Time flies, whether we like it or not

It was a year ago yesterday that I wrote about being Irish on my Mom’s side.  I hadn’t slept the night before, for thinking about her. That morning  I’d talked to her caregivers and heard how healthy she’d stayed last winter and that she was their all-time favorite resident.  Then, that afternoon, while Peter and I were at the audiologist’s in Rexburg, Judy called and said Mother had taken a turn a big turn for the worst.

It was a year ago tomorrow that Judy sat by her bedside, held her hand, told her we all loved her, and said it was OK, that she could let go and be with Dad. And she did, just like that. And within a few more days, we were at her service.

It seems impossible that the last 12 months went by so fast. What did I do? Where was I?  Hmmm. Oh yeah, I did lots of things; I was here and there, all over. 

This weekend I’ve again been thinking about how blessed I was growing up.

We’ve been doing some spring-cleaning today, and I found something I thought Mom would like if I share.  (Dad, too — and he’s been gone 20 years this June — another amazing fact.) 

Actually, I found two things — this photo, from an album which meant so much to her — on the occasion of their meeting Pope John Paul II in the fall of 1988. On that trip to Rome, Mom and Dad were lucky enough to shake hands and visit with the Holy Father two different times, first at a public audience at Saint Peter’s, and then at a private Mass with the Pope and Wyoming Bishop Joseph Hart at Castel Gandolfo–which is when this snapshot was taken.

The other little thing to share I found was scrawled into a notebook (with some notes about family geneology) from a trip I took with her to Wichita to see Aunt Muggins (Dad’s sister and the person who introduced them way back when). 

Some might find it a little corny, but my mother (who was never much of a cook otherwise) certainly knew how to keep this tasting A-OK for her family.

A HAPPY HOME RECIPE
Take love and loyalty and mix thoroughly with faith. Blend with tenderness, kindness and understanding. Add friendship and hope, sprinkle abundantly with laughter. Bake it in sunshine, with just enough rain to grow. Serve daily in generous helpings.  

I didn’t think the number of cups was all that important, but it’s noteworthy that the ingredient that’s included in the largest proportion is “a barrel of laughter.”

On yet another snowy, blowy late afternoon in Wydaho, I remember you with a love that will never die, Mom and Dad!

Care about a kid?

I’m not LDS, but glad to share this thought-provoking piece by Orson Scott Card, a well-respected best-selling author of kids’ books. Although it’s directed to others within that church, it contains gems of wisdom for ALL communities who value their young people — especially poignant in our own little Valley with its too-frequent teen-age suicides.

When I read the first part I was reminded of President Obama’s State of the Union address when he said “winners of the science fair should be celebrated as well as winners of the Super Bowl” (or something to that effect.)

What does YOUR community choose to recognize?

I post it here to give you all cause to pause and reflect on the young people who don’t quite fit in or prompt their elders to frustration — and to wonder what would be lost if they don’t grow up to adulthood.

And it carries double weight for me today, as Teton County voters go to the polls to (hopefully) approve the continuation of two levies that support our public schools. More on that tomorrow.