Family From My View
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Small Moments
I’m watching cars approach the terminal when I hear a familiar voice. I turn to see my 7-year-old granddaughter sprinting towards me. She runs into my arms. A man watching the scene says: Someone is happy to see you. Which is part of the magic of grandchildren. They are so happy to see you. And it fills my heart. Her other grandma and I meet her for lunch at school the next day. She guides us through the lunch line–how is it always the same?–and takes us to a high table with barstools. Over popcorn chicken and rice, we hear about her morning. At the end of lunch, she arranges…
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Love Overflowing
The house is quiet and I’m at the kitchen table folding clothes. It’s been a long time since I’ve folded my son’s garments. Lay out, fold and roll, the way his dad showed me. It’s mundane, but in the stillness, it feels sacred. Something I’m grateful to do. I feel teary writing about it and grateful God gave me the presence to notice it. Memories collide in my head. I’m in Oklahoma, where I raised my children. We lived here in their early years. I’ve had moments like this the entire week. Snuggling Georgia — just 12 days from heaven — her eyes focused on my face for a few…
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Back in Time
Have you ever wished to go back in time? Maybe you want to hug someone you’ve lost or ask them something important. Maybe you would like to reassure your younger self or snuggle your little child who is now grown. At times like this, you might wish for time travel. I’ve traveled through time and space; it’s always been unexpected and it’s always been brief. But I’ve been there, in the past. Once it happened when I was walking in Austin, Texas with my son and his family. It was short-sleeved weather in spring. I pushed the stroller on a trail along Lady Bird Lake. It’s really part of a…
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One Stitch and Story at a Time
I’m a look-forward kind of person. I like to organize and plan, which requires looking ahead. Why, then, do I spend so much time lately looking back? The answer may lie somewhere between the advent of my empty nest, the arrival of grandbabies, a cross-country move, the end of a fulfilling, yet overwhelming job, and the passing of my parents. These days I feel the need to capture family stories. To put them in one place. To share them with my kids and grandkids. I guess you could call me a storyteller. My parents were storytellers. My dad told us bedtime stories from his childhood. My mom told us family…
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When Life Intersects Eternity
I put away leftovers from dinner while my husband loads the dishwasher. We’re talking about the art we’ll hang in the office — we’re determined to unpack all of our boxes before our kids’ visit. I keep thinking about my son. His wife is scheduled for an induction in 3 days. After nearly 9 months, Baby Boy’s arrival is so close. How does my son feel right now? I text him. It’s the night before my mom’s birthday. My son, his wife and baby and my mom (who passed away 14 years ago) are all in my thoughts as I get ready for bed. I turn the sound on my…
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Feed My Sheep
The sky was clear and sunny, but the wind blew from the north. Spring took its time finding the Bar MK ranch — in the valley between Bear Lake and the Wasatch Mountains. The little girl, maybe 10 years-old, was named for her dad. The youngest of six kids, she would rather help with the animals and fields than be cooped up inside doing housework. And so it happened that she and her dad rode across the ranch one afternoon: he on his favorite horse and she on a horse named Copper. She heard the sounds of two tiny lambs before she saw them. Bleating and alone. No mama in…
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The Shape of a Life
This picture draws me in. Like I am in the canoe gliding through turquoise water. I see the woman sitting in the bow. The way she holds the paddle and turns her head. What is she thinking? Is she picturing her life when the honeymoon is over? Does she wonder how she’ll feel when she leaves Idaho for the Great Lakes? Does she still feel sad her mom never met her new husband? Did she know the years ahead would not be graphed as a single rising line. Did she expect, like most of us, her life would ascend without dips or stops or fallbacks? She couldn’t foresee she would…
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Loss Creates Space
My brother and I stand at the dresser I used as a child. It is covered with sewing notions. Things our mom used to patch levis, stitch quilts, and add badges to scout shirts. Things that were useful when she was around. My brother said: “It’s just a Chex tin, but I remember it from 40 years ago.” I look at the other tin, full of spools of thread and pins and buttons. It takes me to my mom. Actually everything in the house holds a memory of my mom, my dad or my childhood. Our dad’s death evokes our mom, who has been gone almost 13 years. I pick…
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A Good Fight
Two days before Christmas, my daughters and I grab some water bottles, fill the gas tank and drive 4 hours north to pick up my granddaughter. Her 6-week old brother is in the hospital with RSV. On the drive home, one daughter reads books with my granddaughter while the other fields calls and texts for me. My dad is not doing well. He needs medical attention. We call an ambulance. My dad spends Christmas in the hospital, as does my grandson. Our celebration is muted. We make Christmas dinner, but hold off on stockings and gifts. The day after Christmas, my grandson is well enough to leave the hospital. …
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Letting Go and Overgrown Rose Bushes
I pick up my dad’s Navy uniform. I feel the scratchy wool and see the contrast of white stars on dark blue. It’s heavier than it looks and I wonder how he managed in the Hawaiian humidity. I study a picture of him in uniform, standing on the shore in front of a Navy ship. He is looking at the camera. Full of the future. I’ve had lots of time to think about my dad and mom as my sister and I begin the work of condensing the contents of their lives into a single room. But that’s not entirely accurate because the contents will actually be spread across the…