meet the siblings

Carol, me, Allen, Cam, Katie, Mary

i came across an old poem today and was reminded that one of the reasons i love my siblings so much is that they make me laugh until i cry. this piece is entitled 51 because it belongs in a series....

51

two sisters and a brother and i watched

dad sleep in his chair yesterday

his legs practically running a marathon

and

we began discussing restless leg syndrome

only we call it

jumpy legs

or

the heebie-jeebies

me –

it feels like i have strings inside my leg bones

that come out the soles of my feet

and

someone starts pulling on them

like a marionette

katie –

it’s like my blood is running backwards

but

not angry backwards

cam –

my toenails itch….

katie –

oh yeah

itchy toenails is a

big sign

of the heebie-jeebies

and the laughing-till-we-cried?

soul food

what do you love about your siblings?

it's how we make it (matthew 18:20)

the burning american question this weekend is how do people live after losing a child? i have to admit that i'm avoiding present-wrapping because i can't stop thinking about parents who have gifts under their trees for children who are no more. i haven't lost a child, but i believe it's the single worst event a human can face. my brother lost a child three years ago this week; i held a fifth-grader on the side of the highway ten days ago as she and her mother wailed for the crushed sister; and connecticut. oh connecticut. i wrote the piece below four days after losing my nephew.....it's how we make it.

the wind chimes, 
reminders of the futility of trying to stop time, 
played their merry tune 
even as the family gathered 
to mourn 
grief and her companion, exhaustion 
rode on their shoulders 
pressing them down 
making 
each step 
each word 
each breath 
labored 
but 
trudging through 
their new world 
their cameronless world 
their i-don’t-know-how-we’ll-make-it world 
they 
held 
hands 

always, always thanking him who gives all good gifts -

862. seeing my house in the daylight
863. the roches christmas cd
864. high school chorus concert
865. and middle school band
866. prayers of a nation for an entire community
867. and prayers of a community for a sick friend
868. texting with my husband (who hates texting!)
869. texting with my girl - we've been too out of touch of late....

linking with -

michelle for hear it monday, use it on sunday, ann for 1000 gifts, emily for tuesdays unwrapped,

joan for sharing his beauty, laura for playdates with god, jen for soli deo gloria shanda for on your heart tuesdays, emily for imperfect prose and kat for titus 2 tuesdays

on what really matters

talk in

sunday's small group
zeroed in on difficulties
financial ones
honesty
and her sister
vulnerability
joined us in our semi-circle
and i came away
certain
that money can't buy
faith
the reality of christ
peace
love
or
joy
and i came away
certain
that more than a pair of
cowboy boots
i want
these
and isn't this why
i have been counting
his gifts
to one thousand?

469. my girl, the one i mentor. so proud of her
470. chris, my husband. he refills my coffee cup. and cleans coffee beans out of the drain
471. hank, my older son, who reads to his younger cousins
472. jack, the younger, who elicits smiles from all around him
473. sunrise
474. living as a family of eleven for a week
475. grandparents for my kids
476. catching up with friends
477. time to read
478. new-to-me, old-timey recipes (might cook pig's feet tonight?!?!?!)
479. my family seeking joy
480. a new, made-for-me-by-my-husband shadow box
481. a cornhole tournament with the family. i came in 2nd! (pictured, with papa. the winner.)

linking with
michelle for hear it on sunday, use it on monday

ann for 1000 gifts

l.l. for on, in, and around mondays
richella for grace imparted
laura for playdates with god

jen for soli deo gloria
shanda for on your heart tuesdays
emily for tuesdays unwrapped

a three-tissue cry

dishes put away

ginger cookies gone all but one
brothers and sisters and parents
back at their own homes,
decorating for christmas and
preparing for the week ahead
but i wanted them to stay
dishes put away
ginger cookies gone all but one
but i want to
hang
on
tight
to this thanksgiving
tears came unbidden
during small group
this morning
(three tissues worth)
because
i want to
hang
on
tight
to this thanksgiving
but
the days, they spin on
the nights, they always come
and this thanksgiving is gone
with its dishes and ginger cookies
but the thanking i can't
set
aside

continuing to count his gifts to 1000:
425. packing boxes for operation christmas child with my family (pictured)
426. bonfires
427. s'mores
428. our small group
429. sons who wash dishes without being asked!
430. my husband who holds my hand
431. my girl, the one i mentor, who seeks wisdom
432. my mom who is a rock
433. 12-year-olds who think of others (read the story here)

linking with-

michelle for hear it on sunday, use it on monday

ann for 1000 gifts

l.l. for on, in, and around mondays
richella for grace imparted
laura for playdates with god

jen for soli deo gloria
shanda for on your heart tuesdays

what the wind knows

I'm thinking of my brother and his wife and two children today. I do every day, but today I'm thinking about them while I'm writing. They lost their twenty-two-year-old son on December 19, 2009. It still feels fresh to me, so I can't fathom what they are feeling. Yet they are standing. By the grace of God they are standing. I love them so much. Here's a piece for them.

50mph
today
is a
stareoutthewindow
day
snow covered roads
keep us home
but
the wind is
my true
captor
bending the trees
without
mercy
they try to
save themselves by
throwing off their
extremities
branches flying
hitting the
windows
today
is a
stareoutthewindow
day
the wind is
my true captor
trying to kill
the trees
they screech their
protests
echoing off the mountain
howling in the chimney
today is a
stareoutthewindow
day
the wind is
my true captor
torturing
the trees
they bend
nearly to breaking
but
will stand
at
the
end
of
the
day
today
is a
stareoutthewindow
day
i'm trying
to hear
the lessons
hidden in
the wind
how to
stand
at
the
end
of
the
day