachers, listening as the judge gets ready to announce the placings. Rain beating on the metal roof. Bear next to me on the bench, on the floor, in my lap, kicking at his sister’s shoes and on … Continue reading
I walk out to the heifers and the grass crunches under my feet. Everything around me looks like it has finally given up and succumbed to the drought. Last week, we had three days of rain predicted. Three days of … Continue reading
Evening lock up and two guinea fowl are missing. I walk around the henhouse, look up on top of the run and count them again. Still only six. I go back to the house for the flashlight to begin my … Continue reading
As Micah fast approaches 21 months, the age at which his brother died, things are a little difficult for all of us. Part of it is fear. Part of it is the constant reminder of Tiggy in everything he does. … Continue reading
Bear on edge for days on end. The yelling, the arguing, the talking back are like the first rumbles of an approaching storm. But he always retreats before it breaks. Back to his room. Back to his legos. Back to … Continue reading
In a drawer in my room lies my most prized possession. It rests there, sheltered and protected. My husband took it to a friend to have it prepared to display and I could hang it up . . . display … Continue reading
I homeschool my children on a small hobby farm in rural Nebraska and write about life more abundantly, from the joy of a baby's smile to the almost unbearable grief of losing a son while seeking beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, a garment of praise instead of the spirit of despair (Isaiah 61:3)
