I shut off the lights. It's been a long day. Yet, I linger here. Here, where the heady scent of pine transports me to days gone by. I'm drowsy. The shadows play in my mind. Funny how night and sleepiness will do that. A mystical balance between wakefulness and slumber. I breathe in. Peace and joy. A time when I wondered if I would ever feel anything ever again. Here. I sit. In the quietness. This tree a symbol of life; in the same spot my son lay before we laid him in the ground. Death and life so closely intertwined. Yet life wins. Death has been conquered. I Corinthians ... View Post
Living Life
A busy day. Nothing new; except the feeling. All day. Something. Not right. The Cast Party. Families. Dancers. Food. Decorating. Arabian Nights. Alladin. So much to do. Purposefully stepping one foot in front of the other. Work. Grief. Talk truth. Verse after verse. To my weary heart. Jeremiah 31:3 The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: "I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness. It ... View Post
My Name is Tammy and I Make my Bed Everyday
I haven't showered. Laundry is piled on the floor. Book work stacked on the table and in piles. It's tax time you know. And the beat of that clock is ticking. I can feel it. I make my bed. Yes. In the middle of all the chaos. There is one thing. Constant. I make my bed. What does that say about me? I am sure psycho therapists would have a field day. Of all the things that need to get done. I make my bed. Every day. With out fail. I wash my sheets too. Almost ... View Post
Stepping Through The Plan I Do Not Understand
I will go to the funeral of a dear friend today. It is also the 19th month Anniversary of our sons home going. With many of the same people, we will celebrate the life of one lived so very well. Through song and prayer we will lift our voices to the heavens. We will remember. Why does the pain of this life become overwhelming? I feel some days that grief is all I know. As my dad succumbs to the memory thief and we need to make decisions about his care my heart feels so weighted. This life ... View Post
It Is In The Gentle Whisper. That He Speaks
He's cleaning out. . . his room. My farmer. Spending time in his son's room. Picking through the pieces of a life. A life interrupted. Abruptly. I am left numb. Head gear for Wrestling. His uniform. Still here. A procrastinator; like me. Things we need to return. Dry Erase markers for his white board. His attempt to get organized. His belt. I finger the holes. One by one. I don't want this to be my walk. The burning creeps toward my heart. It feels like it is too much to ... View Post
Do You Know Where You’re Headed?
He had less than a week left. Less than a week to live. Oh how I miss him. How I long to talk to him; to hear his deep, rich voice. What about you: if you had less than a week left? Do you know you're loved? Beyond anything you could ask or imagine. Do you live with purpose and passion? Or has something stolen that passion? He was passionate. He lived life. He grabbed hold of each event with gusto. He lived with an abandon that teenagers live. Never thinking he had a date with eternity in a week. He was making plans. Promises to a ... View Post
