Category Archives: Life After Loss

I Don’t Deserve ……

…… any of the kind, supportive words that I’ve been given. I’m sure my children would be the first to testify to this.

I didn’t do anything except finally admit publicly what I’ve known, but could not reveal, for several years.
My children have been much braver than I. I don’t think they worried for one second about what people would think about them being their true selves.
I’m sorry to admit that I did worry about that.

Again, I didn’t really care what people would think about my children … or me. I cared about the friendships that I knew would end once people voiced their thoughts to me.
I’m not sure that even makes sense.

My views, beliefs, and thoughts have changed a lot since Jim died. I’ve come to learn that things are not always black and white.
But many of the people I’ve loved and respected for years don’t see the varied hues.
I’m ok with that. I don’t think we all have to totally agree on everything. I can respect someone who thinks/believes differently than me.

What I can’t deal with is someone who would vocalize their judgement of my children to me. Especially for something they did not choose.

So I remained quiet. In order to keep friendships. In order to keep the peace.

So much for peace.

I am a Christ-follower.
I am a mother.
I am rarely, if ever, totally right.

But as a Christ-following mother …… I can tell you this …… who you love is NOT a choice. Not for most people anyway.
Not for my children.
Not for me.

As a Christ-following mother …… I can tell you that I know my child has always been gay. Just as I have always been heterosexual.

As a Christ-following mother …… I can tell you that I do NOT believe that my child is sinning by being gay …… by being what he/she was born to be.
What kind of god would label love a sin? A love you have no control over?

I know that many would disagree with me. I wonder how many of those people have children who are gay?

And …… as a Christ-follower …… I can tell you this: Christ was/is/always will be about love. Love.
Love is love is love is love.
Love.

I think that’s about all I have to say on this subject. Of course, I can always change my mind, but I don’t want to turn this blog into a religious/political forum on gay rights.

It’s just about my life.
My life without Jim.
My life in spite of being without Jim.

My children are a part of that life.
Which probably doesn’t thrill them at all.

Love is love is love is love is love.

Love is Love is Love is Love ……

I have been blown away….. by the support, encouragement, and love that I’ve received since my last post.

Really.  I haven’t been too sure as to how to respond, so I’ve waited.  But I don’t want to wait too long because I want you to know how much you’ve meant to me.

The depression thing …… well, that’s only a part of what’s been going on and it’s not something that I’m concerned about.  Trust me, if it were, I’d be back on the meds in a heart beat.  Because I have.  Several times.
This time it feels different.
I know that part of the reason I don’t want to be on them is because I never needed them before Jim died.
Damn it to hell.
His death changed so much of me.
Without my permission.
Without my knowledge.
But there you go.

I’ve been mostly on anti-depressants for 8 years.  Enough is enough.  Or so I hope.

My last post wasn’t so much about depression, as it was the trifecta that was occurring in my/our world.

First, I’ve been missing Jim.  I think that usually happens this time of year.  I just want to hear his voice.  I want to know that he’s here, that he sees us and that he cares.
And that he approves.  I guess that would be the biggest thing.
But, as the age old song goes, “You can’t always get what you want.”

And then that damn Orlando thing happened …… and I decided that I’d had enough.
I’m done with hiding my children from my “friends”.
I’m done with pretending that one’s just too busy to be dating and settling down.

You see, I grew up and have remained in a conservative Christian background.  I have loved the people I’ve worshipped with and yes, worked with. Immensely.

But I knew that if I were to even whisper that I thought one of my children were gay, relationships would change.  Some would even end.
And I wasn’t ready for that.

I loved certain people so much that I couldn’t tell them that I had a gay child/children because I didn’t want to hear the condemnation that I was sure would come spewing forth.  That would mean the end of a friendship.  And I wasn’t ready for that.

But then came Orlando.
And now I don’t give a damn what people think, or believe, or spew forth, about my children.

I, and I alone, along with Christ, know my children.  I know their hearts, and I know their souls.  I’ve watched them grow up from toddlers in the church to teens.  I’ve seen some of them leave the church because of the hypocrisy they encountered there.  Heck, I saw my own parents leave the church for the same reason.

Yes, I knew early on that one of our children was gay.  Or was most likely gay.
No, I never said a word to Jim.  I can’t know for sure what he would’ve said, but I believe that he would’ve had a more difficult time accepting it than I did.

I do believe he would’ve come around, though.  And I don’t believe for one moment that he would’ve dis-owned or kicked our child out of our home because of this.

I know that this will come as a shock to certain family members, as well as friends.  And for that, I’m sorry.
Again, I didn’t feel it was my story to tell.
I still don’t.

I think it’s obscene that we expect our gay children to “come out”, while our heterosexual children just grow up and marry.

So there you go.  I have two gay children.
Whom I love very much.
And whom I hope find love and happiness and family life, in the same way I hope that for their siblings.
I know that Christ loves all 6 of my children.
No if’s and’s or but’s.

I wish that Jim were here with me to have my back now.
But he’s not.
It’s just me.
And that’s ok.
Because it has to be.

To those of you who will no longer be in my life because of your beliefs, it was nice knowing you and I wish you the best.

To those of you who don’t give a rat’s ass about who my children love, thank you.
So very much.
Because I need you.

I love my children.
All 6 of them.
I’m proud of my children.
All 6 of them.
And nothing, no … nothing, can change that.
I may not always agree with their choices or decisions, but I will always love and accept them.
As would Jim.

Depression ……

the whole Crew…… And so much more.

Depression……. never seems to visit at a convenient time.  Or maybe that’s just me.

The past few days have been hard for me, and yet I’m unable to say why.  We made it past May, our anniversary, 3 of our children’s birthdays, etc.  It’s now the middle of June.  My birthday is around the corner, but that doesn’t seem to be looming large.
Or does it?

Maybe I’m not giving it enough credit.
I’ll be 56.
Still single.
Still expecting to be single for the rest of my life.
But that can be good ….. and yet not so good.

I weaned myself off of my antidepressants early this year (Yes, I can hear your tsk, tsks, head shakes, and finger wagging from here).  But it was very slow and hey ….. if I was able to make it through my daughter’s wedding (where I looked worse than I have (weight-wise) in YEARS) and survive, then I think I did pretty damn well.

I made it through moving homes (and not selling one …. YET), through adopting Little Man, unpacking an entire house by myself, and then moving back to NY.

I’ve been doing really well, if i do say so myself.

And then.

Then these last few days have brought me no sleep, and an onslaught of tears.
I am in the throes of missing Jim.
Missing him hard.
Missing him constantly.
Missing his voice.
Missing his hand.
Just ……. the missing of him.

No explanation.
No answers.
No whys.

It just is what it is.

And then add to this missing of him …… the unfathomable horror that occurred in Orlando this weekend.
Orlando — a place that has meant nothing but fun for my children, for me and for Jim.
Many times.

And now it means death.
And hate.
And horror.

It also means that it’s time for me to stop hiding behind my children.
I have 6 wonderful, beautiful children.
Two of them are gay.
One, I had no doubt about as this child grew.
The other, I really never saw it coming.

I haven’t been public about this before because I’ve believed it’s not my story to tell.  So I still won’t tell it.
But I will say that I love these two children just as much, or maybe a bit harder, than the other 4.
They were brought up the exact same way their siblings were.  They received the same amount of unconditional love, the same expectations, the same discipline.
I believe that God loves them the very same way that He loved them when they were barely inside of me. I don’t believe that Christ’s love changes with the wind. Or depends on who you love.

I don’t believe the way they love/who they love is a sin.  I don’t believe in a God who would create love and then penalize certain children for experiencing it.

I may lose many friends over this.

But that’s ok, because they most likely weren’t my friends anyway.

More tears come now as I wonder if my children will feel forever unsafe ……. solely because of who they love.  Not who they CHOOSE to love, but who they fall in love with.  Just as I did.
Just as Jim did.

The tears flow.

And now I will lose more friends.
Meh.

I have no problem with Americans owning guns.
I agree it’s a right in this country.
But I can no longer condone the ownership/usage of assault rifles.  Guns that rattle off bullets by the second.  Guns that are used because the user wants to feel “tough’, “masculine” ,  “macho”,  “in control”.
Or because he wants to kill as many people as possible in a very short amount of time.

I am done. I can’t stand by any longer, no matter what area of the country I’m from, no matter who I’m related to, and say nothing.
I am sickened by the lack of action on getting these types of guns out of the hands of our children and out of our country.

Delete me if you must.  Because isn’t that what this country’s come to?  If we don’t agree with someone, we delete them.  We used to talk to each other, to share our differences.
Now we delete.
From Facebook.

From Twitter.

From Instagram.

From Life.

A Tale of Two ……

IMG_3977
(Tonight’s dinner.  And yes, I made it.  And it was as delicious as it looks.)

…… Worlds.

I know that many friends live vicariously through me and my life in New York.
And I get that.
And am ok with it.

I think that no one lives vicariously through my being widowed.
And I get that.
And am ok with it.

I know that I have a wonderful life.
I know that I have no reason to complain.
And so I try not to.
Much.

But ……
I feel torn between two worlds.

One world is my life in NY, going to shows, seeing sights, trying to make a life for myself here and in Texas.
Loving time spent with my children and my grandchild.

In this world I am self sufficient, independent, happy to be able to do what I want, when I want.  I love being able to travel between the two states, and elsewhere.  I am 100% grateful that I’m able to live this life this way and I don’t take it for granted.  I know that I was blessed to have the marriage that I had, with the perfect husband/best friend for me.  And I know that I may never find that kind of love again, but that’s ok …… because at least I had it.

Then there’s the other world.  The one in which I still do all of these things, still know all of these things and am still grateful for all of them.
But …… I feel lonely.
I miss having someone to be with.
Someone to have fun with.
Someone to talk to, argue with, laugh with, share things with.
Someone to hold hands with.
Someone to love.

And while I was blessed to have it, and know that I may have to be content with having had it once …… I really want to have it again.

Living alone can be very lonely.
Especially at the end of the day.

Why am I writing about this?
To let you know …… to make you aware, in case you’re not …… that while you may think that someone has a great life, a fun life, a busy life …… and that maybe every once in a while you might feel a twinge of envy for the life they lead …… we all have …… something.
No one has a perfect life.

No one.

And a person can be busy, active, traveling, show-seeing, blessed …… and still feel very lonely.

Very blessed.  And very lonely.
Torn between two worlds.

You May Get Awfully Tired ……

…… of seeing this face.
Though I highly doubt it.
Because …… this face!

IMG_3314

He’s all ours now.
Well, technically, he’s all Daughter #2’s.  But she has to share.  🙂

The hearing was …… well, it was certainly surprising.

Before it really started, the judge was asking D2’s attorney some questions.  She didn’t seem all that happy with the answers and seemed to indicate that she would not be on board with Little Man’s adoption today.
Most of us inwardly groaned and settled in, bracing ourselves to hear that this would not be finished today, but at some point in the near future.

The attorney questioned the case worker, and then D2.  And she described her life over these past 20 months …… and her love (and ours) for Little Man.  She also said what she feared would happen if he were to not stay with her.

I don’t think there were many dry eyes in the room.

She did a great, and very calm job.

After almost two hours both attorneys were basically done (D2’s and Little Man’s). The judge then questioned them.
Again, we thought we’d be returning to this court room at some future date to continue this journey.

And then, almost out of the blue, she looked up and said, “I’m signing the orders for termination and for adoption.  And for the name change.”

Daughter #3 and I were sitting together and we both gasped in surprise.  And then burst into tears.  I really was stunned.
The judge looked over at us and smiled.  I smiled at her through my tears and mouthed, “Thank you.”
She asked if there were enough tissue boxes in the room.
Fortunately, there were.

So it is done.
Little Man is 100% part of our family.
Forever.
Thank You, God.

He not only carries our last name, but his middle name is James.
After his grandfather, who would’ve burst into tears himself upon hearing that.

We had a celebratory dinner tonight.  Just him, Daughter #2, Daughter #3, and their good friend/attorney.  Oh, and me.  We hope to have a party next weekend to celebrate in a big way.
On our way out of the restaurant, who should we bump into but Chip and Joanna (if you don’t know who they are, you don’t watch “Fixer Upper”, and …… I’m sorry), who had already heard the news through the Waco grapevine.

You have to love small towns.  🙂

I’m headed to Chicago tomorrow for my niece’s high school graduation.  I know I’ll have a great time.  I’m just praying that I’ll be able to get back home without having to sleep on a cot in O’Hare.
Please, God.

Before I go, I’m going to leave you with some pictures.
And a video.

Be careful.  The cuteness overload may be too much for some people.
But you might as well get used to it.
Because ……
This.
Face!!

In with a Bang ……

…… out with a whimper, as the saying goes.
Only it’s really out with some silent tears rather than a pathetic whimper.
That’s more how I roll.

The house is packed.
And very, very quiet.
To say that I’m going to miss this lovely home is like saying Gracie is a little energetic.
Words don’t do the feeling justice.

The same goes for leaving this community.
There aren’t enough words.
Or smiles.
Or tears.

Last night I went out with a friend and made two new friends.
Two nights before I leave.
Go figure.

IMG_3655

But I had a great time, which I really, really needed.
I needed to laugh and laugh a lot, instead of think of how much I was going to miss my friends here and cry myself into dehydration.

Which is where I found myself on Mother’s Day.
In an emergency room, severely dehydrated (did you notice that great segue?!).
Although I doubt that it was caused by crying.
I’m actually not certain what caused the whole thing …… all I know is that I never EVER want to get that way again.
It was horrible.

IMG_3643

I started feeling badly Thursday night and then proceeded to sleep 46 of the next 48 hours.
Seriously.
No food.
No water.
Nothing.
Just a lot of pain (like the feeling of having been hit by a truck …… I hazard to guess) and utter exhaustion like I’ve never felt before.
Even as a mother of newborn twins.
(That hit by a truck feeling, yes. The utter exhaustion, no.)

I knew by Friday afternoon that I needed an IV but couldn’t do anything about it. (I just knew. Never been hydrated before.)
Thankfully for me, Son #1 decided to surprise me with a visit Saturday morning. Unluckily for him, we both spent all of Mother’s Day morning in a hospital.
Him, freezing to death.
Me, wishing for death.
I kid.
He wasn’t that cold.

So, one diagnosed UTI (who knew?), one bag of IV fluids, three different prescriptions and one huge co-pay later we were out the door.
I’m still not back to 100% but I’m a heck of lot better than I was.
The take away?
Living alone can be hella scary, especially when you’re ill.
It is incredibly frightening to know how fast you can go downhill when no one’s with you.

My second take away? The next time my daughter/mother/anyone at all actually, offers to take me to an urgent care I will say yes, thank you.

The rest of my Mother’s Day?
Nice.
Quite nice.

A Beautiful Harp ……

…… can’t always play beautiful music.

No matter how beautiful this magnificent instrument looks, it’s only as good as its strings.

Monday night, as I sat through the funeral of my stepmother, tears rolling down my face at yet another part of my life that is gone, the image of a beautiful harp filled my mind.
It came out of nowhere, but it was as clear as if the harp were actually sitting in front of me.
As I studied this harp in my mind, one of its strings suddenly broke. It was an almost violent action and sound that stood in contrast to the beauty of the instrument.
Sometimes the breaking of a harp string can be painful.
If you’re too close.

It didn’t take me long to realize that this beautiful, yet broken
instrument …… was a visual image of my life.
Or rather, of my life since I met Jim.

Meeting him and falling in love with him brought the harp into my life.
All of the people and experiences that came after that filled my beautiful harp with amazing sounding strings.
The music from that harp was often loud, full of joy, love, laughter and sometimes … touching sadness.

And then Jim died.
Suddenly.
And just as suddenly, most of the strings on that harp snapped violently, stinging anyone and anything in their path.
After that, the harp just sat …… in its brokenness.

brokenharp

It occurred to me, as I sat in that funeral home Monday night, that each breaking string represented another connection with Jim that was now gone.
So seeing that string break at that moment, wasn’t actually losing my stepmother, but losing another part of my life that contained Jim.

I thought of all of those broken strings, and the lost people or things they represented.
My mother in law.
People who withdrew from my life.
The sale of our home.
The sale of our lake house.
The death of a friend of ours.
The divorce of friends of ours.
Our children …… graduating, growing, graduating again …… marrying.
Moving to New York.
Leaving Kingwood.
Selling his car.

There are so many more strings that have broken.
So many more ties to Jim that have been lost.
The more they break …… the lonelier, and sometimes more broken, I feel.

closeup of harp

But here’s the thing.
The most important thing.
The harp doesn’t have to stay broken.
New strings can be added.
Notice that I didn’t say that strings can be “replaced”.
Because they can’t.
Ever.
And that’s ok.
They need to be remembered and honored and treasured for what each of them added to the beauty of the instrument.

And then new strings can be installed.
All it takes is a little determination.
And the desire to hear beautiful music again.

But most importantly …… it’s asking for help from the God who’s been loving us and waiting for us all along.

I’ve found that he adds the very best strings …… when I get out of His way.

Ironically enough …… the same events that can break a string …… can also put in a new one.
Moving to New York.
Selling “our” home in order to start the next part of my life.
Children graduating. And thriving.
And marrying.

New strings can be added as often as you recognize them.
Son #4.
Little Man.
Moving to Waco.
Gracie.                                                                                                                                                         Making new friends.                                                                                                                 Reconnecting with old ones.
Continuing to make memories.
Continuing to count blessings.

A harp needs to have strings replaced periodically in order to sound its best.
And even though new strings bring beauty …… there will still be pain each time an old one breaks.
Each time I lose another connection to Jim.

It’s this thing called “life” …… and it comes with the territory …… of living.

My harp will continue to play, and will continue to cause pain sometimes. The only way to avoid that is to leave it sitting in a corner, collecting dust.
And missing out on its extraordinary, beautiful music.
That …… I cannot do.

I’ll continue to listen to its music, feel the pain of each broken string, and lovingly add new ones as needed, with God’s help.
Because I can’t bear the thought of never seeing, or hearing, its beauty again.
And remembering Jim each time it plays.

kim webby harp 2

Thoughts, Emotions, Fears, Doubts ……

 

…… you name it, it’s been swirling through my brain every single night lately.
Every.
Single.
Night.

I twist and turn and turn and twist.
My body feels like …… I don’t know how to explain it other than it feels like I’m jumping out of my skin.

Each day I wake up earlier than the day before.
This morning it was at 2:58.
A.M.

The thoughts?
Sadness due to death …… again.
Feeling overwhelmed.
Actually, that makes me laugh.
I am so BEYOND overwhelmed that I have no words for it.
Houses to buy.
Houses to sell that no one’s looking at.
Mortgages.
HOA dues.
Taxes.
Stay in NY?
Leave NY?
Fighting with internet companies.
Yes, I still have no internet in my apartment.
Calling new utility companies to begin service.
Getting things in order for a closing tomorrow.
Trying to find a moving company.
Wondering what the hell I’m doing.
Missing Jim too much for words.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.

My stepmother died yesterday.
The person I wanted, I needed, to turn to, to be held by while I cried …… is the person I want most in the world.
The person who’s not here.
And never will be here.

Instead, I sat alone in my house.
You know, the usual.
And cried.
With no one.
As usual.
God, that sucks so much.

A few weeks ago, while I was at home in Texas, I went out to dinner with a friend.
As I walked through the restaurant I saw a sweet friend I hadn’t seen in a long time.
She had seen “Fixer Upper” and we talked about that for a bit. She said that she heard I was moving to Waco.
Then she said, “When they decide when they’re throwing you a goodbye party, please tell them to include me.”
I stopped for a moment, not able to say anything.
And then I just kind of stammered, “Ummmm, there won’t be a party.”
To which she replied, “Oh, don’t be silly, of course there’ll be a party! And I want to be there!”

But …… there really won’t be a party.
Probably for many reasons.
I don’t have that many friends left.
No one would think to do that.
I’ve been slowly moving away from there since I first went to NY.
But even before then, the friends had faded away.
Mostly.

My moving to Waco won’t even be a blip on the radar in Kingwood.
And I’m not writing that in a “woe is me” kind of way.
It is what it is.
For several reasons.
There’s no one to blame.
Unless it’s me.
But I won’t take all of it.

Life has moved forward.
And I don’t think I’ve been the widow that many would’ve liked me to be.
For whatever that’s worth.
Hell, I haven’t always been the widow I would’ve liked me to be.
Too bad there’s not a book that leads you through the loss of the most important person in your life.
Step by step.

It’s scary how fast and how much your life can change in such a short time.
How you can go from being surrounded by too many friends to count, a great and loving family …… to being mostly alone all of the time, no matter where you are.
For me, it’s much easier to be alone in a city where I don’t really know anyone, than being alone in a place where I used to have hundreds of friends.

Which makes it easier to leave and move to Waco.
The number one reason to move there is to be closer to the kids.
And the grandkid.
And now the parents.
And some extended family.
And …… Waco’s becoming kind of cool.
Who would’ve thunk?

Tonight I’ll be prepared when I go to bed.
Instead of getting out of bed at 3:00 a.m. to find my diffuser and natural oils (thank you, Beth) …… I’ll get them going before I go to bed.
Because they helped.
Although I can’t say if it was that …… or the Xanax I swallowed at 3:01 a.m.
I’m sure it was both.

All I know is that I need one really good night’s sleep.
Six to eight hours without waking up in a panic, thinking of all of the things I need to get done, am responsible for, haven’t done right, have to do alone, wish I’d done differently, need to add to my list, need to remove from my list, need to re-do, etc.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.

Maybe now that I’ve put this out in the universe, my mind will be free of its clutter.
I’m trying to not laugh so hard that I can’t type.
But I can always hope.

And I can especially hope that I’m not the only widow/person who’s felt this way.
Hopefully.

I Really Am Happy ……

…… but it’s always a happiness tinged with some sadness.
Always.
I certainly don’t choose to have that sadness there.
I don’t invite it in.
I don’t even think about it sometimes.
It just appears.

I leave for NY tomorrow morning.
And I’m more than ready to get back there.
And not only because I’m going to be in the audience (AND the after party!) of SNL Saturday night (WHOOP!!!).
But I’ve been away too long.
It’s time to go back.
Even if it’s only for a couple of weeks.

I close on the Waco house at the end of this month.
I’m excited about that house.
I look forward to living in it.
But yet ……
There’s sadness.

I love my Kingwood house.
I haven’t lived in it as long as I thought I would.
It’s a great house.
I’ll miss it.

I’ve lived in Kingwood for almost 25 years.
Almost eight and half years without Jim.
It’s time to leave.
Which makes me happy …… and yet makes me sad.
So many mixed feelings.

I miss him.
Still.
Always.
Forever.

Life moves forward.
In spite of him not being here.
Things change.
Homes are sold.
Houses are bought.
Children grow up.
They get married.
They have children.
In spite of him not being here.
Happiness tinged with sadness.
Always.

In other news …… kind of …… I received a check in the mail a couple of days ago.
It was for $5,000.00. From the people who bought the lake house.
Surprise, surprise.
And since they sent it …… I guess I won’t publish their names here.
Sorry.
You know I’d love to.
But I’m taking the high road.
🙂

So I’ll see you from New York.
Be sure to watch SNL Saturday night.
Not because you’ll see me in the audience.
But so we can exchange notes afterwards.
And so you can find out if I stayed awake to join the after party at 1:00 a.m.
Care to place a bet?

Shifting Sands and Mingled Feelings ……

…… best describes my life right now.

The wedding was amazing. It was beautiful and perfect. It was exactly what Daughter #3 wanted and what she planned. No kidding, it went off without a single hitch.
Well …… if you don’t count the fact that we thought Kleinfeld’s didn’t deliver the veil. But that was only for a brief moment in time (about 2 hours) and we found it so …… whew!

But other than that …… it was wonderful.
And painful.
Which brings us to mingled feelings.

I was so thrilled for Daughter #3. And Son #4.

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And I loved every moment of being there with all of my children.
And Little Man.

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And my family and friends.
Plus the weather was A.Maze.Ing!


(Please note that I included the silent e, so that you would know the word was pronounced “maze” and not “maz”, but I know that it’s not there in the actual word “amazing”. That’s for all of you grammar nazis. Of which I am one.)

Anyway, we couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a wedding, let alone for an outdoor wedding.

I even managed to find a dress at the last minute that I actually liked. And I found a woman who could hem it at the ultra last minute. And she only charged me $10.
So there was that.

I felt really good the day of the wedding. I did’t feel emotional, I felt happy and excited.
And very blessed.
The wedding was at 5:00 and as two of my three sons walked me down the aisle, I still felt happy.
And then the pastor began the service.
Thankfully, before he got too far into it, I had a part to play, as did the mother of the groom.
We each got up in front and read a verse our children had chosen to be included in their wedding.

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My verse was Song of Songs (aka Song of Solomon) 8:7.
Which just so happens to be the verse from Jim’s and my wedding.
And which also just so happens to be engraved on my left wrist.

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“Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot sweep it away. If one were to give all the wealth of one’s house for love, it would be utterly scorned.”

I think Daughter #3 doubted that I’d make it through the reading without breaking down.
I told her that I’d be fine.
And I was.
100%.

I didn’t even trip walking from or back to my seat.
Props for me.

I was still doing well.
And then the age old wedding theme was introduced.
You know, that whole, “till death do us part” thing.
Not exactly those words, but you know what I mean.

The pastor joked about the two of them, being old one day and sitting in rockers on their front porch, remembering their wedding.
And I lost it.
Because …… well, because.
It would be wonderful if we all got to become old and sit on the porch with our most-loved person.
But there you go.

Fortunately Son #2 was sitting next to me and he either had his arm around me securely, or he held my hand tightly for the entire ceremony.
Especially during the vows.
Where again that “till death” subject popped up.
I love my sons.
And I love how they want to protect me.
Even when they can’t.

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So my feelings of happiness mingled with my tears.
Tears of grief for Jim’s huge absence.
Tears of fear that Daughter #3 may one day feel what I’ve felt.
Tears of desperation as I prayed over and over, “Please let him live a very, very long time.”
Tears.

My heart was full and yet breaking at the same time.
Happiness and grief.
Love and loss.
Joy and fear.

But all of the happiness, love and joy lasted longer than the feelings of grief, loss and fear.
As soon as they were pronounced husband and wife and turned to show us the joy on their faces, I felt nothing but love and joy for them.

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The rest of the night was a blast.

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The food was fabulous, the dancing was fun and everyone celebrated love.
Which was the whole reason we were there.

God’s love for us.
Jim’s love for me.
My love for him.
That’s what began all of this.
Love.
Pure and simple.
And wonderful.
Forever and ever.

 

Love not only brought about mingled feelings, but it’s brought about shifting sands.

I’ve been house hunting in Waco for a couple of months now.
I want to be closer to my children.
Five out of six (or rather …… six out of seven) live much closer to Waco than to Houston.
And then there’s Little Man.
And the future foster children of Daughter #2.
I want to live closer to him …… to them.
I want to be able to help Daughter #2 as she moves further into motherhood.

So I was thrilled last week to walk into the house of my dreams.
A house 15 minutes from her and Little Man.
A house I wasn’t even looking for, or so I thought.
It was completely different from everything else I had seen.
In fact, it wasn’t even on the market.
And now it’s mine.
Or it will be …… in about 30 days.

My Houston house is on the market.
I will miss it, to be sure.
But not enough to stay.

I will miss the community I’ve lived in for almost 25 years, without a doubt.
But not enough to keep me here.
I will love this place and the friends we made here …… for the rest of my life.
I will treasure most of the memories from here in my heart forever.
And I’ll come back to visit.
After all, it’s only a three hour drive.
Which hopefully will never be anything like a certain infamous “three hour cruise”.
I mean, we do have cell phones now.
Real ones …… not made of coconuts.

So yeah.
It’s been an eventful month or so.
Mingled feelings.
Shifting sands.
Wonderful memories.
Hope for a fun future.
With plans for more wonderful memories.
And love.
Lots and lots of love.

And blessings beyond measure.

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P.S. I’m keeping my apartment in NY.
I’m not crazy you know.
Waco will definitely need to be balanced out by NY.
Or I will go crazy.
100%.

🙂

P.P.S.  All of the fabulous wedding pictures posted from this wedding were taken by Angela King in Austin.  I cannot recommend her highly enough.  You’ll find her web site here.