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Saturday, April 30, 2011

Testosterone and fine white hair on the face...

I wrote and wrote last night about what was on my mind...laughing as I wrote it.  It was funny and since it was No Filter Friday, it was without filters.  But, as I went to publish...it was gone.  Totally gone except for a few sentences when I started.  I thought about starting over but Jim and I had decided we were going out to sit on a bar stool somewhere so...no No Filter Friday.

The weather didn't happen the way the forecasters said...imagine that...so there will be baseball today in a place called Larry Walker field.  My younger son has a double header at 9 and 11:30. 

Like I have said before, the testosterone level in my house is ramped up higher that it has ever been.  The boys are bonafide teenagers with voices that have and are changing, ripe white pimples on noses at times, and feet that are getting huge.  My stock line for that when they say they  need new shoes because they have big feet..."You boys know what they say about big feet?" to which my older boy laughs and says, "Big socks, Mom".  There is so much testosterone that even I am growing a beard now.  Not just the mustache that needs the wax but I can see fine white hairs on my cheeks and on the edges of my jaw.  Not a pretty site for a gal my age but I am trying to roll with it.

Last night after we got home from some bar stool sitting, the boys, including their father, and I were sitting at the kitchen table.  We were bantering around about this and that when my older son started to talk about getting taller than his father.   It is common knowledge that my older son does not eat vegetables and never has.  I gave up that fight a long time ago but my dear husband thinks it would be a good thing for him to eat more veggies.  I don't disagree but I am not going to fight or harp on it.  Jim will and does on occasion.  Anyway, they got into talking about growing and my husband said, "If you would eat more veggies, you would be taller than me in no time." My son replied," Dad, I am gonna be taller than you soon because when you get old you start shrinking."  I could not let that go...I just couldn't.  The combo of the bar stool sitting and the NFF theme of my day led me to respond,"  He already has a few things that have started to shrink...if you know what I mean!"  After some pretty good laughter...my oldest said to his brother, "We gotta get out of here" and my youngest said,"Mom, I think you just scarred me for life."  Shortly thereafter they left to take care of the neighbors dog and Jim and I laughed for a long time.

When we stopped laughing, I told Jim that he probably should have married someone with more class.  He agreed and told me that is wasn't so much that I needed more class but I need to learn to shut the refigerator.  The temp was in the 40's.  You see, one of the things he really liked about me when we married 20 something years ago was that I would say what was on my mind.  I guess that isn't so attractive coming from a chubby, 46 year old with a beard. 

I guess No Filter Friday wasn't so bad after all and I can tell with the sun shining and the boys home...it could turn into Sassy Saturday if you give me the stage.

Anyhooo...I hate that but it sounds funny here,
We'll tawk tommorrow,
I love you all,
Terry

Thursday, April 28, 2011

The big doins' around here...

First of all I want to thank the folks that told me how much they love my writing...I don't even know what to say.  I am humbled!

So, I have been working at the hospice for about a month now and I have to say...I love it.  I love knocking on the door and hearing, "Oh, Terry is here" and then sitting on the couch or at the table and just talking.  "Do you want coffee?" I always respond, "Do you have some made?"  If they do, I always have a cup of coffee.  I love that.  While I have coffee, I hear what is going on with Mom or Dad or the patient and I get to love them up while I talk.  It seems to fill a part of me that I need to keep at a certain level.  Just good stuff.  But...I digress and I am not going to get into the death thing again.

The Queen is coming home for a few weeks before going to her summer job.  I am so excited.  I am sure she has changed, grown up after a year at college. I know it will be different but she is such an amazing person...all the things I wish I was.  She is taking off for the summer to be a camp counselor in the mountains of Colorado.  She is an avid outdoorswoman and a big time hiker...it should be a great adventure. 

Spring is starting to appear...ever so slightly.  In the mountains of Colorado, we don't plant anything outside until after memorial day.  The weather today was awesome...felt like late spring but I have been fooled for many years, so we grow stuff inside until the end of May.


My dudes are being dudes and playing baseball.  Things have changed in the house without the Queen... I am the only female and my estrogen levels are waning while the testosterone is spiking.  Last night, my youngest let the dogs in for me and gave them a bone...a milk bone.  The dogs ate them at the speed of light and then one barfed.  We were all sitting at the counter in the kitchen and I started to yell at them to clean it up...clean it up while starting to gag.  The boys...two plus the big one(dad)...didn't move and watched as the other dogs licked it up.  Then, they engaged in a ten minute conversation pretending to be the dogs talking about the puke.  "Hey, thanks for the puke...I was hungry" and comments like that.  Girls just don't do that!

Today was career day and my youngest son went to work with his father.  After work, he started telling me what his father does for a living.  "Wow" I said, "I didn't know that!"  Interesting because either I just haven't been interested in what my husband does or he hasn't told me.  Either way...it's kind of interesting to hear what he really does do...but sad that I really don't know.

So, here in Conifer, I am waiting for spring.  It has been beautiful today and is supposed to be nice tommorrow and then more snow for the weekend.  Beautiful...   Maybe I will get my grass seed out and spread it.  After we spread the seed, Jim will get the tractor and get me a load of manure from the neighbors horses and I will get the boys to help spread it.   Maybe, we will let the dogs off of their leashes and they will start to eat the manure.  I will be the only one yelling at them to stop while the boys laugh until they cry and then pretend they are the dogs talking about how good it tastes.  At some point, I will start to laugh too because it is kind of funny. 

Hopefully, the work outside  gets us some green stuff in the front of our house that can pass as grass...not sod...but grass.  After that, I will dream.  Dream of planting a lilac in the front yard so I can smell the lovely fragrance.  Doesn't hurt to dream...does it?

So that is the doins' around here.  Working, baseball, testosterone, waning estrogen and nasty dogs...all part of the family.  Tommorrow is Friday...I love Fridays and I am already thinking about the post for "No Filter Friday II" as I have alot of things on my mind I need to just figure out.

So there...and as Ms. Moon and I used to say in college...La di da!
We'll tawk tommorrow,
I love you all,
Terry

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

From Anonymous...

Terrific work! This is the type of information that should be shared around the web. Shame on the search engines for not positioning this post higher!      Anonymous...

I read this the other day and didn't know what to think.  This comment is obviously not meant to be about how wonderful my writing abilities are...as a matter of fact, I would say that I understand that Ms/Mr Anonymous thinks just the opposite.

I spent quite a bit more time thinking about the comment than I should have.  But...the commenter does speak some truth, although it is in a passive-agressive way.  Who really does want to read about me and all of my thoughts?  Who cares about that stuff but me?

The thing about blogging is...it is a personal decision to write as it is a personal decision to read someone elses's writing.  Why bother reading a post if it does not interest you? 

Newsflash:  Everyone's writing is not gonna interest you every day.  Some days are better than others and I invite you to read on.  On the days that my writing is just not doing it for you...X out!  There are good days and bad days!!!

It's like today...I went to visit a patient of mine that is dying.  He is an amazing man and in just a short time of knowing him...I already adore him.  He is smart, real and knows what is ahead of him "life-wise".  We spent time visiting about his problems...pain, sleep, exhaustion...what ever he wanted to talk about.  We came up with ideas together  and he chose some and told me he wasn't interested on others.  Finally, I said, "What else can I do for you...what can I help you with?"

He was sitting on the couch and he turned to me and looked over his glasses.  He waited for what seemed a long time and his lip began to quiver.  Finally it stopped and he spoke with a clear voice..."Today is a good day.  I feel pretty good, I am not in pain and I can eat.  I'm still in my home and that's great.  I have good days and bad days, and I will take days like this whenever I can."

I admire that kind of thinking, that strength.  When I was young, I thought there was control over life's ups and downs.  I learned over the years that I can do the best I can and thats it.  So like my lovely patient, if today is a good day...then yee-haa...and if tommorrow is not, I'll deal with it the best I can. 

I can truly say, today was a good day, for  my patient and for myself.  So if you don't like my writing...I hope you haven't gotten this far.  This life is too short to use the good days for things that you don't think are good.

We'll tawk tommorrow,
I love you all,
Terry

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Sunday and it feels like home...

I am lying here on the bed in my office...listening to Garth Brooks talk about his friends in low places with the toes of my left foot buried in the chest fur of my dog.  She is warm and twitchy and I can feel her rythmic breathing beneath my toes.  It's snowing outside and it has been a grayish white all day.  I cooked and served today.  I served at the Easter breakfast at church and then came home and made an amazing dinner.  It was turkey, velvety smooth mashed potatoes, dressing with sausage and veggies, vegetables and rolls.  I opened jars of gravy but also made my own from the the drippings of the turkey.  The food was amazing and so was the company. 

The Queen invited two friends from school...smart girls...one from Maine and one from Washington DC.   My son also
invited his girl so the gang was all here.  My ducklings and their special friends.  After  dinner,  my husband and I did the dishes and marveled about how lucky we are.

Easter Sunday, Sunday funday and the sabbath all wrapped up in one day.   Nothing terribly exciting but not too shabby either.  Jim is taking the girls back to college right now and my youngest is at my computer doing his homework.  I am humbled by the simplicity of the day and its truth, comfort and warmth.  To me, home sometimes feels like a job, more things to get done and more people to take care of  but today...home feels like home and that is a great feeling.

We'll tawk tommorrow,
I love you all,
Terry

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Somewhere over the rainbow...

I am finally in my office...with my music on and my glass of pink wine.  It is Saturday evening here in Conifer.  Holy Saturday...but I am not going to the service.  I can feel the Holy Spirit right here with me...in my office listening to Jimmy Buffet sing "Brown Eyed Girl". 

I feel myself slipping back into my chaotic, unaware life again.  I don't quite know why, but I am.  I ran from thing to thing last week feeling that familiar feeling of failure.  The feeling that I am on a treadmill and I am a small rat that just needs to keep going...looking in front of me and moving my legs but not seeing where I am or what I have just done.  Not experiencing life.

I should and do know better.  I can't remember much about my last kid...I have very few pictures and the one that sticks in my mind is him in his car seat going from activity to activity.  I don't remember his toothless smile or his little idiosyncrasies...although I am sure he had them because he has them now.  I was busy and I was getting things done.  I didn't get the important stuff done though...like experiencing and remembering.

I am sitting here thinking about how to do it all.  As I sit in my office...I hear my son playing his guitar and singing Bob Seger with my husband...."Here I am, back on the road again, here I am up on the stage, here I am playing the star again...there I go...turn the page" and I feel that contentment that I haven't felt all week as I have run from thing to thing.  Sure, the wind ensemble was fed, and the career fair at the middle school had me to represent nurses, and yes, I have some lovely patients to take care of in their homes but...

Then I saw the little ukelele that my son talked me into buying him...sitting in the livingroom next to the guitar and the saxophone.  I remember the first song he taught himself on the guitar, "Somewhere over the Rainbow" and how proud he was of himself.  I remember him playing the song for a guest and how he struggled and we cheered him on.  But most of all, I remember the feeling of contentment...of sheer joy at what was happening in my little insignificant world at that time. 

My little insignificant life...somewhere over the rainbow..where dreams really do come true.   A life with three teenagers and a husband and dogs and a rabbit and a gecko.  A life where I have the privelage of taking care of people in their most intimate moments, hearing the sound of guitars, ukeleles, saxaphones and baritones just when I feel like my head is going to explode.  I get to clean a house that is too big and wash more than enough clothes to wear, to watch my sons play baseball and where my daughter comes home from college and brings her friends because she wants to.  A life where I have a husband that still wants to kiss me and talk to me...to go out on dates on Friday nights and hold my hand after 22 years. 

Living the dream...somewhere over the rainbow...where dreams really do come true.  I forget that at times...alot of times and get caught up in the busy work of life.  The chores and commitments...I forget to look people in the eye and smile.  Last week was a fine example and I am ashamed.  That is not who I am or want to be.  So that old blog about being intentionally authentic...
it's time to read that one again and then live it. 

Yes, I feel more authentic and more like me already!!!
We'll talk tommorrow...yes..tommorrow!
I love you all,
Terry

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Goings On in my World

Last Saturday night was the prom...my son and his girl got all dressed up and went.  They looked great and I was so proud of them.  I would post a picture but I no longer seem to be able to post pictures.  Oh well...



Sunday went by with our usual church schedule and then the prom boy slept most of the day away.  I, of course, was up alot of the night because I was nervous about having a kid out all night...so I napped on Sunday as well.

Then came Monday.  I had recieved a call last week from my medical provider..."need to get additional views...your mammogram was abnormal"
I made the appointment for Monday at 1:05 and by the time I got there, my heart was in my throat.  I know the odds and the statistics and what to do to avoid breast cancer.  But...there are no guarantees and I also understand that.  I got there early and they called me in.  I put on the drape and bellied up to the mammogram machine.  The technician was kind and gentle but there is nothing fun about pushing up against a flat metal machine and then having a stranger grab you and pull on you...then rachet down the top and flatten you.  She would take a picture and then go over to the computer, look at it, and then start again.  It had to be 5 times before she decided to take the pictures to the radiologist.  Then she told me that I would have an answer  before I go home and I would know what way this was going.  That conversation scared me to death.  OK, I thought, I will be fine.  I will handle what ever she says and I will be brave but I could feel my heart in my throat.  I sat there with the cape on for what seemed like an eternity.  I looked at my phone, I dialed my husband, I took my shoes on and off and then I just put my head in my hands and waited.  I heard her approach my curtained dressing room and she said...Terry, you can go...we figured out what we saw and we will see you next year.  I quickly put my bra and shirt on and ran out of the building.  When I got outside, I started to cry.  I was so scared...so vulnerable and so aware that it could have been me that got the bad news. 

I am getting to the age when you hope they don't find anything.  I also have a wild imagination and being a nurse, I know way too much.  Every ache and pain on me is possible cancer and every test is going to be something bad.  I just know it.  I don't even like going to the dentist because my teeth are falling apart too.  But, I got through the tests and feel like I dodged a bullet with this check up.

On Tuesday, I worked and then had meetings to go to.  I came home and dropped off my youngest and on the way in, the neighbors dog must have ran out and bounced off of my car.  I wasn't sure I hit her but I knew I hit something.  Needless to say, that was unplanned.  Sadly, she needed some surgery and is recovering at this time.  Great, huh? 

Yesterday, I worked, went to the chiropractor...my back is killing me...then went to the lenten service at church. I got home and went upstairs to bed and put the TV on. It was snowing so baseball practice was cancelled for my older son.  When he showed up early, I yelled at him to come up and see me and he jumped on the bed and we watched TV together.  Just him and me and George Lopez.  Funny show and funny teenager.  Good stuff after this week of ups and downs.

So now it is the end of Thursday.  My sister is visiting from NY tommorrow and I am very excited.  We will eat, drink and probably watch the boys play baseball.  I can count on that in my world during April, May and June. 

I'll try not to hit anymore dogs, not worry about my aches and pains, and enjoy my sister.  As I experienced this week, you never know when it is your turn for health issues or adversity...and at one point or another, it will be my turn.  And that's just gonna be what it is.  I hope I can handle it with grace and bravery but at this point, I am not sure...and that's OK.

We'll tawk again soon,
I love you all and have missed you,
Terry 

Friday, April 8, 2011

I'm Home...

I am home.  I am back at a job I love dearly.  It was my favorite identity after the identity of mother...I think it may even come before wife...maybe. 

I started back to work at my local home health/hospice on Tuesday.  I spent a half day learning what is new since I was there four years ago...when my soul was tired.  There are new computers, and machines and ways to access ports for chemo...new companies that you call for supplies and different ways to have them delivered.  I was stunned, "Have them delivered?" I said.  Yes, things have certainly changed.

I got a tour of the new building...it is beautiful and very different from the office that I worked at before.  I walked from office to office and got introduced...and each person either said, "Welcome back" or the one that touched me the most, "Welcome home."

I was pretty happy about being back but a little nervous about the new things...I am older and slower than I was four years ago.  Then I went out on a visit with one of the nurses that I have known for  years.  She is one of the finest nurses that I have the pleasure to work with.

We pulled up to the house and she gave me the scoop on the patient in a very professional way.  We grabbed the computer and knocked on the door.  I could see through the door that the daughter's face was strained.  As she opened the door and looked at this nurse, her face relaxed into a smile with relief written all over her face.  Her father needed help and we had come at just the right time.  I could sense the chaos in the house.  This nurse walked into the bedroom and began to work her magic.  All at once, the patient was in bed and being made comfortable.  Good, I thought, I would have done that.  Then, then next thing this nurse did made my heart sing.  She sat down next to this lovely man's bed, locked eyes, grabbed his hand and began to talk to him about what he was feeling.  "Are you hurting anywhere?" she said.  She went through the litany of questions and he answered all of them.  Finally, with a peaceful and kind face, she asked him, "what can we do for you right now?" 
The exchange was why I love being a hospice nurse...in a nutshell.  To have the honor to care for human beings when I can use my gifts of compassion and love.  I was so moved by it all and so glad that my soul had healed enough to do this again.  It is what I am supposed to do.

I went to work today and there was a death.  I had the honor to attend it.  It was a "good" death.  Let's face it, death is never good.  We always think we are ready and that we will do fine and then that person that is part of our lovely quilt of life is no longer with us.  Yes, we have memories and they are in our heart and lovely things like that but in the beginning, it is hard and that is that.  But this lovely woman was older and she had a lovely family that cared beautifully for her.  They loved her until the moment she was gone.  She was peaceful, with her family and just went to sleep.  Doesn't get too much better than that.

I can only hope to be in a beautiful space with my family around, in no pain, loving them until the moment I am no longer here.  That would be ideal and that is my wish. 

The week has been a good one.  I have started a job that feels like home, had a quick visit with the Queen that included a dinner with hummus (I love that stuff) , spent time with my sons that I treasure, picked up a tux for the prom tommorrow, ordered a corsage for his girl, shopped at Costco, got crickets for the leopard gecko, and made it to my kickboxing class along with two aerobic classes this week.  Is my house clean?  No and I must say, with the way I am choosing to live my life...it is not going to be too clean for a long time.  But, I feel content and lucky...to feel like I am making a difference in my home as well as in the community.  For me, that is what it feels like to really be home.

So I lift my glass of pink wine to all of you,
For the difference we make in each others lives,
For the reminder to live a moment at a time because we have no guarantees,
For the love of families and friends,
And for  a good death...may we all have one!

We'll tawk tommorrow,
I love you all,
Terry

Monday, April 4, 2011

Life goes on...

 Spring break is almost over.  I still have two tired teenagers in bed with the curtains drawn trying to get the last moments of long sleep before the push of the last weeks of school.  Last week was quite a week.  I was alone all week...from Sunday night until late Friday night.  It was a long week and a lonely one.  I am pretty happy alone for about two nights and then I am so glad to see the group...I miss them alot.


The boys came home on Friday night...around 10 pm.  They had the time of their life in Mexico.  They built a house, hung out with the people and spent time counting their blessings.  My oldest son couldn't name one thing that was the best part...he loved it all.  They worked hard too.  They poured concrete and nailed walls together and hung drywall and mixed stucco...they played soccer in the dusty street and they played with kids at the orphanage.





Good stuff I say.  Meanwhile, back at the ranch...as my father used to say, life went on.  Dogs were let out every morning, and chased around the neighborhood when they ran away.  Fish were fed and rooms were cleaned.  Job interviews and Pap smears and mammograms were completed.    A funeral was attended and a bottle of wine was consumed.  Shoes were chewed and delivered to be repaired.  All before the boys made it home.

They hit the door at 10pm on Friday and all three were in different showers by 10:05pm.  Apparently they had gone without water all week and were pretty stinky.  I could tell by the state of the teenage faces that they had not seen much, if any water during the week...let alone soap.  My husband had one shower before the pipes broke and he was ready to be clean too.  The simple things in life...like a hot shower.  I know I take that for granted.

Saturday was a blur.  My husband moved from the couch to the chair most of the day.  We could hear different cadences of snoring in the different positions.  At one point, I woke him up to see if he wanted to be awake at all during the day and he muttered..."Just a few more minutes"...snorted and fell back into his coma.  I just left him there.  He finally woke up for dinner, ate, drank a beer, dealt some cards to play solitare and fell asleep on the couch again.  I guess he was pretty tired.

My oldest son and I had some unfinished business.  I bought some beautiful red carnations at the grocery store and we went to the cemetary.  We stood at the grave site in wonder...the earth was piled high, the flowers were on top of that, and his buddy was gone.  The Queen and I stood with him as he stared at the dirt, the flowers and held his head low.  He walked over and put the flowers on the mound of dirt and I watched and tears rolled down his face.  He got it...it's final...his buddy is gone.  I asked him if he wanted to pray...he said yes but could you, Mom?...so I did.  I thanked God for this sweet boy and asked for comforting angels to surround his parents and brother and begged for peace for Mac's buddy.  Then my son bent down, and took a rock from the dirt, rolled it around in his hand and put it in his pocket.  I didn't ask but I guess that's his way to remember...

We did our usual Sunday routine with church and got to have a great lunch with some of the Mexico group and a good friend.  We ate and drank and the mexico group relived their week.  It was good to hear.  They really did have a good time.

Then off to Boulder to drop the Queen off and see my son's favorite girl.  I was glad to see her too, honestly.  I have missed her being around.  We spent a couple of hours having dinner and talking about life.  They were just happy to be together and frankly, to see him with a smile on his face was just what I needed.  We went for frozen yogurt...for "Sunday Funday"...thank you Aaron Grider, and said our good byes.  We kissed the Queen goodbye and my boy walked his favorite girl to her dorm.  They walked holding hands and I could tell that they were glad to be together and sad to be apart for another week.

We headed home and he talked for the whole hour and one half trip.  He talked of mexico, his buddy, his girl, the prom, a tux, baseball and what he is looking forward to this summer.  I sat and listened...encouraged him to talk and hear his take on life.  It was the up for all the downs that have been going on these days.



I woke up this morning to this view.  There was snow last night, a dusting, and it makes the world look scrubbed clean.  Pikes Peak has its majestic white sweater on today.

Life goes on...I guess it has to...But it is never the same after tragedy.  It is different.  That is just what it is.  Things can and do change in an instant and we will never be the same.  But, we go on...we have to...what else is there to do?

We'll tawk tommorrow,
I love you all,
Terry






Friday, April 1, 2011

Too Young....

I haven't been writing much this week...or last for that matter.  I couldn't find the words.  Me...the person who never shuts up...couldn't find the words.  This morning, I made my pot of coffee, put on my favorite pandora station and thought about yesterday and the funeral of a lovely young man.

He was 17 and loved to snowboard.  During the slide show, it was hard to tell who was bundled up on a Ride snowboard sailing through the air.  It could have been any of the 17 years olds I know...good snowboarders, wearing helmets, going off of jumps and landing them. 

His youth leader at his church talked of his quiet sense of calm at every function and how he was a cornerstone of their youth group.  She talked of how they went to the Bahamas to do mission work, in Denver to help the Urban Ministries, and to the hurricane ravaged part of the US to help those folks.

He was in advanced math, sat with my son in class and generally did well in school.  He sounded like every teenager...every son that a mother wanted.  He was a good kid...no a great kid.  I couldn't help wonder why.

I sat in the service and looked around at my son's buddies.  They were all in tears...in disbelief that one of them felt enough pain to end his life.  You could see through the tears that they didn't understand and couldn't understand.  I watched his parents...devastated and beyond sad.  His father read a letter that he wrote to his boy.  He wrote of the things he looked forward to when he got a little older...of having a beer after a long day, of watching him fall in love, of taking a long road trip to see the United States.  Now, those things would not happen.  In an instant, everything changed.  His boy is no longer here.  His mother sat quietly...barely able to breath.  Simply done in.  The baby that came from her body was gone all too soon by his own hand.  How does one come to terms with that? 

All at once the funeral was over and we made our way to the cemetary.  I stood in the back and watched the group gathered.  His friends, all dressed in starched black shirts and pants, were so handsome, young with so much life ahead of them.  We should have not been there.  They all should have been in the powder at the ski area jumping off of cliffs and catching big air...not burying one of their own.  The pastor said the prayers to bury him and thanked the crowd.  One by one, the boys walked over to the casket and touched the shiny pine box with flowers.  Some drew a cross with their fingers, some blew a kiss and in tears walked on. 

Finally it was my turn and I walked up.  I walked to the top of the beautiful shiny pine box, bent down and whispered..."Mac already misses you...may you be at peace now" and walked on.  I walked to my car in a daze and when I sat in the seat, I started to cry.  I couldn't stop for a long time.  I started to think of all the times I had been at that cemetary and for whom.  Too many and too young.

He was such a regular kid...liked sports, outdoor activities, horses...his buddies and AC/DC.  He was a kid like mine and probably like yours and now he is gone.  He decided that he needed to go, I guess for some reason and made it happen.  I am so sad and scared and afraid and feel vulnerable for my boys.

The sun came up today and it was warm and breezy...beautiful.  I thought of this boys parents and the pain of trying to find what the pastor called a "new normal".  When he said that, I thought, nothing will ever be normal again.  Nothing.  I hope they find some peace...some comfort somewhere, from something that can  help them go on. 

Mac and I will go over tommorrow and visit the fresh grave and leave some flowers.  I am sure we will stand in silence until I ask why?  I will let Mac talk until he can't anymore.  Sadly though, I don't and won't have any answers.  There are no answers...just questions...and the main question that I will continue to ask is why?

Rest in peace dear Bryce...may you find the peace you were looking for. 
We love you and  will all miss you.

We'll tawk tommorrow,
I love you all,
Terry