The Road toward Acceptance

This is the picture I had to put away of my dear man.  It was so him...officiating music at the St Paddy's Day Parade.  Now, it seems like an antique obit clipping.
 Not him at all...no bright blue eyes..nothing real. All gone.
I cannot find him.

I always wanted to be like my husband.  I wanted to be easy going like him, thoughtful and kind like he was, I wanted to be able to say no to chocolate and run like the wind,
while keeping my emotions in check.

 But, I could never be him, only be me with my set of stuff, flying by the seat of my pants.

.  Then ALS hit him.  No fair.

I was a bit jealous of Johanna too...she could live on bits of salads alone and seemed to have it all.

Then Pancreatic cancer took her out in 8 months. No fair.

The new me has more acceptance.  Trying to work on Gratitude only.

 I think that sitting in my recliner with Oreos and quilting books is going to be just fine.

Stephanie has known grief.  When her middle son was 15, he was lined against the wall and shot by a gang.

Steph couldn't leave the house for months. That was 20 years ago.

I think that when I cry, she understands.  It also reminds her of such sadness.

 Stephanie is family. 

We call Ms Stephanie, Stephanie Muldoon, but she insists on keeping her own name. 

She is like that.
Here she is doing make-up with the bug catcher and wild man.

 

 I have not been out of the house in three days with this asthma stuff.  Tonight we were out of

THE  laundry detergent...a terrible thing with three little children.

I walked into Harris Teeter and promptly  had a huge asthma attack.
coughing until all the customers ran screaming for flu shots..OMG

I am going to make a birthday present tonight...that should get me going.
Going to make it fun.