family, Grief

Nursing memories

3 AM. I sit on the corner of my bed, nursing my newborn baby boy. The moonlight reflecting off the snow casts just enough light to make out the outline of his cheek and the line of his little arm clasped tightly against his chest. I can tell his eyes are open, but all else is lost in the shadows…

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Grief

I dreamed about Tiggy

It’s not something I do very often. I remember every one. Some more clearly than my memories of him. He was there, playing with his vroom vrooms, smiling that ornery smile. I went to touch his wispy hair, but he ducked and giggled. He was there, lying under the table, and still that smile. I kneeled down to reach for…

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Grief

Thankful

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 the brine . . . .  four hours after I meant to. Does that count for anything?” I probably won’t…

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Grief

Where I’ve been

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 because I’m struggling. I have different kinds of struggles. There are those waves of grief that take me off guard,…

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family, Grief

Twenty three months

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 a vroom vroom. In the car, at the store, in his bed. And there is something comforting in watching Mookie…

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family, Grief

Only a moment

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 the floor again. He’s restless. He just can’t wait to see how his spaghetti sauce placed at the state fair.…

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faith, Grief, Rural life

Of drought and living water

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 watching the clouds build and move on. Three days of watching lightning all around us. Three more days of no…

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