Head blogger: Anita Cory, wife, mom of 3, sister, sorority alumnae, Christian, Sorority/Fraternity Life professional at WSU, former Paper Pals Design Team member, dissertation writer, and all around friendly 40-something in Pullman, Washington.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Blessings come in many forms...

Some blessings are easy to spot: a new friendship, connecting with an old friend, healthy kids, a meaningful job, a quality education, a house to call home and so many others.

But, when I heard my husband pray at dinner last night, "Lord thank you for the blessing of hard work for me to do" I chuckled. He is, of course, referring to the demolition project pictured below (double-click to enlarge the collage). And he wasn't kidding. He has been spending many back-breaking, skin scraping, character building hours in the very hot, sunny backyard on this project...and he considers it a blessing. Hmmm.

How many blessings do I take for granted and consider a burden, or at the very least annoying and/or distracting? Here's a few: cooking, cleaning, laundry and errands. Someday, no one will need my help with any of those things and then I'll probably see it as a blessing to have had this opportunity now.

How can I live now, realizing all that blesses my life? Do you live now knowing your blessings?

I pray I will and that you already do!


Monday, July 19, 2010

Metaphorically speaking...

Camryn had a really crazy, fun, girl-time yesterday with three other middle school girls at the river (after the church picnic), that turned into a spontaneous sleepover, full of hair-fixing, clothes swapping, and makeovers. All that turned into the majority of today being spent with one of the new friends. Hearing about all the fun and seeing the result of the aforementioned activities, made me smile and made my heart ache a little at the same time.

A couple of metaphors have been bouncing around in my head since earlier tonight when when I dropped off my darling dot for soccer practice. As she walked away, I thought, "wow, she is not really a little girl anymore". It was a crucible moment and I saw her life flash before my eyes.

I thought of hour-glasses with the sand always moving from top to bottom, telling us it is almost time. I thought of the thermometer signs you see when a community bands together to raise money for something. I thought of building a house, from the foundation to the framing, and so on. I thought of baking cookies which all have sugar, butter and flour, but the ingredients added at the end are what make that cookie complete and unique. I thought of the day she was born, and her tea party birthday (4th), and learning to drive the golf cart at Grandpa/Grandmas (age 8).

Some days, I miss my little girl. Everyday, I love my young woman. But seriously, does it have to go this fast? Can't we slow things down a little?


Saturday, July 3, 2010

A year, A blink.

One year ago tonight, according to the calendar, my Mom was freed from the ravishes that ALS had taken upon her body. She had been trapped in her own skin for more than a year, dependent upon others to care for her every need. Many "angels on earth" lovingly did so. Her spirit, her mind, her...everything else was fine. She was the same old Mom. No maybe a better Mom. She knew where she was going and was bold with her end of life reflections.

According to my heart, it feels like a blink, not a year. Details of what we did during her final days replay in my memory more than I'd like. The precious moments by her side, loving her, praying with her, wishing this wasn't happening, but knowing it was the end, still linger like plumes of smoke ascending from hot embers.

So much has happened without her. Birthdays, holidays, proud moments, new babies. Life is going on. It is not always easy to be in this space. But here I am.

We measure our lives in years. We discuss how old or how young was someone when they died. We are anguished by the end of lives. Yet, to God, this life He has given us, here, is but a blink. Just like this year feels like a blink to me.

I miss you, Mom. As much today, as I did last year on July 4th. But, I know you are free. And that is good.