Wow...I haven't written anything here for a long time. Life is busy...making a new home, marriage and a very busy but rewarding job. Not much time for reflection these days. But that is what a break is for!
I'm feeling so grateful tonight...Christmas Eve...for so many things. Of course mostly this new life I've been granted. It still amazes me.
Tonight we went to a large Episcopal church with my son and his wife, much like the one I grew up in in suburban Milwaukee. My mom was a church organist, and Christmas Eve was filled with her music. She always gave a concert before the 11:00 service for which I was the assigned page turner. She would plan for it for most of the year and would top it off with Brandenburg's concerto in D minor. (Think Phantom of the Opera) The service would be full of all the old traditional hymns which I sang lustily next to my father who would jokingly say that he was making a "squeaky" noise to the Lord. Being there was like a big celebration with everyone you knew so well all dressed up,celebrating together and staying up really late.
My dad's been gone for 7 years(!) and my mom for about a year and a half. Glenn has been gone for 3 Christmas seasons. Last year I didn't attend church...Jon had just moved to Brainerd and we were still getting settled. At church today the opening hymn began and as I sang next to my husband with the wonderful bass voice, I completely fell apart. Memories of childhood and adulthood with my parents at Christmas Eve service and all the years of watching Glenn celebrating at the altar hoping it would end soon so we could get home and open presents with the kids. Memories of Jon's dad who I knew in high school, his late wife who I never knew, but who didn't deserve to die so young...it all hit me at once. My loving husband intuitively knew where I was coming from, gave me his hanky and a hug and Chris, my son, moved a little closer to me. I recovered with an immense sense of gratitude for growing up with such strong traditions that were positive, and for the years I spent knowing what clergy go through at Christmas. I felt all of their loving presences holding me close, and I knew that it was all okay.
And of course I lost it again it again at Silent Night, but then I've done that since my Grandpa died in the '70's.
I left with a heart so full of love for those who are gone but remain in the front of my heart forever, for all they gave me while alive. May they rest in peace. They sent me the message tonight to continue to live and love every moment I am on this earth.
Which brings me to my final realization of gratefulness. For all of you who have touched my life on this journey; and for my children...Emily, Chris and their spouses Paul and Rianna, my grandsons Henry and Ryan, my siblings Laurie and Chris, and their spouses Paul and Neva, my inherited mother Doris Kavanaugh and siblings Paul and Peter Kavanaugh and his partner Susan Clarke.
My biggest gratitude that still brings me to tears is for my husband Jon Kavanaugh...I'm crying as I write this because he is such evidence of God's grace in my life. I truly believe he was heaven sent to me from those who are gone but who loved me while on earth. I treasure every moment with him.
And so my friends, may you stop for a moment in this time and give thanks for the people in your lives...gone and present.
Merry Christmas.
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Friday, September 25, 2015
These dreams.
These have been hard weeks at at my new teaching job. It is such a paradox. After teaching all these years, I know the big picture of what to do but not the details. I know how to manage a group of students, but until yesterday I had no idea how to use some of the technology. I was used to using something similar, but this is just that much different from what I had before. It's like being caught up in a world that is familiar, yet brand new. And it makes my head very full.
Last Sunday night I finally broke down and had a big cry fest on Jon's shoulder. You know, the big ugly cry that you can only do with someone who loves you unconditionally. The kind where your eyes swell and your nose turns a bright red. It was cathartic.They were tears of grief over the loss of all that was familiar and my dear friends, and tears that had never been shed for all the changes in my life over the last year, and before.
I needed to let my big girl panties slide down and cry. And then I pulled them back up and got back to it. And the week went well (other than the day I copied the wrong worksheet to go with the PowerPoint I had planned...my experience let me punt...)
But this is what my post is about. If you've followed this blog and my previous one that followed my journey through unexpected widowhood,(allisonderby.blogspot.com) you will know that ever since Glenn died so suddenly, I've really come to believe that the veil is very thin between what I believe is heaven, and our earthly life here.
I've had very little rest this week because I kept having these VIVID dreams of my mom and dad, Glenn, Jon and the kids, all mixed together. But the significant part of my dreams is that the people who have left my world all had a conversation about my new life in them with me, and how they all thought that I made the right decision. Not fleeting images, but real dreams and conversations...(one way of course.) As dreams go, it was all mixed up and convoluted and my parents were in perfect health which hadn't been true for more than ten years. At one point in a dream Glenn was with Jon...weird stuff. It was discombobulating. Comforting in one way, and upsetting in another.
Last night I slept dreamlessly and soundly. And I realized in a text with an old friend tonight that I referred to a procedure at my new school as what "we" do....not "they" do. I noticed the change in my thoughts. Significant. Confidence given from above?
Making a new life, moving on, honoring those who helped me get here-both living and gone. And for my new friends who have picked up the gauntlet to help me on this new path...thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Grateful.
It's a all part of this new journey.
Last Sunday night I finally broke down and had a big cry fest on Jon's shoulder. You know, the big ugly cry that you can only do with someone who loves you unconditionally. The kind where your eyes swell and your nose turns a bright red. It was cathartic.They were tears of grief over the loss of all that was familiar and my dear friends, and tears that had never been shed for all the changes in my life over the last year, and before.
I needed to let my big girl panties slide down and cry. And then I pulled them back up and got back to it. And the week went well (other than the day I copied the wrong worksheet to go with the PowerPoint I had planned...my experience let me punt...)
But this is what my post is about. If you've followed this blog and my previous one that followed my journey through unexpected widowhood,(allisonderby.blogspot.com) you will know that ever since Glenn died so suddenly, I've really come to believe that the veil is very thin between what I believe is heaven, and our earthly life here.
I've had very little rest this week because I kept having these VIVID dreams of my mom and dad, Glenn, Jon and the kids, all mixed together. But the significant part of my dreams is that the people who have left my world all had a conversation about my new life in them with me, and how they all thought that I made the right decision. Not fleeting images, but real dreams and conversations...(one way of course.) As dreams go, it was all mixed up and convoluted and my parents were in perfect health which hadn't been true for more than ten years. At one point in a dream Glenn was with Jon...weird stuff. It was discombobulating. Comforting in one way, and upsetting in another.
Last night I slept dreamlessly and soundly. And I realized in a text with an old friend tonight that I referred to a procedure at my new school as what "we" do....not "they" do. I noticed the change in my thoughts. Significant. Confidence given from above?
Making a new life, moving on, honoring those who helped me get here-both living and gone. And for my new friends who have picked up the gauntlet to help me on this new path...thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Grateful.
It's a all part of this new journey.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Baby What A Big Surprise
As I sit on our deck in St.Paul, enjoying a beautiful summer night, listening to "our" play list I'm amazed at the direction of my life. Surprised? Absolutely.
Two years ago I was ready to cash it in. What ever happened to me I was ready to accept. I had no intention of looking or pursuing a relationship of any kind. I took a risk after a time, and got royally burned. It only served to convince me that the only safe place for me was to be alone.
Until.
I received the nicest sympathy card after my mom's death in the midst of a very hard time for the sender.
I stood in my kitchen knowing that this was someone I would like to know better...a "I shoulda had a V-8 " moment,.
An email from me hoping that an invite to Chicago still stood, started it all.
And now?
In 15 months we have had a civil wedding and a church blessing,and we own a home together. If we were younger I'd say it was too fast. But life is precious at this stage. No time to waste.
The surprise is that we can each honor and appreciate the lives and loves we had before, and realize that we wouldn't be where we are now without those experiences. Precious times.
Baby what a big surprise? Completely.
Knowing joy and love...
Continuing the journey.
Two years ago I was ready to cash it in. What ever happened to me I was ready to accept. I had no intention of looking or pursuing a relationship of any kind. I took a risk after a time, and got royally burned. It only served to convince me that the only safe place for me was to be alone.
Until.
I received the nicest sympathy card after my mom's death in the midst of a very hard time for the sender.
I stood in my kitchen knowing that this was someone I would like to know better...a "I shoulda had a V-8 " moment,.
An email from me hoping that an invite to Chicago still stood, started it all.
And now?
In 15 months we have had a civil wedding and a church blessing,and we own a home together. If we were younger I'd say it was too fast. But life is precious at this stage. No time to waste.
The surprise is that we can each honor and appreciate the lives and loves we had before, and realize that we wouldn't be where we are now without those experiences. Precious times.
Baby what a big surprise? Completely.
Knowing joy and love...
Continuing the journey.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Observations From The Street Bench
I'm fortunate to be married to someone who enjoys "people watching" as much as I do. When I was young, I used to love to sit in the lobby of the hospital where my dad was a physician. I would watch people coming and going and try to figure out relationships and why they were there. I still do that. But now in a different way.
In my former blog I wrote about my observations in Mexico, where I went to dive over spring break that year with my dear friends. We stayed in an authentic hotel, ate in street restaurants, and because I couldn't dive as often as they could, I had plenty of time to watch the people and culture. I noted at the time that I've never witnessed such hard working, dedicated people as those I observed in Cozumel. To suggest that all Mexicans are drug pushers and rapists is so offensive to me. But that's another subject.
We just spent three days in the heart of downtown San Francisco. We did all the usual tourist things, but we also spent much time walking, and taking long breaks on city benches, just watching humanity.
My dear friend Cathy Boyd recently posted a blog entitled, "Seeing God in The Ordinary." I sat and watched with that blog in mind.
I saw God in a weird way these last few days. Because we were sitting and watching, we were prime fodder for panhandlers....18 times in fact. Did I see Jesus in these lost souls? No, but I saw something else more significant. I saw their humanity. I saw men and women hopelessly addicted or mentally ill. I saw young adults that could have been my students a few years before. In those cases it struck me that they were someone's child...they were precious babies once. I'm hopeful someone wonders where they are. And the elderly broke my heart as well. They are not sitting on their walkers with a cup in their hand by choice. Life and society have failed them. These are all God's children. They are you and I if our lives had taken a different turn. I think it is one of the most tragically under-publicized problems of our nation, and I have no solution.
Tourists in San Francisco arrive from every nation in the world. My street observations let me hear so many different languages; so much so that I kept having to remind myself that we were in the U.S. and not somewhere abroad.
And this is what I discovered. WE ARE ALL THE SAME! Yes, there are extremists in every branch of humanity, including our own. But the similarities of normal humans are greater than the differences. For instance, I watched a Chinese mother, a European mother and even a Muslim mother receive a giant eye roll from their young teenage offspring. Apparently embarrassing your tween is a universal habit. Young lovers, old lovers, singles, gay and straight alike, all behave in a universally similar manner. People tend to air their relationships, for the positive or negative, as they walk along a busy street.
Yes. I saw God in the ordinary, in all these people, and it affirmed my belief that if we could stop and listen; if we could realize that what binds us together as humans is far greater than what divides us, then maybe there is a chance for peace and for the human race in general. We are all in this together.
Living in the ordinary,
Continuing the journey.
In my former blog I wrote about my observations in Mexico, where I went to dive over spring break that year with my dear friends. We stayed in an authentic hotel, ate in street restaurants, and because I couldn't dive as often as they could, I had plenty of time to watch the people and culture. I noted at the time that I've never witnessed such hard working, dedicated people as those I observed in Cozumel. To suggest that all Mexicans are drug pushers and rapists is so offensive to me. But that's another subject.
We just spent three days in the heart of downtown San Francisco. We did all the usual tourist things, but we also spent much time walking, and taking long breaks on city benches, just watching humanity.
My dear friend Cathy Boyd recently posted a blog entitled, "Seeing God in The Ordinary." I sat and watched with that blog in mind.
I saw God in a weird way these last few days. Because we were sitting and watching, we were prime fodder for panhandlers....18 times in fact. Did I see Jesus in these lost souls? No, but I saw something else more significant. I saw their humanity. I saw men and women hopelessly addicted or mentally ill. I saw young adults that could have been my students a few years before. In those cases it struck me that they were someone's child...they were precious babies once. I'm hopeful someone wonders where they are. And the elderly broke my heart as well. They are not sitting on their walkers with a cup in their hand by choice. Life and society have failed them. These are all God's children. They are you and I if our lives had taken a different turn. I think it is one of the most tragically under-publicized problems of our nation, and I have no solution.
Tourists in San Francisco arrive from every nation in the world. My street observations let me hear so many different languages; so much so that I kept having to remind myself that we were in the U.S. and not somewhere abroad.
And this is what I discovered. WE ARE ALL THE SAME! Yes, there are extremists in every branch of humanity, including our own. But the similarities of normal humans are greater than the differences. For instance, I watched a Chinese mother, a European mother and even a Muslim mother receive a giant eye roll from their young teenage offspring. Apparently embarrassing your tween is a universal habit. Young lovers, old lovers, singles, gay and straight alike, all behave in a universally similar manner. People tend to air their relationships, for the positive or negative, as they walk along a busy street.
Yes. I saw God in the ordinary, in all these people, and it affirmed my belief that if we could stop and listen; if we could realize that what binds us together as humans is far greater than what divides us, then maybe there is a chance for peace and for the human race in general. We are all in this together.
Living in the ordinary,
Continuing the journey.
Saturday, July 4, 2015
Surprised by Joy
I seem to do my best reflections in the quiet of the night. The time of night when I'm just getting up for a potty trip from September-May. I am blessed to not have to watch the clock much in the summer.
Tonight I'm watching a roaring fire as the last of the die-hard pyromaniacs are setting off their booms. Music is playing softly and I am reminiscing.
Two years ago about now was the darkest time of my life. I remember going to my friends Karen and Bob's house for the holiday in a daze; I was just going through the motions.
Last year, in an amazing development, heaven-sent I believe, I was watching the fireworks on Navy Pier in Chicago with Jon Kavanaugh, my high-school boyfriend. We were still in the early stages of maneuvering a new relationship, based on a huge shared history. It was thrilling and fun and the most freedom I'd ever felt. For the first time, I had no one to care for on a daily basis but myself.
Would I have ever thought then, that one year later we would be married, having moved away from Brainerd where all was familiar, or that we would own a house in the city I've wanted to live in for years? The city where my precious children and grandchildren live? And the place where cultural and other choices abound? Certainly not.
C.S. Lewis had a wonderful book entitled the same as the title of this blog...Surprised by joy? Oh my, yes.
The point of his book is to remain open to that joy. Live in the present, acknowledge the moment. Jon and I still look at each other and say, "Holy crap!", as the magnitude of what has taken place overtakes us sometimes. Knowing our time is short because of age makes every day that much more precious. If I'd only known how to treasure every day when I was younger!
And so, I remain amazed, peaceful and most of all surprised; that after all the pain and loss I've encountered in recent years I can still feel the all encompassing feeling of joy in the ordinary and not so ordinary.
Surprised by joy?
Absolutely.
Tonight I'm watching a roaring fire as the last of the die-hard pyromaniacs are setting off their booms. Music is playing softly and I am reminiscing.
Two years ago about now was the darkest time of my life. I remember going to my friends Karen and Bob's house for the holiday in a daze; I was just going through the motions.
Last year, in an amazing development, heaven-sent I believe, I was watching the fireworks on Navy Pier in Chicago with Jon Kavanaugh, my high-school boyfriend. We were still in the early stages of maneuvering a new relationship, based on a huge shared history. It was thrilling and fun and the most freedom I'd ever felt. For the first time, I had no one to care for on a daily basis but myself.
Would I have ever thought then, that one year later we would be married, having moved away from Brainerd where all was familiar, or that we would own a house in the city I've wanted to live in for years? The city where my precious children and grandchildren live? And the place where cultural and other choices abound? Certainly not.
C.S. Lewis had a wonderful book entitled the same as the title of this blog...Surprised by joy? Oh my, yes.
The point of his book is to remain open to that joy. Live in the present, acknowledge the moment. Jon and I still look at each other and say, "Holy crap!", as the magnitude of what has taken place overtakes us sometimes. Knowing our time is short because of age makes every day that much more precious. If I'd only known how to treasure every day when I was younger!
And so, I remain amazed, peaceful and most of all surprised; that after all the pain and loss I've encountered in recent years I can still feel the all encompassing feeling of joy in the ordinary and not so ordinary.
Surprised by joy?
Absolutely.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
When poise just isn't enough
One lesson I learned, or inherited from my parents and my upbringing, was how to act and react in different situations. In teaching,we refer to it as possessing "social skills."
I'm reflecting tonight on the fact that this is the first time in my life where I don't exactly know HOW to act or behave. I'm just kinda stumbling through, much like the students we pick out who haven't learned the social skills necessary for poise in public.
This was my last day with kids at my beloved Forestview, and tomorrow I get my token plant at our staff breakfast and will hit the road sometime in the morning. The end is here. And yet a happy new life for me is just beginning. It is a paradox of emotions.
The last week or so, as the clock started ticking down towards tomorrow, when I say goodbye to my colleagues and some very beloved friends, I've felt confused and out-of-place. I haven't been sure whether to let my emotions flow, and risk looking like a drama queen, or to treat it off- handedly by saying, "Okay- see ya later!", or by avoiding the goodbyes all together. I confess that for a charm school graduate, I've handled it very poorly. And I know it.
We uprooted my kids at 16 and 10 and moved them to this town 500 miles away from everything familiar in 1998, because we knew it was what we were to do. If you had asked me then if I thought I'd still be here 17 years later, I would have laughed. If you had told me I would drive to Bemidji every day for two years to fulfill a dream, I wouldn't have believed you. If you had told me then that I would work with and play with friends who would become my family, I would have laughed as well. It struck me today that when we came here, I was the same age as my friends Misty and Melissa, who I consider to be young. Who would have known that my children would stay in Minnesota as adults, and that I would live in three homes, bury my father, my mother- in-law, my husband and my mother during my tenure here? And that I would build a whole new life for myself in this home after all that loss? Not me, that is for sure.
None of that happened in an isolated vacuum. Everytime life threw something at me, my friends and workmates were with me as I grew and developed into the person I've become.
As I write this I'm realizing my dear friends here are probably in the same paradox that I am. On one hand they rejoice that I've found love, that I will be with my family and watch them grow more closely, and wish me all the best. On the other hand, life will change for them too, as a member of their "family" flies the nest.
And so, I guess nothing can quite prepare you for knowing how to say goodbye in this situation, because there is so much more than that to say. I want to say thank you to every single person who helped me heal and grow along the way, but the words don't express it enough, so I've said nothing. I want to tell each one of them that I love them dearly and will always hold them close to my heart, but again, it's hard to say that without appearing melodramatic. I want to assure them that things will remain the same, but I am old enough to know that although my relationships here will continue in a " new normal", it won't be the same, but I'm afraid to voice that. And so again I've said nothing. No, I've not handled this very well, but sometimes lately a hug is the most I can muster.
So I say it here, to everyone who has touched my life so profoundly while on this sojourn in this silly little beautiful town that has became my home. Thank you from the bottom of my soul for your caring and loving friendships, filled with fun and laughter. I love you all dearly and you will always be in my heart. We will find our new normal, please know that.
See ya later is so shallow. Only goodbye says it well enough. Good- bye Brainerd and my dear ones. And yeah...I'll see ya' later.
I'm reflecting tonight on the fact that this is the first time in my life where I don't exactly know HOW to act or behave. I'm just kinda stumbling through, much like the students we pick out who haven't learned the social skills necessary for poise in public.
This was my last day with kids at my beloved Forestview, and tomorrow I get my token plant at our staff breakfast and will hit the road sometime in the morning. The end is here. And yet a happy new life for me is just beginning. It is a paradox of emotions.
The last week or so, as the clock started ticking down towards tomorrow, when I say goodbye to my colleagues and some very beloved friends, I've felt confused and out-of-place. I haven't been sure whether to let my emotions flow, and risk looking like a drama queen, or to treat it off- handedly by saying, "Okay- see ya later!", or by avoiding the goodbyes all together. I confess that for a charm school graduate, I've handled it very poorly. And I know it.
We uprooted my kids at 16 and 10 and moved them to this town 500 miles away from everything familiar in 1998, because we knew it was what we were to do. If you had asked me then if I thought I'd still be here 17 years later, I would have laughed. If you had told me I would drive to Bemidji every day for two years to fulfill a dream, I wouldn't have believed you. If you had told me then that I would work with and play with friends who would become my family, I would have laughed as well. It struck me today that when we came here, I was the same age as my friends Misty and Melissa, who I consider to be young. Who would have known that my children would stay in Minnesota as adults, and that I would live in three homes, bury my father, my mother- in-law, my husband and my mother during my tenure here? And that I would build a whole new life for myself in this home after all that loss? Not me, that is for sure.
None of that happened in an isolated vacuum. Everytime life threw something at me, my friends and workmates were with me as I grew and developed into the person I've become.
As I write this I'm realizing my dear friends here are probably in the same paradox that I am. On one hand they rejoice that I've found love, that I will be with my family and watch them grow more closely, and wish me all the best. On the other hand, life will change for them too, as a member of their "family" flies the nest.
And so, I guess nothing can quite prepare you for knowing how to say goodbye in this situation, because there is so much more than that to say. I want to say thank you to every single person who helped me heal and grow along the way, but the words don't express it enough, so I've said nothing. I want to tell each one of them that I love them dearly and will always hold them close to my heart, but again, it's hard to say that without appearing melodramatic. I want to assure them that things will remain the same, but I am old enough to know that although my relationships here will continue in a " new normal", it won't be the same, but I'm afraid to voice that. And so again I've said nothing. No, I've not handled this very well, but sometimes lately a hug is the most I can muster.
So I say it here, to everyone who has touched my life so profoundly while on this sojourn in this silly little beautiful town that has became my home. Thank you from the bottom of my soul for your caring and loving friendships, filled with fun and laughter. I love you all dearly and you will always be in my heart. We will find our new normal, please know that.
See ya later is so shallow. Only goodbye says it well enough. Good- bye Brainerd and my dear ones. And yeah...I'll see ya' later.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Full circle
What a strange week it has been. I forced myself to be in the present in my job and in my relationships, all the while knowing that a major event in my life is happening this weekend. I was only able to let go and acknowledge it fully about six-o-clock tonight.
You see, Jon and I are getting married this weekend. It started out as a secret event for legal, tax and health insurance reasons, and has evolved into something very special, and now public, for us. We will have a church blessing and full reception this summer. But this weekend is just about us. My children and spouses will be the only ones in attendance, except for a photographer and a judge. We leave tomorrow for St. Paul; a new dress, a new suit, and dreams for the future in tow.
As you know I've done this before. I'm the person I used to laugh at. This is my third marriage. Really??? But I know now that life throws curve balls quite often...I got knocked out by a couple of them. I would never have chosen it. That I'm getting another chance is humbling and just a bit scary sometimes waiting for the other shoe to drop. When life beats you up, it's a natural reaction. We both feel it.
Both of us have been quiet this week -- happy and confident; perhaps reflective, knowing the power of the commitment we are about to enter. It means so much. That is what makes marriage at our age so completely emotional and different from marrying at an earlier age. We know that time is not on our side. Life and the families we share become precious. I am inheriting a mom and two brothers- in-law that I would have hand-picked if I could. I'm so blessed. Jon feels the same way inheriting my siblings and children, my children, spouses and grandchildren, and of course two pets.
I had a bittersweet evening last week when I mourned my parents and Glenn, whose life was cut so short so suddenly. Because of our age and maturity, Jon just held me until it passed. He remains such a heaven-sent gift to me. This happens when you have life behind you.
Do I have the same excitement as a bride of 25? Absolutely. But it is richer and deeper. It is all about us this time. We bring our lives and experiences to each other in a way that you can't know when you are young. And in our case, it is the completion of a relationship circle that started when I was 16 years old. How cool and amazing is that?
We both find it incredible and overwhelming. And we wouldn't change a thing.
We believe in us, in the power of our love and after all we've been through, we hold on to hope for a long future together.
Isn't that what life is about?
Continuing on the journey.....in awe and joy.
http://open.spotify.com/track/1jvoeTYt8usIxGWQUSzEyz
You see, Jon and I are getting married this weekend. It started out as a secret event for legal, tax and health insurance reasons, and has evolved into something very special, and now public, for us. We will have a church blessing and full reception this summer. But this weekend is just about us. My children and spouses will be the only ones in attendance, except for a photographer and a judge. We leave tomorrow for St. Paul; a new dress, a new suit, and dreams for the future in tow.
As you know I've done this before. I'm the person I used to laugh at. This is my third marriage. Really??? But I know now that life throws curve balls quite often...I got knocked out by a couple of them. I would never have chosen it. That I'm getting another chance is humbling and just a bit scary sometimes waiting for the other shoe to drop. When life beats you up, it's a natural reaction. We both feel it.
Both of us have been quiet this week -- happy and confident; perhaps reflective, knowing the power of the commitment we are about to enter. It means so much. That is what makes marriage at our age so completely emotional and different from marrying at an earlier age. We know that time is not on our side. Life and the families we share become precious. I am inheriting a mom and two brothers- in-law that I would have hand-picked if I could. I'm so blessed. Jon feels the same way inheriting my siblings and children, my children, spouses and grandchildren, and of course two pets.
I had a bittersweet evening last week when I mourned my parents and Glenn, whose life was cut so short so suddenly. Because of our age and maturity, Jon just held me until it passed. He remains such a heaven-sent gift to me. This happens when you have life behind you.
Do I have the same excitement as a bride of 25? Absolutely. But it is richer and deeper. It is all about us this time. We bring our lives and experiences to each other in a way that you can't know when you are young. And in our case, it is the completion of a relationship circle that started when I was 16 years old. How cool and amazing is that?
We both find it incredible and overwhelming. And we wouldn't change a thing.
We believe in us, in the power of our love and after all we've been through, we hold on to hope for a long future together.
Isn't that what life is about?
Continuing on the journey.....in awe and joy.
http://open.spotify.com/track/1jvoeTYt8usIxGWQUSzEyz
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