Snowy Sunday

Snow.  

It can bring out the best....

And it can bring out the worst...  

"Where's my potty???"

"What are you looking at?  Haven't you ever seen a dog look for a place to go potty before?"

"I don't get mad...  I get even..."

Disappointing

I'm supposed to be in Nashville.  The trip was planned well in advance.  It would be a fun time.  A time of learning.  Of getting CEU's.  Of eating good food and visiting fun places.  

My bags were packed (well, in my head) and a sign was ready for the door.  I even printed out directions and had calculated in my head how I'd be spending every single minute of my trip after downloading Siemens agenda on my iPhone.

But.  The snow came.  The trip was cancelled.  And I have swore off making any plans again in the dead of winter.

Hope everyone is staying safe and warm!

HELP!

Business is booming.  Who would have thought January would bring so many people in to get hearing help?  And speaking of help...  it was going on four o'clock the other day, and I looked out my office door to find a sight to behold!  A snow squall that covered the ground and looked like it would be a big 'un.   My survival mode kicked in and I did the first thing that came to mind. 

I wrote in that virgin snow...  for all the world to see....  exactly what I was thinking.   

Now how many days till spring?

Footballs

This scene from last year sometime:

Summer:  What are you watching, Pop Pop?

Gary:  I'm watching football.  Do you like football?

Summer shakes her head:  No, I don't like football.  

About five minutes later Gary goes to the kitchen and brings in some hershey's chocolate drops in a bag.

Summer:  What are you eating?

Gary:  Footballs.

Summer:  I like football!

It's Magic

Christmas celebration may have been interrupted by the loss of my sister this year, but God's peace has replaced the empty, sick feeling that I held onto for that first week that she was gone.  

I worried that I might have nightmares after the day of her death.  Being alone with her when she took her last breath.  

I did have one nightmare.  It was horrible.  One of those that you cannot wake yourself up from, but your spouse hears you crying out in your sleep.  I blame it on the spaghetti that I ate too much of the night before.  

Most of my dreams are good though.  Pleasant.  Comforting.  Peaceful.  Many include my sister.  

 For me, dreams are a big part of my life.  I love dreaming, especially when I can remember what I dreamed.  But I find when my mind is cluttered with doubt and unfinished business,  I often cannot remember what or if I even had any dreams.  If I take time to pray before I sleep I almost always have peaceful sleep.

Yesterday the kids came for one last round of play with the Christmas Village.  Then today, we packed it up and put it all away for another year.

I will miss mornings of magic.  Sleepily pulling myself from bed and shuffling out into a living room of brilliant blinking lights and houses aglow.  Figurines ice skating and the train waiting at the station for the next group of passengers to be whisked away to the winter carnival in the next town, just around the bend.  

Yes, my mornings will seem mundane without Christmas magic lighting up the living room, and my life.   But on the positive side, Gary (who is generally awake before me) will have one less job to do (turning on the lights).  

Ha!  He actually had it down to a science...  especially after he wired it all for remote access.  Just push the button and.... poooofffffff.... magic.

Oh, I have to tell  you this!  It is so funny!!!!  And so cute!!!!

Jasper is three.  A precious, precious child he is!  A little slow in learning and of special needs and so very trusting.

Gary hides the remote in his hand and tells Jasper that if he touches his nose the village will light up. 

 So he does.  

 Gary secretly pushes the button on the remote.  Jasper smiles with delight as the village comes alive  with the touch of his finger to his nose.  

Gary:  Now if you pull your ear like this (pulls his ear) it will turn off.

Jasper pulls on his ear and the village goes dark.  

He touches his nose again and the village comes alive.  

That boy was so excited that he had the power to turn that village off and on just by the touch of his nose or the pulling of his ear,  he kept doing it over and over again, shaking with excitement, his eyes wide with disbelief at his own powers.  

It was so very cute!!!

After church yesterday a rainbow showed beautifully over the church parking lot.  God, reminding us of his promises.  

My New Years hope is that I draw closer to my Creator 

and that His peace be with me throughout the year.  

Goodbye Christmas

Today was Take One Half of the Christmas Decorations Down Day.  All but the Christmas Village was packed away and toted to the shed out back.  It felt good.  Getting rid of Christmas.  

This has been my Christmas for the past two years:  Celebration on the outside, brokenhearted on the inside.  It takes its toll.  

It's okay though.  Every single year the fluff of Christmas fades more and more and God comes nearer...  reminding me that celebrating Jesus is the real reason for the season.  Not that I don't know that already.  But there's something about suffering loss that brings more light to the real reason, Jesus.  

And so the Christmas Village will stay up until the end of January so the kids can get their fill of play...  and then that too will be packed away.  And I will be counting down the days till spring.  Then summer.  Then fall.  And if it be God's will, we will see Christmas again next year.  

Lindy and Weather

Last Monday as I drove over the hill to spend what would be my last hours with my sister, I noted the fog.  It mirrored my feelings.  The hopelessness in my heart.  The sad that had replaced Christmas magic from just days earlier.  

Leaving her house later that day, after the death.  The crying.  The coroner.  The taking her away in a bag.  The dog lunging...  trying to get into the other room where his mama was being taken from him.    The family sobbing and holding onto one another.  The empty, sick feeling that replaced her presence.  Now, a clear sky.  Fog, lifted.  A ray of sunshine peeking through ominous clouds.

I thought about the Charlie Brown Christmas tree that decorated her table for the last couple of years...  and about how it seemed symbolic of her failing health.

The funeral home viewings brought so many of family and friends together to celebrate her life.  I learned a lot about my sister.  Things I did not know before.  I met so many people who loved her.  We shared stories and we laughed and cried.   I was living a dream.  This could not be happening.  Is it true that she would no longer be in my life?  I prayed for strength.

My sister Lindy was real.  She had a powerful personality, one that will not be easily forgotten.  She said what was on her mind, and I admired that in her.

She loved lots of snow.  Building snowmen.  Making snow angels.  Sled riding.  Playing in the snow.  She was often noted as saying that she hoped that God would put her in charge of the weather when she entered Heaven so she would be assured of having plenty of snow.

Now, I don't know for sure exactly how all that works.  Death.  Rest.  Souls.  Heaven.

But what I do know is that the warmer temps and fog and rain that had been our constant companion throughout the first part of our winter died off the day Lindy took her last breath.

As we walked out of the funeral home on Sunday night in dark and quiet of the night, snow was falling and had blanketed the earth.  Winter had arrived.  It was a bit eerie.  A twilight zone moment.

And then.  The next day, her funeral.  Blizzard-like conditions and bitter cold temperatures followed the funeral precession up the mountain and to the cemetery.  Wind whipped at the funeral tent and as everyone scurried to get out of the cold I went up and pulled a daisy from the flowers that laid atop her casket and I whispered, "I hope you're happy".