Tag: Special

September 10th, for us, a gift. A Happy Birthday letter to my first-born son

No words.
Just awe and wonder.

Dear Chris, on your birthday. I remember the moment when you, as a brand new, new-born were handed to me for the very first time.

I will tell you, I had no medication what-so-ever, so when you were handed to me, you were alert and awake, and guess what you did?

You looked right up at me.

Your two little eyes, that could see, but couldn’t in the womb, had now the chance to see, and not just hear, your mama’s voice.

Chris, you looked right at me. I was so surprised.

Surprised isn’t the word.

Awestruck perhaps. I don’t know, but it was that very moment that I realized, you were your own little person. I knew that in my head, but the reality of your amazing-ness caught me off-guard.

You were so miraculous.

And I will tell you today, on your birthday, the first words I said, “Hi, little baby.”

That was it. I was so amazed at you, at God, at the miracle of life.

I love you more than words can say. So much more than that very first day. I love you more and more as the years go on.

Chris, I believe in you.

Your dad and each of your siblings do too. And all the people who spend time with you are touched by your genuine, tender heart. You are a gift to all of us.

We love you so much. Happy Birthday from afar. Hugs and love I pray you can feel, and trust and know that you are a gift. Chris, you’re a gift to us all.

This is the first day of the rest of your life. Sometimes in life, I believe we all feel we are Charlie Brown.

Remember at Halloween, when Charlie Brown came to a house, he moaned, “I got a rock.”

Well, I love this picture of Charlie Brown the best, because maybe he received some “rocks’ in his life, but here, he’s the one with the answer to life.

I give you a gift today of my heart filled to overflowing with love and hope and belief of all things—for you.

I pray you feel loved so abundantly today, and everyday.

And even more than me, Jesus loves you most of all,

I love you,
mom

I can still feel her hugs. I remember Judy.

My sister-in-law stood out above us all when we were gathered for family events. But don’t get me wrong, Judy was not an up-front, high-energy kind-of-person.
No, Judy was exceptional because she did little things with excellence. And, her other gift was, she was an in-the-moment kind of person.
When Judy, whom I didn’t meet until she had to face a 2nd battle with Lymphoma  after being in remission for 5 years—when she did even the smallest things, she did it with excellence.
Judy would make the salad for the family gathering. It was unforgettable. The homemade raspberry dressing and the array of different greens, (way before they ever began selling the little “fast and quick” salad bags in the stores), pine nuts, walnuts, raisins—out-of-this-world, memorable.
So, every time I make a raspberry salad, what am I thinking? I remember Judy.
Judy put in a wildflower/perennial garden on the side of her house. Breathtaking.
Today, I have a wildflower/perennial garden. It doesn’t even come close to having the “wow”-factor effect that Judy’s flowers had on me.  She made a choice to do things with excellence. It was a lasting choice.
Thank you Judy.
When Judy would wrap a gift, and sometimes, simply using the comics from the Sunday paper, (which is becoming uncommon in these days), somehow, she would add ribbon and tie on a trinket or two along with a card—the wrapping was as much a gift as the gift—
unforgettable.
So, of course, every time I wrap a gift, . . .
I remember Judy.
She talked with me and gave me importance. Even though she was going through so much, she listened to me and my craziness of being a young mom with a bunch of little kids.
Do you know, when my daughter Carolyn was three years old, Judy sewed a beautiful floral dress, with a matching bunny and put together a hat so my little girl would be the sweetest-looking-thing around.
You better believe the cameras came out. You would have thought they pulled out a red carpet when my daughter got out of the car. All I remember is the pouty face on my little beauty. (She wouldn’t smile for anything. I think it’s because it was her mom’s idea, but that’s a whole other story).
My mother-in-law was so impressed she did a watercolor of the special moment.
Remarkable.
Judy was exceptional.
What can I say? Well, I can say even more. It was her hugs. You see, when Judy gave me a hug, she held on to me. She would squeeze and hug me long. Longer than my comfortable .
But I’m so glad she did. Because even though Judy is no longer here, she lives in me. The salad, the gifts, the garden, the hugs.
And, I’m going to tell you one more thing. The day before thanksgiving, many years ago, my mother-in-law was broken, and sad, and emotional, but satisfied, when tulips were placed on top of the casket.
Tulips in November? Yes, for Judy—tulips were requested and tulips were found. Exceptional. Remarkable. Memorable, forever.
I remember Judy today because I was asked the other day, “Who has had an impact on you?”
Since I can’t tell Judy to her face until I get to be in heaven, I thought I’d share her with you. I think she might just make us all a better person today.
Unforgettable. I remember Judy. And now, you can too.