Monthly Archives: October 2011



I’ve been thinking a lot lately about family. Those people that you share bloodlines with but not necessarily telephone lines with.

I can remember growing up and seeing my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Lloyd’s family gathered together at holidays and they were so full of joy and love and all I knew was I wanted that someday. A Christian family, 2 boys, 2 girls, and lots of love. Of course the Lord went beyond that, much like he always does, and gave me my own 5 children including a bonus boy!

It sort of jerked me into reality though when my 13 year old daughter remarked to me that parts of her family seem to be “breaking apart.” Bye-bye Norman Rockwell picture perfect family. For one, she sees only a fraction of her cousins. I always wanted my kids to grow up with cousins around, but this is most likely not going to happen. I don’t understand, but it is what it is. There is a quote that says “Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.” Harsh, but unfortunately a lot of truth to that. When you have tried to keep open the lines of communication, and there is no return of the same, you tend to give up.

I don’t mean to sound hard or callous but there is pain involved. The wounds scab over, slowly, with time, and before long there is a hardness about it. Not a godly thing to have, but it’s there nonetheless. Family is important, I do believe this, but sometimes it’s not the most important to every member. How I do not wish this to be the future for my own children and their families…..So……..

……..understanding that my children will one day fly the coop and grow up to have families and lives of their own, I would pray this for them: that they would not forsake the company of each other. To remember the silliness and the laughter of childhood, the bouncing of the trampoline, the pretend of “house,” and “school,” and “office.” The talking late into the night, one room next to another, or on the DS, chatting and drawing funny pictures. The singing; the harmony.

Knowing what adulthood family relationships can bring, sends me to the Father, asking for him to grant unity among them, now and always. Not without ripples, but without tidal waves of emotional pain, heartache, and distance.

My Aunt’s family is still very close, and as I’ve grown up I have seen that it is not without it’s troubles; it’s not perfect by any means. But it’s what love looks like. It’s singing Christmas carols around the living room, calling one another weekly, big holiday gatherings, showing up at the hospital-(there’s always been plenty of that in this family) going to birthday parties, recitals, and marching band contests to support the kids. It’s praying for and with one another.

It’s being there.

4 years.


What I miss about you, Dad:

The smell of Aqua Velva Aftershave.

Watching Food Network with you-and driving mom crazy with our concoctions and messy kitchen!

When you raised your bushy eyebrows at me, for whatever reason.

Laughing about how every stinkin’ time you ate a BLT sandwich, a tooth broke off of your dentures-true story!

Laughing with you. Period.

Your advice; from how to maintain our vehicles, to taking care of our home-and the fact that you could fix all the problems we had with both!

Hearing you sing old songs from the ’70’s in your baritone voice.

Watching you with my kids.

Teasing you  when I think about that snake you tried to kill in the backyard and it turning out to be a rubber snake! I couldn’t breathe for laughing so hard when mom called and told me that. It’s still funny!

2 words: Consort Hairspray.

Corny jokes.

The way you always treated my husband like he was your own.

Teaching you about the Internet-glad mom isn’t wanting me to do that! Good grief, I’d be bald.

Our garage talks.

Can’t believe it’s been 4 years. Sometimes I think about older people who still have their parents around, and feel sort of slighted. But then I think about the kids who haven’t even grown up yet who have lost their Daddys and realize how blessed I am to have had you for 28 years, even if it didn’t seem long enough.

Until we meet again….I love you Dad.