God’s love

Breath of life

Scout and Atticus enjoying the rain on the windows and bird watching.

I used to have a vibrant prayer life, I don’t know why it used to be easy to pray and now it isn’t. But praise? That has always been an easy thing for me to do. It’s a gift I’ve been given, not anything I did on my own. In the half-light, I thought of David and remember thinking, still mostly asleep, “he wrote himself comfort.” He wrote himself (or I should say prayed out) because really, before they were words, they were prayers. As I lay there reciting some Psalms I know by heart I fell into the most delicious of sleeps. I awoke later more refreshed than I have been for quite a while. I don’t have a lot of Scripture memorized but what I do has been so valuable during times before I fall asleep, or times of stress.

I awoke this morning the first time at around 6. It was dark and I heard the gentle patter of rain outside. My first words were “thank you God for the new day, let everything that has breath praise the Lord, squirrels, chipmunks, cows, chickens.” I don’t know why I thought of those particular animals, but I did. I guess because I thought of this crazy squirrel that we almost hit yesterday. I swear he went right through the wheels. It was the same road, and I assume the same squirrel I saw yesterday dart out to the middle of the same road and back. It’s a red squirrel and they are kind of crazy, (kind of like a little red cat I know) Not mentioning any names (Scout) we love him so.

Conjuring up the Christmas Spirit is always hit and miss and sometimes elusive. At certain moments throughout the day, it comes whispering in. I bought this book for myself, and I highly recommend it. It’s called “Let the Earth Receive Her King” by Alastair Begg. This is a passage I highlighted that gave me comfort this morning:

Whatever lies in our past or our present, we are never beyond being used by God to further His glorious eternal plan

This is my first Christmas retired, and I heartily recommend it. Not having to go anywhere in the mornings is like a dream. We put the Christmas tree up on the patio because (the kitten factor) and I love looking at the lights through the window as I sit and read. I can actually bake again since I have a real stove so that has been a real joy. Recently, we had our usual brunch at Grand Island Mansion, a treasure of the California Delta. When we were finishing up to leave, I was shocked, pleased and surprised to see my friend Darrell who was best man at my wedding and my husband’s best friend. They had moved to a neighboring state, and I hadn’t seen them in a few years. It was a great ending to a perfect morning.

It’s been a wonderful Christmas season full of joys, a few moments of melancholy, peace and overwhelming thankfulness for a God who loves us and strives with me each day despite my stubborn nature. Taxes and jury duty and life lurking round the corner but in all these things we are still more than conquerors. (Romans 8:37)

Merry Christmas to all and hope and blessings going forward to the New Year!

New Every Morning

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Lamentations 3:22

”It’s been a too long time, with no peace of mind and I’m waiting for the times to get better…….” Songwriter: Allen Reynolds

I was meditating on the Lamentations verse this morning and once again filled with thanksgiving that we have this living hope we can stand on. It’s a promise God offers us every single day. What a wonder, in this troubled world we live in. Where are the ready smiles on the street? It seems to me that people are burdened. Then, while watching the Olympics last night there was the commercial with that old Crystal Gayle song. Elaine said, “I Do Not Like that commercial, it’s so sad.” Yes it is, but it seems like an honest depiction of a lot of people’s lives right now. Nothing is getting cheaper, crime is everywhere. We have to really look to find the good. We open our phones in the morning and are assaulted with an endless barrage of whatever the media thinks we need to know.

When I get weary of it all, I usually go to YouTube funny animal videos to cleanse my mental palette.

This morning I prayed for the first time in the new shop. It was a short session but it was a breath of fresh air. I haven’t had a place of prayer in years. I know, we can pray anywhere and I do. Arrow prayers all day. But having a quiet place to go to without interruption is different. My prayer was one of gratitude that even though the world seems to be in chaos all around us. God’s mercies are new every morning. What a gift. I pray that it’s a reality in all our lives.

We thought we would never live here. In this park, I mean. We had another “senior” park all picked out but it just didn’t gel. And we got tired of waiting. When we moved in, our neighbor had quite a few negative things to say about the park and management in general. We thought at the time that he was being nit picky and ridiculous. Now he is gone (the park bought him out). By no means am I bragging when I say we have made this place gorgeous. And management has taken issue with some of our positive changes, while other resident’s places are falling down around them. Mind you, neither one of us has problems with rules, in fact that is part of why we moved here. But when the rules don’t apply equally across the board it doesn’t sit well.

But………we love our home, and we have no intentions of moving. Not to say it hasn’t been a bit discouraging. Oh well, we are living in a strange and broken world. So much is upside down. This is no surprise. The fact is, God knows it too. From the dawn of creation He knew everything that would happen. But He counted the cost and figured it was worth it. He saw that everything he made was good. Perfect in every way. But it was also no surprise to Him when we went after the one thing He told us not to. The lie just sounded so good.

One time long ago, Pilate asked Jesus, “What is truth?” Pilate didn’t even know truth when He was looking right at him. Do we? Anyway, the good news is still the good news. We can have that happy ending since Jesus didn’t back down from restoring all things, and us as well. The redemption that is restoring all things is alive. Because of Jesus, we can wake with hope every single day.

I remember that old hymn we used to sing long ago. “Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe, sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow.” We never should have stopped singing those songs.

Until next time, be blessed and keep looking up.

Finally Home

Bless the Lord, O my soul and forget not all his benefits: who forgives all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from destruction, who crowns you with loving kindness and tender mercies……Psalm 103:2-4

The Rumba is working its way around the house, and I have two little kitties nearby. They have finally settled after wrestling and bouncing off the walls for the past 3 hours. One is sitting in the decorative bowl on the table and one right beside him. When we got them, they both fit! “They” are Atticus and Scout, respectively, and a constant source of joy, having been cat less since Briggs died in 2020. 

This is retirement, the first week in. Several times over the past few days, I have found myself in a state of wonder at how incredibly blessed I am, how at peace, how content. On my first walk around the park where our new (refurbished) home is situated I dug out my old iPod and selected the playlist I used to walk Desert Harbor in Arizona. It was like I was home, really home. 

Living in a very small space for the past 8 years really makes you appreciate the everyday things. A new washer and dryer that we almost worshipped the first few weeks. No more laundromat! Our own garbage can, for another. We never used the can at Aunt’s house because she was very fussy about her garbage. 

I’m home, I’m home, I’m home and I never have to move again. What a feeling……I can scarcely describe it. God is so good. At first, we kind of poo-pooed this park. It wasn’t as “perfect and pristine” as we liked. We had our eye on another in a neighboring town. It was well-kept and the space rent was lower. There were a few that came up for sale but inside repairs would have been costly. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Elaine wasn’t sold when we looked at this place, but I secretly thought “I could live here.” There was a kind of strange room off the living room. Back in the day it might have been called a “family room,” separating both sides of the house. Elaine turned in circles and exclaimed, “What is this room?” I am happy to say that it has become a beautiful library. (Pictures to follow in another post) Wayfair is our new best friend. Of course, you have to build whatever you buy and thankfully Elaine is very talented. I was the assistant handing tools and fetching screws and bolts.

First, we made an offer which they didn’t accept. Then it fell through twice more. We made another offer, with concessions and it was accepted. 

Here’s another strange thing. Over and over, I have had this dream for years of two big closets. I just go from one to the other with a sense of amazement in the dream. Well, yes, you guessed it. I have two walk-in closets. Thank you, Jesus! The second walk-in has become the litter box room and storage for Christmas.

Each day, I wake up so very, very thankful. Life is good on a Sunday morning in June. 

But I have trusted in your mercy; My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. Psalm 13:5,6

Where there’s breath…..

“In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another day just like today, and there will never be another just like it again. Today is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows will proceed until the hour of your death. If you were aware of how precious today is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.”
— Frederick Buechner

Oh, how I miss this man’s words. His writing has been such a part of my life for so many years that it almost came as a shock that the biography was speaking of him in past tense. I had forgotten that he had died in 2022 at the age of 96. I have been enveloped in so many emotions since my brother’s death in April of this year and then both my parents before that in 2022, Buechner’s death slipped out of my consciousness. He had a way of capturing real life the way few writers can.

Lately, things have been better. Life is moving along the way it does, whether we are ready or not. And Christmas, (thank God) always comes. I don’t mean the Holiday and all the stuff, but the actual fact that is reality for us as Christian believers. That we have been redeemed. That God saw our sorry state and thought He needed to do something to bring us back from the brink. Bring us back to Him. We watched a movie last night, and it was really very sweet. It was about a group of British commuters on a train that saw each other every day but never really spoke to each other. One idealistic young man decided to announce that he wanted to throw a Christmas party for all the commuters (strangers really). Most thought he was crazy. The idea was slow to take off, and in the end, he was very discouraged and cancelled the party. But the miracle part of the story was when people actually started to talk and get to know one another.

Well, in true happy-ending Christmas movie magic, they all surprise him by luring him to his office and throwing the party anyway. It was a smashing success. One person on that train chose to take a risk and make a difference. It wasn’t easy but he was persistent. Until he wasn’t. It’s true of all of us. We give up on ourselves, we give up on each other. It seems the world is crazier than ever before. But one thing, well, one Person anyway, hasn’t changed. God still waits in the wings of our lives until we beckon Him in. What I always say is that:

Where there’s breath, there’s hope.

We don’t have to look far around here to see the hopelessness of humanity at every turn. The other day we were at the local post office and there was a woman wearing only a bra and skimpy leggings hugging the Christmas tree that was in the lobby. Everywhere we go we see encampments of desperation at every turn. The thought comes:

Christ came for a hopeless weary world such as this.

God didn’t wait until I cleaned up and made myself presentable to redeem me, He came when I was still a mess. A 13-year-old kid who nevertheless somehow knew that I needed saving. And I still do, every single day. We all do. I grasped my mom’s hand for strength back then, as I rose from the pew to walk the aisle down to the front to make my public declaration. Thankfully God doesn’t wait until we are good enough, because we never can be. He waits until we acknowledge our deep need to be redeemed of everything that is wrong within us that we are powerless to change.

And that’s the good news that is still good news to ALL the people. I love how the angels said to the Shepherds, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which will be for ALL people.” And all we have to do is believe it, embrace it, live it. And each day is another opportunity to start over. Yesterday might have been a disaster, but today is a new day. Chaos certainly reigns down here, but Christ came for this kind of world. And we can have His peace today.

Every year it seems like I miss the first two Advent Sundays and this year was no exception. I feel bad about it, but there it is. This has been a hard year. God knows my heart and he knows yours. He knows we are all just doing the best we can down here. Sometimes we just need to give ourselves a break. Slow down, breathe easy, especially this time of year. Things can be left undone, but people can’t.

Finally, Christmas means that we celebrate because there is always something worth celebrating. Even with all the conflicting evidence we see around us in the world today, our world was and is, redeemed once and for all. Starting with the Manger.

In His peace, Lori

Saving Cherie

This process of going through my brother’s belongings has been a long process and extremely difficult. After a few weeks of going through mountains of stuff, I discovered it would be an impossible task. It was with incredible feelings of relief and gratitude when my friend Teresa, along with her husband Hal graciously accepted the task of doing the estate sale. There were weeks of hard work and dump runs before the sale could even take place.

When our parents passed away my brother told me not to worry about the rest of their things. (I soon found out where they all ended up.) So that had to be gone through as well. Finally, it was the weekend of the sale.

I stayed away and let the experts handle it and handle it they did. Way beyond my expectations. We had agreed that what was left would be dumped or given away free. Ready to be taken out, amongst the box of my niece’s old dolls, I exclaimed to Elaine, “There’s my Cherie doll!” I had known she was there somewhere because I knew my mom had saved her for me. She was dirty and disheveled, her hair patchy and matted. The box was carried out along with all the other stuff with a “free” sign on it.

It was the next day, and I was in the shower getting ready for work. Grief can be irrational and sneaky and shows up at odd times. I thought of Cherie outside in that box and I remembered my long ago love for her. I remembered her two-piece blue outfit and her perfect short blonde hair and the words she said when I pulled her string. And I am crying all over again as I write this. And it makes no sense and yet it makes perfect sense. It’s kind of like when you lose someone you love and you are too busy to cry trying to be strong for everyone else, and then a year later your cat dies, and you are submerged in grief for weeks.

Elaine heard me crying and asked what was wrong. I said, “I’ve got to go get Cherie and I have to get to work!” Best friend that she is, she dragged herself out of bed and drove across town hoping and praying she’d still be there. And she was, on the very bottom of the box!

As I drove to work, I kept thinking about that little doll. And then I heard the Holy Spirit whisper six words……..“I have called you by name.” As tears rolled again, I thought of myself in the “free take it” box. And of the God who called me by name long ago and pulled dirty, disheveled forgotten me out of that box.

Isn’t that what God wants to do for every one of us if we will only let him? Isn’t the Christian life kind of like one long series of God reclaiming us when we’ve forgotten where we came from and who we truly belong to?

There was no question, saving Cherie was crucial. Saving her was about reclaiming a part of myself, a part of my life that seemed so innocent, so simple. Before all the adulting. Before all the misgivings, misunderstandings, and miscommunications that are all part of growing up and growing older. In remembering how I loved her; I remembered how God loves me still.

I received the text and a picture at work. Elaine had put Cherie next to her in the seatbelt and I had to laugh to myself. My day felt redeemed and so did I. That night Cherie got a bath, a new outfit and hat to hide the bad hair. It will always be a cherished memory now. Us at Walmart going through all the baby clothes and finding the right one. The Tutu was a must.

Someday soon she may on the “doll bench” in my aunt’s spare room, but for now, she has a place of honor in the driver’s seat of the motorhome. And if it’s a little crazy having a doll in here, so be it.

Life and grief can be extremely crazy at times.

Stages…….

As writers, we always want to make sense of things by organizing the chaotic jumble of thoughts that are swimming around in our heads/and or hearts. Getting those onto the page is a different story. In our fantasies the words flow freely. Most of the time this doesn’t happen. My Dad used to paint watercolor, and I think probably the creative process of that is somewhat similar. I am sure he had an idea in his mind of what the finished product would look like. What my mom would think was beautiful many times ended up with a big black “X” across it, tossed in the garbage. Ending up with something not sounding ridiculous and trite to our inner ears is somewhat of a miracle. But I digress…..

I needed to get away for at least a few days and we made arrangements to stay right on the beach in Monterey, near Cannery Row, the inspiration of many of John Steinbeck’s writings. Usually, I find my rhythm of peace right away on the ocean. This time it took a day. It concerned me, because I felt maybe I just wouldn’t get there at all. The second day it all changed. Thankfully. We had 4 wonderful days of great meals, walking for miles and blessedly cool weather with the sun breaking through the coastal fog most days. We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium which was packed with families and kids jockeying for position at the viewing windows, but it’s massive enough we saw everything we wanted to see. Once again, I was overwhelmed with God’s imagination. I mean, just the jellyfish alone!

It was just what we both needed.

I continue to deal with the stages of grief at the loss of my brother. I am still kind of in the disbelieving phase of settling into this new reality of being the last of my original family left standing. It’s a strange new world. Part of navigating through grief is the self-evaluation of asking the questions: Did I love enough……Did I love at all…..Did I tell them I did…..When was the last time I told them I loved them……or hugged them? Why can’t I remember? Part of that is normal. Endless recriminations about what I did or didn’t do is not. I rest in the many years of memories we all shared together. And there are many.

As I was writing this, I remembered a snatch of a Bible verse: “Strengthen what remains.” And right on the heels of that was another thought: “Love who remains.” That I can do. And who remains is God, who is always present, and that also includes myself and the loved ones around me. And the lessons we can all relearn from loss, (mine or anyone else’s.)

Call more, stop by more, pay attention more, help more, hug more, love more. Even if you get rebuffed or rejected. In essence, love more like Jesus loved. I want to get to the end of my life with as few regrets as possible. That’s my goal anyway.

All this blather to say. I am moving forward, I am sifting through feelings and thoughts and memories and learning to adjust to this new reality. The best thing we can all do is the best we can. Live life. This morning was peace. It was picking the neighbors’ tomatoes, watering before the heat sets in, watching E. work on the boat, feeding the cats double just because they will be very hot outside today. Breathing in the miracle that is life. I close with this thought, in Heaven there are no regrets. And Revelation 21:4, He will wipe every tear from their eyes and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning or crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Book recommendations: One of the books I am reading right now is called Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxes. It’s not a book you sail through, (there are 20 pages of notes alone) but it’s very inspirational. (And historically accurate) A brilliant theologian, Bonhoeffer should be as well-known as Anne Frank, or Schindler but sadly, he’s not. He died in prison after being arrested by the Nazis for among other things, trying to rid the world of Hitler. Another I’m just about to start is The Collected Regrets of Clover. Jury is still out on that one.

I continue to feed my brother’s two feral cats. They come out from their hiding places immediately and are very grateful to get the food. I know he would be happy to see that.

Until next time, thank you for the therapy, dear readers if you are still with me. I hope you know that I pray for every one of you. Lori

Welcome February!

……..the way is cleared, and we can go on……(a snatch from my journal)

And it’s February!!!! That means my daffodils will make an appearance soon. The ones I take a picture of every year are popping up and I can see little bits of yellow poking through the magnificent green. Also, a dear friend has passed, and I still can’t believe she is gone. None of us can. She was ninety-three and she was done with life, but we were not done with her. I know this life is just a vapor of time, a slice of eternity, but Annie, you were just so darn alive. Today would be the day you would have driven here in your Prius to visit my aunt. Your absence is felt keenly.

We miss you so……

Here is a picture of her (on the right) along with my aunt and another friend, all of them 90 or older.

I’ve been reading the book of Job in the Message version. I have always loved that particular book, but the Message expresses it in such a clear and simple way.

God answering Job:

“Why do you confuse the issue? Why do you talk without knowing what you’re talking about? Pull yourself together Job! Up on your feet, stand tall! I have some questions for you, and I want some straight answers. Where were you when I created the earth? Tell me, since you know so much! Who decided on its size? Certainly, you’ll know that. Who came up with the blueprints and measurements? How was its foundation poured, and who set the cornerstone, while the morning stars sang in chorus and all the angels shouted praise?

At first it seems like God is very hard on Job but in the end, God sides with Job and not his friends. So much so that God addresses Eliphaz (bad friend) in exasperation. He turns to him and says:

“I’ve had it with you and your two friends. I’m fed up! You haven’t been honest either with me or about me–not the way my friend Job has. So, here’s what you must do. Take seven bulls and seven rams and go to my friend Job. Sacrifice a burnt offering on your own behalf. My friend Job will pray for you, and I will accept his prayer.”

Thank you, Jesus, that we are done with THAT messy business.

Death swallowed up by triumphant Life! (Jesus) Who got the last word, oh Death? Oh, Death, who’s afraid of you now? 1 Corinthians 15:55

Do Words Still Matter?

What words could I add? 

In light of all the suffering going on in the world right now, what words could I possibly add that would make any difference at all? It’s a question that writers everywhere ask. The answer, thankfully, always comes back the same, and has throughout history. Words matter a great deal because the written (or spoken) word will always have tremendous power to change. Even if that change is a barely detectable shift in the heart or soul. And there will always be readers. In my formative years, there were no computers, no iPhones. We had each other. Real faces, real places. And the things we read in books. We had no choice but to use our imagination. 

Flash forward to 1996. I started work at Intel, Corp. For 20 years I worked alongside many others deep within the heartbeat of the technological age. Together, we built the chips that made it all go. I remember back then people said we would be living in a “paperless” world. And now, in 2022 we are drowning in more paper than ever before. And thankfully, bookstores have not become obsolete. Libraries are still being funded. All is not lost. 

When you look around at our current world situation, it would be easy to lose hope. Character seems scarce. Crime is off the charts. And yet, we honor a beloved Monarch who has passed into glory. We honor and pay tribute to Queen Elizabeth because she embodied great character and values not readily seen much anymore. She had the role thrust upon her in her youth, and instead of resenting it, she rose to the challenge and continued to do so for 70 years. Splendidly. 

Also as Americans, after 21 years we must pause, at least at some point in our waking moments today and remember 9/11. We all remember where we were that day. 

On a more personal note, we have just gone through a massive heat wave here in California and yesterday we were released at last and out from under the 100 plus temps for the first time in several days and weeks. For quite a few days we have been hotter than Arizona which is very rare. 

Just being able to take a walk without sweltering was like a miracle. There is something so redeeming in it. Getting out, off the phone, away from the barrage of voices that can so often cause unease and weariness of soul. Come away with Jesus on the mountain and pray. Even He, being God knew how important that was. 

And read. If you haven’t read Ray Bradbury’s “Dandelion Wine” I wholeheartedly recommend it. It will restore you to all things good, worthwhile, precious and true.  Most of all, read the Word that matters more than any others. His. Peace and Blessings, Lori

Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

Psalm 119:105

He is risen! (and so can we)

A motley crew. The rock band spelled it differently so I don’t think that will land me in copyright jail. It’s just really the perfect term for all of us. Jesus most trusted friends all scattered when He was arrested. Matthew 26:56 says: “Then all the disciples deserted Him and fled.” Each of us is gets to rise up this morning; we have another chance at life and a myriad of choices in one 12 hour day. 

Just getting up sometimes is hard, isn’t it? But we get to, today. And we will continue to have victories and failures, sometimes simultaneously. We will curse the driver in front of us and then apologize to God for our language and our anger flare ups. We will act like the disciples did when they gave up on Jesus. 

I went to place fresh flowers on Mom and Dad’s grave yesterday and I saw people laying on the ground next to their loved ones resting place. I saw Easter eggs scattered around graves, bottles of adult beverages (which always seems strange to me) and food. I saw sorrow. 

Then I thought of the words of the two Angels in Scripture here as described in Luke 24:

“While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; He is risen! Remember how He told you, while He was still with you in Galilee.” 

Why do we seek the living among the dead? It’s human nature, I guess. Why do we as a human race continue to choose things like war, addictions that wage war on our bodies and souls, death instead of life? 

But because of Jesus final victory over death, we too can rise to new life. PERMANENTLY. That is what makes Easter the most important event in human history. We have the victory because when Jesus rose from the grave He had the final word. Because of this, though our bodies may rest in the ground, our souls reside in eternal home with Jesus. 

Until the time God says enough is enough, and 1 Thessalonians 4:16 comes to pass, we rise. And because of Easter. We rise with hope! 

Letting Go

    It continues to feel strange, this new journey I’m on. In 2021, Dad passed on August 19, and then Mom passed 44 days later on October 2. At first, there was the flurry of activity involving the memorial for Dad, then we barely turned around and the same had to be done for Mom. We were taxed out emotionally and other ways too. We said our goodbyes with family and friends and things kind of leveled out. Then the house cleanup began…….(lots of buried emotions, plowing through and just getting it done.) 

    Now the house sale. More emotion. More tears at unexpected times. I recorded certain sounds on my phone that I will never hear again which I may keep or not down the road. The sound of the old door locking/unlocking, the funky doorbell that for 40 years has sounded the same, and the closet doors my Dad installed that have been off kilter (also for years). 

    But here is what I hear that can never be recorded except in my memory, and there they will stay. The sounds of hundreds of gatherings over the years. The October parties I used to plan with Mom, every backyard Birthday party with all the neighborhood “gaggle” of kids we played with. The fresh pot of coffee that was ever brewing for all kinds of friends and neighbors. Faces I still see so clearly: Mrs. Nystrom next door coming down the steps with a freshly made cake (from scratch of course). Mrs. Day from across the street with a loaf of something healthy and homemade. Ladies gathered around my Mom’s table, all strong women, each with their own heartaches and joys. I can see them, their faces aglow and the walls echoing their laughter. Praying hands in a circle. 

    So much love, so much grief, so much life. And now all is stripped bare, devoid of any life but flowing with memory. This little tract home was Mom and Dad’s pride and joy. It was the model home of the neighborhood complete with the ugliest rock wall anyone’s ever seen. My Mom used to curse those rocks because when she vacuumed, they would come loose. When my cousins came to say goodbye to the house, a couple of them wanted to take a pebble from the infamous wall. I told them, “Just get the vacuum out!” 

    The funny thing is, they had to find tools to pry them off, almost as if they too, were reluctant to say goodbye. And if those little stones could talk, I’d like to think they would whisper back all those prayers my Mom said for me as we held hands before the fireplace, when going to school was so, so hard for me. 

    I know walls, (and stones) can’t talk, but I do think they remember.