Six of my six at-home kids are sick, falling like flies to the stomach flu. Poor sweeties. As I was setting out their Valentine’s treats this morning, 16-year-old Cate smiled weakly. “Thank you for the puke ammo!”
This post will be heavier on photos than on words, I think, mainly because I’ve been taking pictures daily but don’t have the time (as yet) to tell all the stories. I used to make blogging one of my top priorities, mainly because I loved it so, but with my oldest in college and my second son graduating, I realize that there will be time…only later…because my five youngest are growing up so fast.
Also? I’m still somewhat addicted to playing Candy Crush, because at the end of the day when my brain’s wiped out…
It’s easier to swipe a screen than formulate great thoughts.
One thing I’ve wanted to write about (but haven’t quite been able) is my most recent trip home for my parents’ 70th wedding anniversary. The memories from this visit are both beautiful and hard, because my dad got really really sick and we thought, for a day or two, that we would lose him.
He was too sick to attend his own anniversary party, and my mama, (despite her failing memory), was quick to notice her husband’s absence.
“Where’s George?” she asked us, pointedly, and seemed a bit cranky from that moment on.
Who can blame her?
Not me. Not my sisters.
And so, because there’s rarely true love without some suffering and loss, I wanted to take a moment on this St. Valentine’s Day to tell you, “I get it.” I get your pain in my own unique way because what we’ve gone through with my parents is harder than anything else I’ve experienced, except for maybe my husband’s job loss five years ago and the consequent strain and near separation.
He and I made it through, thank goodness, and I love him quite literally more than ever.
That which doesn’t kill us…
…makes us stronger.
Helps us love. ♥
Happy St. Valentine’s Day, dear friend! I love in Him; I love you…for you.