G and I made peanut blossoms. He wasn't sure exactly what they were, unti the kisses went on top...
G: Oh! Grandma Molyneaux used to like these! I bet she can smell them from Heaven. Maybe we should sent some to her.
Me: How do we do that?
G: Put them in a box, take them to the post office and put on the box "to Grandma Molyneaux in Heaven"
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
haning out with the fam....
One of the best things about our house is the big fields behind us to play in....
Zoey likes it too...
Wy was amused by the frolicking dogs, and wind....oh to be amused by everything....
There aren't very many days left before it's cold and icky but we had fun...and when that does happen, we'll just get out the sleds!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
missing Mom....
This week has been a tough one for me. There are so many things that just would have made this week easier if I had been able to talk to her. We decided to do Thanksgiving festivites here, with Tim's folks, instead of going and doing the big family thing. Mostly, I realize, because I didn't think I could handle all that; it's just too much this year.
So I pulled out my box of recipes (now full because hers are in there too)....thought I'd make squash raised rolls, or "egg" rolls, as I called them for the majority of my childhood; but I didn't understand the recipe. Later that night, I cried. I told myself it was because I didn't know if I ever taste them again. Even as I tried to convince of this, I knew I was crying because she would never show me how. The loneliness through this preparation for tomorrow is stifling. I settled for plain rolls but apparently I needed her help in this too--but I'm hoping they can be salvaged.
It's not about the food I know that. I never really felt cheated after she died but now I feel as though there were still so many things I never did with her, or things she never showed. I'm feeling inadequate. Stupid things, like the infamous Beckwith raspberry pie that she didn't show me how to make; tend to make me very upset.
I drove home today in tears for no particular reason. I'd like to blame it on the stress of the week, but I know that's not it. I'm still waiting for the day when I can stop being so verklempt and not teary; still waiting...I know it's the season to be thankful, but I'm having a really hard time with it this year. I have so many things to be thankful--a wonderful husband, two great kids and many other things, but I'm really finding it all a little trite this year.
So I pulled out my box of recipes (now full because hers are in there too)....thought I'd make squash raised rolls, or "egg" rolls, as I called them for the majority of my childhood; but I didn't understand the recipe. Later that night, I cried. I told myself it was because I didn't know if I ever taste them again. Even as I tried to convince of this, I knew I was crying because she would never show me how. The loneliness through this preparation for tomorrow is stifling. I settled for plain rolls but apparently I needed her help in this too--but I'm hoping they can be salvaged.
It's not about the food I know that. I never really felt cheated after she died but now I feel as though there were still so many things I never did with her, or things she never showed. I'm feeling inadequate. Stupid things, like the infamous Beckwith raspberry pie that she didn't show me how to make; tend to make me very upset.
I drove home today in tears for no particular reason. I'd like to blame it on the stress of the week, but I know that's not it. I'm still waiting for the day when I can stop being so verklempt and not teary; still waiting...I know it's the season to be thankful, but I'm having a really hard time with it this year. I have so many things to be thankful--a wonderful husband, two great kids and many other things, but I'm really finding it all a little trite this year.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Garrett and the Crayola Facotry
On Saturday, we took a roadtrip to Easton and took G to the Crayola Factory. Because money isn't something we have oodles of, and to teach him that one can't have everything, he was given the choice of the circus (which I was silently dreading taking Wy to) or the crayon factory. He chose the latter.
He's so subdued at places like this. So shy and quiet, it's hard to tell if he's having a good time. He may look like Tim, but he is so much like me! There was a clear plexi-glass wall with markers. I thought Garrett would love to "draw" on it. I took him over to the wall and I noticed, but didn't say anything to him, that there wasn't much room to write. He was very hesitant and told me he wasn't going to write on the wall because it was "bad". I told him I would do it first. His response, as he covered his eyes with his hands: "Momma don't do it! I can't even watch!!" Finally, Tim got him to try it, but even then he was upset because there were no "clean spots to draw on"; to which Tim rolled his eyes....but I completely understood his frustration!!
Then Tim took him into the "art room". I sat outside with Wy, looking at these kids coming out with finger paints on them and their parents and thought bad thoughts. Next thing I look in and G's coloring at a table. Tim said he didn't want to get dirty....good boy!!
Last stop was the area with sidewalk chalk. Unlike the other stops this one was deserted and G was the only one there. He was coloring and making "O's" and next thing I know he's cleaning up. He turns and says to me "this is a mess and they are going to break. I'll put them away, is that a good idea?
He really did have a good time. He hasn't stopped coloring since we got home. He's a good egg.
He's so subdued at places like this. So shy and quiet, it's hard to tell if he's having a good time. He may look like Tim, but he is so much like me! There was a clear plexi-glass wall with markers. I thought Garrett would love to "draw" on it. I took him over to the wall and I noticed, but didn't say anything to him, that there wasn't much room to write. He was very hesitant and told me he wasn't going to write on the wall because it was "bad". I told him I would do it first. His response, as he covered his eyes with his hands: "Momma don't do it! I can't even watch!!" Finally, Tim got him to try it, but even then he was upset because there were no "clean spots to draw on"; to which Tim rolled his eyes....but I completely understood his frustration!!
Then Tim took him into the "art room". I sat outside with Wy, looking at these kids coming out with finger paints on them and their parents and thought bad thoughts. Next thing I look in and G's coloring at a table. Tim said he didn't want to get dirty....good boy!!
Last stop was the area with sidewalk chalk. Unlike the other stops this one was deserted and G was the only one there. He was coloring and making "O's" and next thing I know he's cleaning up. He turns and says to me "this is a mess and they are going to break. I'll put them away, is that a good idea?
He really did have a good time. He hasn't stopped coloring since we got home. He's a good egg.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
doggie day care
We've opened a doggie day care, our rates can't be beat! Nah, Dad's just away for a few days so Cop is on vacay!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
2 spoiled dogs
Samson was always trying to lay on our papazon cushion, so we broke down and got him his own pillow, but of course we couldn't get just one.
Friday, September 25, 2009
looking pretty
I printed this picture out to put on our living room wall (my latest project is to cover the wall with random family photos) but it never made it onto the wall, because G begged to have the picture in his room....last night when I tucked him in....G: was Grandma sick in this picture?
Me: yes she was.
G: hmm, I think she looks pretty, not sick.
Me: yes she does look pretty.
G: I wish we could go back to that day, it looks like I was having fun. I think Grandma was too, she looks happy.
Me too G.....
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Secret Plot Revealed
I was down at Dad's yesterday, and he told me that he found some Christmas presents tucked away that Mom had gotten for this coming year. He seemed incredulous that she would buy so far in advance. I wasn't that surprised; after all, Mom and I used to go out shopping the day after Christmas. She would pick out her colors for the following year (I think this yr was supposed to be green and gold), and inevitably she would find "deals that would be perfect for so and so for next year". It reminded of a certain hanging quilt that I never got. But before I tell you that story, I need to give some background....
Whenever Mom wanted something that she thought Dad would think unnecessary; she had a system. She would buy it, and I would take it home, and give it to her at the next occassion for presents. We did this often, once we each "gave" each other wind breakers that we had bought together; hers was pink, mine orange. I don't know if Dad ever knew, but he never let on. It was just one of "our things".
And so it happened that we went to the big craft fair at the high school, like we had done for years. This time she was a quilter, and was very excited to see one of the vendors was a couple that owned a quilt shop, but they were going out of business. They had all kinds of fabrics but they also had bedspreads and actual quilts. I liked one of the quilts, it was a hanging quilt. She told me she would get it for me for Christmas. She liked one of the bedspreads, but was afraid Dad wouldn't want a new one, since the green one on her bed was fairly new. So she devised a plan; she would get both, but I would take the bedspread and give it to her for Christmas. Dad wouldn't tell me they didn't need one if it was a gift; she said. So that's what we did, when I dropped her off, she took the hanging blanket, and I took her newly purchased bedspread.
A few days later she called me. "Do you like that bedspread that you are giving me for Christmas?" Umm, yeah....She had prepping Dad, warming him up to the idea of a new bedspread. Wouldn't a quilted one be nice? Then Dad threw a wrench into the plan; he said that'd be great; but he'd only want a quilted one if she made it. Hence the bedspread became my Christmas present. She told me that since I was getting the bedspread, and I didn't have my house yet; she was going to hold on to the hanging quilt so that Dad wouldn't be suspicious. And she told me that she took the quilt out and the edging wasn't as good as she could have done, and that would have bothered her in the end, but since I wasn't a quilter, it wouldn't bother me.
So at Christmastime, we got the bedspread. I did my best to act surprised and to take the time to inspect it, even though I had had it under my bed for some time. But I never did get the hanging quilt. From what I remember from last November, it would match the bedspread. I really need to do some serious searching of those upstair closets....As of yet, I don't think Dad has come across it; unless he has and is saving it for Christmas. Huh wouldn't that be funny?
Whenever Mom wanted something that she thought Dad would think unnecessary; she had a system. She would buy it, and I would take it home, and give it to her at the next occassion for presents. We did this often, once we each "gave" each other wind breakers that we had bought together; hers was pink, mine orange. I don't know if Dad ever knew, but he never let on. It was just one of "our things".
And so it happened that we went to the big craft fair at the high school, like we had done for years. This time she was a quilter, and was very excited to see one of the vendors was a couple that owned a quilt shop, but they were going out of business. They had all kinds of fabrics but they also had bedspreads and actual quilts. I liked one of the quilts, it was a hanging quilt. She told me she would get it for me for Christmas. She liked one of the bedspreads, but was afraid Dad wouldn't want a new one, since the green one on her bed was fairly new. So she devised a plan; she would get both, but I would take the bedspread and give it to her for Christmas. Dad wouldn't tell me they didn't need one if it was a gift; she said. So that's what we did, when I dropped her off, she took the hanging blanket, and I took her newly purchased bedspread.
A few days later she called me. "Do you like that bedspread that you are giving me for Christmas?" Umm, yeah....She had prepping Dad, warming him up to the idea of a new bedspread. Wouldn't a quilted one be nice? Then Dad threw a wrench into the plan; he said that'd be great; but he'd only want a quilted one if she made it. Hence the bedspread became my Christmas present. She told me that since I was getting the bedspread, and I didn't have my house yet; she was going to hold on to the hanging quilt so that Dad wouldn't be suspicious. And she told me that she took the quilt out and the edging wasn't as good as she could have done, and that would have bothered her in the end, but since I wasn't a quilter, it wouldn't bother me.
So at Christmastime, we got the bedspread. I did my best to act surprised and to take the time to inspect it, even though I had had it under my bed for some time. But I never did get the hanging quilt. From what I remember from last November, it would match the bedspread. I really need to do some serious searching of those upstair closets....As of yet, I don't think Dad has come across it; unless he has and is saving it for Christmas. Huh wouldn't that be funny?
Friday, September 4, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
dreams
Last night I had a dream, a lovely and simple dream. I dreamed that I was hanging out with Mom talking about whether I should order a mat for G or just buy it in the store (a real debate that I've been having with myself). Then my alarm went off and I got out of bed, thinking, "Hmm, why haven't I asked mom her opinion yet?" Then I walked downstairs, and I saw her jewelry chest staring me in the face and reality sunk in. She's gone, I can't have that simple conversation with her....hmm. If only I had been somewhat conscious during the dream; I would have savored it more.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Talking loud and missing Grandma
G and I were out weeding tonight. He was being exceptionally loud so I asked him:
"G, why are you yelling?"
"I'm not yelling, I'm being loud so when Grandma looks down from heaven she can hear my jokes and laugh at them with us. I miss Grandma Molyneaux."
And just like that the conversation was over and he was on to something else....
"G, why are you yelling?"
"I'm not yelling, I'm being loud so when Grandma looks down from heaven she can hear my jokes and laugh at them with us. I miss Grandma Molyneaux."
And just like that the conversation was over and he was on to something else....
Saturday, August 29, 2009
hmm...heaven?
I miss Mom, but as much as I long for her; I wouldn't necessarily wish that she were here. That sounds so strange and peculiar but there it is. Tonight on the way home, I heard a different kind of song about someone who passed away. Instead of talking of our grief, it is from the perspective of Heaven. It talks of how that person is "runs with the angels on streets made of gold...listen to stories of saints new and old..." The title of the song is called "wish you were here". I never thought of it that way. That while we are down here grieving losing her, she is up in Heaven, waiting for the day for us to arrive and show us around. It just makes me smile to think of her chatting up the likes of Corrie and the apostle Paul.
I still get sad at things that she will experience or see. For example, and this sounds absurd to put it into words, but I was very upset that she passed away before I was able to take Wy for his first professional photos. She was never able to hold, what I hope, will be beautiful portraits and oogle over her grandson. It sounds absurd not because she held the real baby but because I am so wrapped up in this temporal world that I still think a picture is going to be a comfort to her. The point is that she now walks with the Great Comforter. She needs no temporary comfort now, she is without pain and is in the presence of her God. I find that so hard to fathom. Many times throughout the day, I find myself wondering how one occupies their time in heaven. I know the Bible says we will worship, but again my finite mind takes over and I think "all the time?" But my mom knows now.
I still get sad at things that she will experience or see. For example, and this sounds absurd to put it into words, but I was very upset that she passed away before I was able to take Wy for his first professional photos. She was never able to hold, what I hope, will be beautiful portraits and oogle over her grandson. It sounds absurd not because she held the real baby but because I am so wrapped up in this temporal world that I still think a picture is going to be a comfort to her. The point is that she now walks with the Great Comforter. She needs no temporary comfort now, she is without pain and is in the presence of her God. I find that so hard to fathom. Many times throughout the day, I find myself wondering how one occupies their time in heaven. I know the Bible says we will worship, but again my finite mind takes over and I think "all the time?" But my mom knows now.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Sporting Mom's Jewelry
Wyatt wearing some beads...
I tried to put on all the jewelry I was taking.... but it was getting mighty confusing. So I gave up and put the rest away.
The earrings were difficult to display since I only have a total of 4 holes.
A new trend......one pair, one ear...marvelous!!!
Can't quite say what Mom would have said but it would have made her smile.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Feel Better Gifts
Garrett: "Mommy we should go check on your mommy" Garrett never got that Mom was also his beloved Grandma.
"G, my mom was Grandma"
"Oh Mommy I'm so sorry" he said as he put his hand on my leg.
"And Grandpa is my daddy"
"Grandpa must be very sad that he lost Grandma"(Lost is a very abstract concept for a 3 yr old, when all we've said is dead) "Tomorrow I will take Grandpa something special to make him feel better"
So after the burial, at lunch, Garrett gave Grandpa a piece of bubble gum. A very special piece of bubble gum.
"G, my mom was Grandma"
"Oh Mommy I'm so sorry" he said as he put his hand on my leg.
"And Grandpa is my daddy"
"Grandpa must be very sad that he lost Grandma"(Lost is a very abstract concept for a 3 yr old, when all we've said is dead) "Tomorrow I will take Grandpa something special to make him feel better"
So after the burial, at lunch, Garrett gave Grandpa a piece of bubble gum. A very special piece of bubble gum.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
more...
"Garrett, tomorrow we are going to the cemtery to bury Grandma's body. But she's not there because she is already in Heaven with her Mommy and Daddy, and other friends and most importantly she's with God."
His eyes lit up "Are we going to Heaven tomorrow too?"
His eyes lit up "Are we going to Heaven tomorrow too?"
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
On my Mom....
Growing up, I always joked with everyone that I was Mom's favorite. Maybe it was because I was her baby or maybe it was because I had been so sick as an infant. But for whatever the reason was, I was sheltered and protected. I remember once in college, calling to rant about some injustice and her offering to intercede on my behalf. She has even offered to do this as late as my current job. I don't think it was that she didn't think I was incapable of handling it on my own, but rather I was her baby no matter how old I was or how my own family was growing. I have long ago stopped accepting her even though she never stopped offering; but yet it was comforting on some level knowing she was always there for me.
I remember the day she told me she had cancer. Garrett was one, and I remember driving away in tears, terrified that without her I would not be able to be the kind of mom I had. There was so much I didn't know then, I had so many questions and she became a one of kind teacher. And through the process of one mother showing her daughter to be a mother; I found something more. I found quite quickly and easily that she had become my best friend. And so she was there, answering all my questions. For two years, even through all the chemo & the pain, she was there and she very much became the center of his universe.
At Christmas time when she told us that despite all the different chemos the cancer still grew; I found myself incredulous and panicking a little. Incredulous that this could be happening when there was another baby on the way. How could she be taken without being able to love him as much as she did his older brother? Panicking because how would I ever deal with my own grief as well as Garrett and the new baby? Yet here we are, God has not failed us yet...
She was there with me in the room when both of the boys were born. When Garrett was born she was so strong! I remember her walking into my room, and thinking how great she looked for the middle of the night, she even had time to put eyeshadow on. She drove herslef down to the hospital in the middle of the night, and she never left my side for the entire 3 hours I labored. Wyatt's birth was completely different, this time we had to pick her up; yes in the middle of the night; (she wasn't driving anymore). She sat in a chair on one of the walls.. She was not there to hold my hand through every contraction, she slept through most of them. Only when I would cry out "mommy!" would she rouse herself to come hold my hand. Even as I yelled out for her to take away my pain, I was realizing how crazy that must have sounded to her. But that's what she had always been able to do in the past. Thoughts flooded my mind, thinking things like how could I ever survive labor without her there to soothe me the way only one's own mother can. It was tough on both of us, I had to be slightly more independant, and she was struggling with her own battles but I don't think either of us would have done it differently.
I struggle every day with unfairness of it all. I have two sons who she loved more than anything. One will only remember how sick she was and one will have no memory of her at all. I sometimes feel guilty about that, that somehow I have acted selfishly, but I know it's not true. A few days ago Garrett hurt his foot and the only thing I could think of was how to stop his pain.
It made my heart ache, thinking of how she must feel seeing in this kind of pain, but unable for one of the first times, to help us through it. I sat there in her room, feeling so alone, wanting to tell someone my feelings and I realized that it was Mom I wanted. Today as I kissed her, for I believe the last time, I laughed a little to myself that she still had a bit of eyeshadow on her eyes. The morning 3 weeks ago when she had gone into the hospital, she must have put on her eyeshadow one last time, "I don't go anywhere without it" she would say. No, Mom you don't and it's still there. Everything's as it should be.
I remember the day she told me she had cancer. Garrett was one, and I remember driving away in tears, terrified that without her I would not be able to be the kind of mom I had. There was so much I didn't know then, I had so many questions and she became a one of kind teacher. And through the process of one mother showing her daughter to be a mother; I found something more. I found quite quickly and easily that she had become my best friend. And so she was there, answering all my questions. For two years, even through all the chemo & the pain, she was there and she very much became the center of his universe.
At Christmas time when she told us that despite all the different chemos the cancer still grew; I found myself incredulous and panicking a little. Incredulous that this could be happening when there was another baby on the way. How could she be taken without being able to love him as much as she did his older brother? Panicking because how would I ever deal with my own grief as well as Garrett and the new baby? Yet here we are, God has not failed us yet...
She was there with me in the room when both of the boys were born. When Garrett was born she was so strong! I remember her walking into my room, and thinking how great she looked for the middle of the night, she even had time to put eyeshadow on. She drove herslef down to the hospital in the middle of the night, and she never left my side for the entire 3 hours I labored. Wyatt's birth was completely different, this time we had to pick her up; yes in the middle of the night; (she wasn't driving anymore). She sat in a chair on one of the walls.. She was not there to hold my hand through every contraction, she slept through most of them. Only when I would cry out "mommy!" would she rouse herself to come hold my hand. Even as I yelled out for her to take away my pain, I was realizing how crazy that must have sounded to her. But that's what she had always been able to do in the past. Thoughts flooded my mind, thinking things like how could I ever survive labor without her there to soothe me the way only one's own mother can. It was tough on both of us, I had to be slightly more independant, and she was struggling with her own battles but I don't think either of us would have done it differently.
I struggle every day with unfairness of it all. I have two sons who she loved more than anything. One will only remember how sick she was and one will have no memory of her at all. I sometimes feel guilty about that, that somehow I have acted selfishly, but I know it's not true. A few days ago Garrett hurt his foot and the only thing I could think of was how to stop his pain.
It made my heart ache, thinking of how she must feel seeing in this kind of pain, but unable for one of the first times, to help us through it. I sat there in her room, feeling so alone, wanting to tell someone my feelings and I realized that it was Mom I wanted. Today as I kissed her, for I believe the last time, I laughed a little to myself that she still had a bit of eyeshadow on her eyes. The morning 3 weeks ago when she had gone into the hospital, she must have put on her eyeshadow one last time, "I don't go anywhere without it" she would say. No, Mom you don't and it's still there. Everything's as it should be.
With Hope
This is not at all how
We thought it was supposed to be
We had so many plans for you
We had so many dreams
And now you've gone away
And left us with the memories of your smile
And nothing we can say
And nothing we can do
Can take away the pain
The pain of losing you, but ...
We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope '
Cause we know our goodbye is not the end,
And we can grieve with hope
'Cause we believe with hope
(There's a place by God's grace)
There's a place where we'll see your face again
We'll see your face again
And never have I known
Anything so hard to understand
And never have I questioned more
The wisdom of God's plan
But through the cloud of tears
I see the Father's smile and say well done
And I imagine you
Where you wanted most to be
Seeing all your dreams come true
'Cause now you're home
And now you're free, and ...
We have this hope as an anchor
'Cause we believe that everything God promised us is true, so ...
We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope
*Steven Curtis Chapman
We thought it was supposed to be
We had so many plans for you
We had so many dreams
And now you've gone away
And left us with the memories of your smile
And nothing we can say
And nothing we can do
Can take away the pain
The pain of losing you, but ...
We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope '
Cause we know our goodbye is not the end,
And we can grieve with hope
'Cause we believe with hope
(There's a place by God's grace)
There's a place where we'll see your face again
We'll see your face again
And never have I known
Anything so hard to understand
And never have I questioned more
The wisdom of God's plan
But through the cloud of tears
I see the Father's smile and say well done
And I imagine you
Where you wanted most to be
Seeing all your dreams come true
'Cause now you're home
And now you're free, and ...
We have this hope as an anchor
'Cause we believe that everything God promised us is true, so ...
We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope
*Steven Curtis Chapman
Thursday, July 30, 2009
The Cirque
Sunday nite Tim and I went to see the cirque de soliel. Originally, Tami and I were going to, but then Mom found out, and I got her a ticket as well. Of course, this was all before the bottom droped out from under us nearly 2 weeks ago. In the end, Mom was hooked up to an IV, literally fighting for her life; and Tami wasn't in the mood to go. It was a melancholy night to be sure. It was fascinating to be sure, but I couldn't help but think how much life has changed since the tickets were bought. I couldn't help but to think how Mom would have loved that show; she had always wanted to see them, and she was so excited when I told her I got her a ticket...There were so many times I wanted to turn to her and say "we could do that" knowing full well that would be as far as it ever was to go. She always told me she wanted to be in the circus, and now as I sat there and watched the show thinking of her now; I realized it would have suited her to a T. The extreme hulla-hooper may have even brought tears to my eyes, she used to be incredulous that I couldn't do it, but she was so good at it. And the strangest thing about my sadness was that Mom was lying in her bed in the hospice unit much stronger than she had been in days past...
I've come to believe that faith makes the grieving process complicated; at least for those who are without it looking in, some tell me I'm in denial, others don't know what to make of me. "We do not mourn as those who have no hope" never really made sense until now. I really can't imagine going through all this, without that faith that sustains me day after day. I was talking to a woman who just recently lost her husband, she isn't a believer. She had no hope at all. It was the saddest thing to hear her say things like "it just breaks my heart that I'll never see him again". Wow that would be devastating indeed!! Those days when I'm inconsolable and I'm dreading that final day where I will have to say goodbye for good; sometimes the only comfort I can muster is knowing I will see her again and she will finally be pain free. I'm looking forward to that day!
I've come to believe that faith makes the grieving process complicated; at least for those who are without it looking in, some tell me I'm in denial, others don't know what to make of me. "We do not mourn as those who have no hope" never really made sense until now. I really can't imagine going through all this, without that faith that sustains me day after day. I was talking to a woman who just recently lost her husband, she isn't a believer. She had no hope at all. It was the saddest thing to hear her say things like "it just breaks my heart that I'll never see him again". Wow that would be devastating indeed!! Those days when I'm inconsolable and I'm dreading that final day where I will have to say goodbye for good; sometimes the only comfort I can muster is knowing I will see her again and she will finally be pain free. I'm looking forward to that day!
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