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Browsing Tag: love

Eight Years

Last Saturday, the 16th, marked eight years since my dad died, and as is now typical each spring, April always makes me feel a bit…strangled. I can’t see the blossoms open on the pear trees in this valley where we live without thinking of walking out of the hospital that day, after a week of watching and waiting and crying and waiting some more, to see that spring had happened while we were in the otherworld of the ICU. As most of you already know, it was almost exactly a year later that David’s dad died after another battle with disease, after a car accident. April? Not the best memories lately. I’d wanted to go to Arlington with my mom to visit my dad’s grave this year. But life, or really, a kids’ soccer game, and the dog, and all the other tiny details of a Saturday in the suburbs got in the way, and we ended up walking around the grotto of Mt. St. Mary’s University instead, quietly talking our way along the mountainside, stepping in between shadows and sunshine as we slowly moved under the…

Monsters, Monsters Everywhere–And Only Love Can Scare Them

I got news last week that a relative of mine, one of my mother’s cousins, Alice, had passed away. Her funeral was this past Saturday in Broomall, Pennsylvania. My in-laws were coming up from Baltimore to visit us the same day, but I snuck out to the service, a drive of about two hours each way, because, well, it was Alice. And it was a funeral. I’m big on showing up to funerals. Always have been. I just…we need to show up. So I try to. But here’s the thing about Alice. She was the kind of person you wanted in your life, even if it was as remotely as she was in mine. She was 61 when she died, but with the mind of a child, someone in the age range of eight years to 12. What this meant for her family–as accounted by her immediate family at the funeral, as known by me and everyone who’d ever had the chance to interact with her–was that she saw life in the absolute best possible way. Alice was treasured. Treasured. She was happy, positive. She…

Oops

Look, it was just supposed to be a quick trip to get pumpkins. David and I had had a crazy-busy weekend (because normal families spend 3 1/2 hours at a time in Lowe’s, right? And normal women venture out to replace one light fixture in a bathroom and decided that they’ll repaint and re-appoint every single fixture in two? And buy new pendant lights to put in over the kitchen island while they’re at it? DAMN YOU, LOWE’S, you beautiful place. You ate our money), and we didn’t do the fall-weekend-pumpkin-patch visit like all of Facebook tells us to. So I called my mom yesterday morning and told her that I was going to zip the kids down to our local farm market for a bit after school to play and pick out their future jack o’lanterns. She was up for it–David has seen my mom more often than I have these past weeks, so I think we needed some fall-Monday-pumpkin-patch bonding time–and off we went. They all start with a simple question, conversations like…