I'm afraid someone else's pain- Ceece and Bean and Bugg, have been a distraction from my own grief. I told Ceece maybe we could just head out of town for this week from now on, to cry or laugh or do whatever feels right, as we remember those we've loved and lost.
I have wondered so very many times since March how we could've handled this pandemic with Mom in Assisted Living. It would have just been all kinds of horrible. In the three years she was there I believe there was a snowstorm that prevented us from coming one day. Otherwise, there was never a day she didn't see one of her people. I think of how miserable doctors, insurance companies, or whoever it was responsible, made her life and ours even more hellish by insisting she had to be seen every fifteen minutes, even though they were treating the same thing over and over. Those long drawn out appointments were so hard on her. Now, oh, just do it over the phone or whatever.
Two years, but still, she's never far from my mind. This week began Jimi's decline. I think he's less than half this size now.
But life goes on doesn't it. Love goes on. Joy comes in all kinds of ways. So I cooked this weekend. When in doubt of how to comfort, I cook. Everyone's favorite, bread and cinnamon rolls, stroganoff for Bean and Bugg, chicken and dumplings for Ceece. With my kiddos ages, it isn't easy to find an activity they all enjoy. Some woven baskets intrigued a few, a gift of some old tools intrigued my tool loving boy and popcorn and The Lord of the Rings and another gallon of tea, kept Bean stationary for awhile, so Sunday was a good day.
We're still in school. Three teachers and classes are out, but we press on. I've been reading a fascinating book recommended by a friend- Fearfully and Wonderfully Made by Dr. Paul Brand. Glad to have it since my library holds are not showing up at the moment.
Keep Ceece and her people in your prayers the next couple of days.
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