I will post daily for awhile, and then I stop. It seems as though that’s my life. I’ll be 69 next month, and I’ve always been this way. I am passionate about something and stay focused on it until the next shiny object comes along.
Or until I get sick, which has been a serious issue with me for the past thirty plus years.
Or until a major tragedy occurs, such as Junior’s death. And then James’s death four years later. Or their grandmother’s death four years before Junior.
I think you get the point. Life happens to all of us. I can’t say that mine has been harder than yours, because I haven’t lived your life. I only know my own. Still, it has kicked my butt.
I really don’t know where to go from here. So, true to form, I’ll just keep putting one foot in front of the other until I get some inkling.
I hope to keep writing, because I really do love to write. It helps me to see more clearly when it’s on the page in front of me.
And I do love the life I’ve been given, the life I’ve created with my husband. Maybe next time, I’ll try to describe my living space, and why I’m so happy with it. If I remember.
Why do you write? Why do you like to read what I write?
I love the Lord. And no day of the week brings that closer to home than when I get to meet together with other believers.
But there’s more. Not only do we partake of the Sacrament as Christ set up during His mortal ministry, but we have opportunities to worship in His holy temple.
And I have learned that our homes are the second most sacred space to the temple, the House of the Lord.
I love Sundays, where I can sit back and ponder the lessons I have learned during the week, and the many blessings I have received.
I feel the Lord’s love for me. I feel His peace. I love the Lord.
February was harder than I expected. It was a landmark of sorts. A landmark that never was.
Fifty years ago, you made me a mother. I remember your first cry, that wasn’t really a cry at all. It was the cutest little squeal I ever heard. I promised myself that I’d never forget it. I can still hear it.
I can still hear you when you called home. “Hi, Mom. It’s me, James.” And I would always chuckle to myself because, after all, who else would it be?
What I would give to hear those words again. But I never will in this life.
I miss you more than there are words to say. My only consolation is knowing I’ll see you again, in God’s time. This isn’t forever.
Until we meet again, my son, I love you.
And I know we’ll be together again. Hopefully soon.
Many years ago, I would answer this question with whatever was cheapest, be it beer, wine, or whiskey. But I have been sober for almost forty two years.
When I quit drinking alcohol, I began drinking caffeine-free Diet Coke, and that was when they used that nasty sweetener. But, you get used to it. Then they switched to aspartame and it was a lot better.
After my second stroke and I was in rehab, my husband would bring twelve packs in for me. Then one day, I just stopped. That twelve pack just sat on my side table. It was my fifty-fifth birthday. I simply didn’t want it anymore. In fact, I didn’t want anything sweet.
I wanted water. But a specific brand. I love Zephyrhills water and that’s it. You could say I’m a snob. But if I get any other kind, I have to put lemon in it. Again, I don’t like sweet.
I probably keep Zephyrhills in business. I drink from 80 to 100 ounces a day. But that’s my drink of choice these days, and for the past fourteen years.
It was a simple thing. Just another mug. My boys knew that I collected them. But that Christmas was a very special one. I was newly divorced and didn’t have much money.
So I gave my boys what I had and told them to buy what they wanted. I would have driven them to the mall, but our house was so close and the parking lot so full that you had to park at my house to get a parking spot.
They walked off and were gone for about two hours. They were so excited when they got home! James had a couple of pairs of pants and a belt he really wanted. Junior bought a pair of shoes (before the Air Jordans hit the market and they were still relatively cheap).
But then, to my surprise, they had bought some gifts for me. That wasn’t supposed to be part of it. Junior had haggled with a local sportswear store for a Miami Dolphins licence tag cover. Knowing it was my favorite team, he argued that since we were in Utah, and the Dolphins didn’t make the playoffs, the store owner had little chance of selling it. Junior offered him three dollars, and the man took it!
However, it was the mug that brought tears to my eyes. It was a Kathy cartoon mug and on one side it showed her picture with *T*C*F*W, but when you turned it around, it explained.
*Too *Cool *For *Words
My boys thought I was the coolest mom around! (Their friends did, too)
That was the last Christmas Junior was alive. He died the following June.
I don’t know if I have ever unintentionally broken the law, unless you consider turning the wrong way on a one way street in the middle of the night breaking the law.
I was lost. Trying to turn around, I turned up one street, thinking I could just turn into a bank parking lot and zip back the way I came. But then I got flustered, seeing the one way sign after I made the turn. I was grateful there was no one else around. I was more embarrassed than anything else.
It is said that, when you begin to write, your memory is flooded with all kinds of memories. Well, I just remembered a couple of other times when I unintentionally broke the law, but that will have to wait for another day…or not.
I am certain that, if I dig deep enough, I could find countless times I have been guilty. I just thank God for the principle of repentance. As long as I continue to try to do what’s right and repent when I do something wrong, I’ll be able to face my Father through the grace of His Son, Jesus Christ. Until then, I cling to His promises.
If you had the power to change one law, what would it be and why?
Changing the law is a big thing. It was meant to be slow moving because of each implication it affects.
I might just throw them all out and start over. But I recognize that we need laws to keep us safe. So that would be counterproductive. I don’t want to live in a world with more chaos than we already have.
I don’t know what I would change. I’ve said it before. Borrowing my friend’s line, I’m a musician, not a politician.
What I really think is that the laws already in place need to be enforced. And I think that might start with our vote.
We need to be citizens of our country, whatever that country may be. I would have no business trying to vote in Canada. I think voter ID is the first law that should be enforced. That would be the beginning of the change.
How do significant life events or the passage of time influence your perspective on life?
I grew up the day my mom died. I was only fifteen, and like most fifteen year olds, I was pretty self centered. I didn’t even realize what that day would mean in the days, weeks, months and years to follow.
It broke me. I no longer had the mother, teacher, accompanist, and friend with me. My life turned upside down. I had to live with someone I didn’t know, didn’t trust, and didn’t love.
Later, I married a man who ended up on the FBI’S most wanted list. Getting away from him, I found Christ. Rather, He found me. Running away with two boys under the age of four and $69 in my pocket.
I had many accomplishments and made many mistakes, some grievous, but I had my boys.
Until I didn’t. I thought losing my mom was hard. And it was the hardest thing I ever experienced. Then came June 9, 1991, and a knock on the door at 6:30 AM.
The very earth cracked beneath my feet. My beloved Junior was gone. My world crashed. All these years later, I can barely write the words. If I was broken before, I was shattered then. I couldn’t imagine a week without him. It’s been almost thirty three years now. More than twice the years he lived. I couldn’t fathom it.
My older son, James, and I went back home. Leaving the only life he ever knew. We forged on, trying to rebuild our lives in a place where Junior never was.
Life began to get better. We had a home, hope, and finally, love. Real love. And a family that would have our backs.
Did you know that Florida has earthquakes? June 24, 1995, two police officers showed up at my home as we were setting up for a yard sale. I don’t remember the exact time, but it was before dawn. James, my first born, my baby who had just grown up to be a young man, was gone.
I spent the next twenty years in a deep depression. I had very serious health problems, including strokes. I wondered why I was still here.
Time doesn’t heal all wounds. But it does give one perspective. I still don’t know why I’m here. But I know the good I can do. The kind words I can spread. And my husband loves me beyond words and needs me, even if all I can do is to smile.
I can’t avoid the vicissitudes of life, but I can try to navigate them with the Master Navigator, my Captain, my King, Jesus Christ. I am His disciple, and when it’s my time, He will take me off this ship to my eternal home. Until then, I’m at His service.
My first computer came in a very small package. Part of it was defective and it took six weeks or more to repair.
However, once it came home, it was very good at computation. And it had infinite possibilities. Of course, it was years before the Internet, but it was really good at storing and sorting information.
It has had a couple of glitches over the years. There were two times that it almost shut down permanently. But it had the very best of care, and was able to be rebooted.
I’m putting it to the test now. I’m hopefully starting college next week. This old computer might be a little dusty, and some of the files might be corrupted, but it’s still a good one. It’s been with me my whole life, and hasn’t let me down yet.
So, I’m firing her up again. Let’s see what she can do.
Pocketful of Joy 