Remembering Retia. . .

This was written by a close family friend on the one year anniversary of Erik's mama's leaving us and going home to be with Jesus. . .

Remembering Retia

She filled a room with her sunshine, mirroring Christ

I always felt like I was important

Her prayers, her interest

Made me feel special, a player

She always asked how you were

She meant her question

If you answered flippantly

She accepted that and accorded you respect

She was inquisitive about life

People genuinely interested her

She didn't hide her feelings

Her thoughts about you were always for good

I miss her today

As I honor her passing

A saint if there ever was one

She truly inspired thoughts about Jesus

Her husband is my best friend

He still feels the pain of her untimely death

Each day without her sunshine

His ache increases and shows in his face

Her children are honorable, Godly men

Both raising children to be followers of Christ

They married wives like their mother

Beautiful, filled with the sunshine of Jesus

A wonderful family that misses their matriarch

She is celebrated today

Her life inspires me, it calls me to the best in me

Retia Dukes was an original now home with Christ

by Clay Corvin

Pop Love!

Wow! I am so behind on posting! I think I have twenty posts that I haven't had to time to write just yet. . .

But, I will get to them. . . and soon!! :-)

For now, I'll say that we've had a wonderful weekend! Friday evening we celebrated Elijah's 2nd birthday (which took place in April, but we never had a "real" party) and Erik Daniel's first birthday! Our home was full of our closest friends and family! It was very, very fun, and that post will come! But, for now I wanted to post these three pics. Joshua loves with his whole heart, and one of his favorite people to love and love on is his Pop! Deana B caught these moments for me. She is a good friend like that ~ sees a sweet moment and grabs my camera!

Nothing feels better than a sweet, warm, tender hug from Pop. . .

And, nothing makes this little boy happier than being the center of Pop's attention. . .

Does it get any better than this when you are 6 years old. . .

sitting in Pop's lap and enjoying his love!!!???!!!

Childlike Faith

I love to see things through the simple eyes of my children. At the memorial service in Florida, one of the speakers told the story of a conversation my two older boys had with their Pop. I did not know the story, so it was very fun for me to hear it!

Imagine Pop walking flanked on each side by cute little red-headed, freckle faced boys. JCT looks up at Pop and asks, "Pop can you fall out of heaven?" Pop hesitates for a second. And, before he could come up with an answer, Joshua says,

"Well, if you did, Jesus would catch you."

Simple as that.

I love it. You are safe. Jesus is there, so you are safe. No matter if you fall, no matter if you fly, you are safe. Jesus will catch you.

If only we could all truly believe that deep into the inner-most parts of our hearts. If only we could believe that we were truly safe ~ that falling is okay, that failing is okay, because He is there ready to catch us.

Oh, don't let me get deep! We are talking about simple faith ~ like the faith of a child.

It rained a good bit yesterday, and for a couple hours I was alone at home with Joshua. We were working on school work. I left the room for a moment, and when I came back over to check his work, he said excitedly, "I have an idea!"

"What is it?" I asked.

"Well, we could write a note to Grandma on a piece of paper. Then, we could attatch the paper to a balloon, and we could go outside and let it go! And, it would float up to heaven!!!!!"

Now what do you say to that? I am perfectly aware that heaven is not a place located just above the clouds. But, right or wrong, I didn't have the heart to tell him that. And, if he wanted to send a note to his Grandma, I wasn't about to tell him that he couldn't do it. I simply could not burst his sweet little bubble!

So, I said, "Joshua, that is a great idea! We can do that tomorrow if you'd like?"

I went out and bought helium filled balloons for he and JCT. And, they wrote their own little notes. . .

Then, we headed outside to let the balloons fly free. . .

The release. . .

It was truly beautiful to watch them ascend. The notes shimmered and shined like mirrors as they got closer and closer to the clouds.

The boys ran around the yard watching the balloons go higher and higher. . .

It was very fun and very sweet. And, throughout the evening, I heard Joshua talking aloud to God, praying, "God, please let our messages get to Grandma. Please let her get our messages."

She will not be forgotten. She will be missed ~ by many, but for certain by two cute little red-headed, freckle-faced little boys!

Peace Among Us

Our family celebrated my mother-in-love's life again in a special service held at a church in Florida where Pop recently served as interim pastor. This church body loved my in-loves like crazy, and we are so very grateful.

The service was peaceful and sweet. We gathered in a crowded sanctuary and celebrated her precious life as rain fell hard upon the tin roof above us ~ soothing us with its gentle, melancholy rhythm. It was God, in my opinion, pouring down his peace upon us that day. Always among us, never leaving us, just one of the many reasons that I love Him so.

I could write all day about this service, as well as, the one we had 2 weeks ago in New Orleans. The men who spoke at both services did a wonderful job of telling the story of the beautifully sacrificial soul that we were blessed to know and be influenced and inspired by. But, rather than record the parts of the service that were caught on video camera or via audio, I want to tell you about a little something that was going on in our little row that the cameras most likely did not catch. . .

Beforehand it was decided, Pop would sit between his two sons during the service. But, just as we were about to walk into the sanctuary, JCT ran up and grabbed Pop's hand. And before I could get to him, he and Pop were halfway down the aisle. I began to panic a just a little. I knew it would be difficult to get him to let go of Pop's hand. So, I whispered to Erik as we entered our row to "Get JCT." But neither JCT nor Pop would have any part in it and rather than cause a scene we just let JCT sit where he landed which was on the far side of Pop ~ between Pop and his Uncle Jason ("Bubba").

So, now I am in panic mode because I do not have control. JCT is too far away for me to pinch him or whisper to him or threaten him ~ too far away for me to control his fun little boy behavior. :-) And, I like control. :-) As the service begins, JCT is turning around looking at the audience behind him, putting his feet up in the air, and whispering loudly to Pop. And, I am literally sweating. I keep whispering to Erik, "Get. Him. Now." And, Erik kept patting my leg saying, "It is okay. It is okay."

But, all I could think was that Pop will not be able to focus on the service, and this is horrible, and could there be a worse scenario? And, Erik, will you get. him. right. now. I have no control from over here, and he is causing a scene, and he needs to go sit with Alan or Kevin or someone farther back. Why did I not nip this one in the bud? Why did I not have him in my arms when we came down the aisle or at the very least held his hand and steered him to his assigned seat ~ right beside me!

So, after about 10 minutes of JCT and I both squirming uncomfortably in our seats, Pop picked JCT up and placed my little man on his lap. I took a deep breath. Maybe now he would be still. Maybe, Lord, just maybe. And, just as Pop put JCT on his lap the first speaker went up to the podium to speak. And, as he spoke I prayed this prayer, "Dear Lord, please entertain him with thoughts. Flood his little mind with things to think about so that he will not be bored. Please Lord, pour your peace over my little boy and give him much to think about during the rest of this service."

And, you know what?

He did more than that, oh, so much more than that. . .

He went above and beyond my imagination and my feeble prayer. A few minutes later, I looked over and noticed that Pop was gently tickling JCT's arm. And, I calmed down a little. I took a deep breath and listened to the words of the speaker mixed with the gentle rhythm of the rain. Maybe Erik was right. Maybe it would be okay. The next time I looked over at JCT, he was sound asleep on Pop. And, as the various speakers spoke and singers sang, I couldn't help but continue to periodically look at my little man and his Pop. His breathing was slow and soft and soothing. And, if ever you have held in your arms a child whom you love deeply while he sleeps and you have felt the rises and falls of his sweet little chest against yours then you know the peace that they can bring to your soul. And, I prayed it for Pop. I prayed that God would manifest His peace to him through the tenderness of this sleeping little boy. And, he slept on Pop the rest of the service, and the memory is priceless to me.

Absolutely priceless.

(At this point I could write a little something about how I learned a lesson about how I should just relax and not try so hard to control things because God is really the one in control, and He has a greater purpose. . . . Yeah, yeah, but I'm not going to write it because even though I can see that this was the case, I can assure you that tomorrow I will still try to control things! So, I won't pretend that I'm a changed woman! ;-))

In Jesus' Arms. . .

It is through tear-filled eyes that I am attempting to put this post together.

My sweet husband was three hours from the hospital when he received the call that Jesus had called his precious mother home.

Thanks so much to those who prayed.

But, you know what I know without a doubt?

I know that she knows.

She knows her big boy loves her because he told her over and over and over and over while she was with him. He loved her well, and I have been blessed to have witnessed that love in action as he cared for her each weekend over the past few months.

I'll never forget watching him walk into her hospital room and take command. He'd open the blinds. Talk to her sweetly. Do his little physical therapy routine on her while I constantly assured her that he loved her so much and that is why he was working her so hard! He'd ask her 100s of questions to check her memory. Watching him look her over with a doctor's eye. Watching him spoon feed her and clean her up. Yes, he loved her well.

Her children arose and called her blessed. She couldn't have asked for more.

I think the thing that makes me the most sad is when I think about how little of her my sons will know. Joshua will remember the most, but even he has a mere 6 years worth of memories. It just makes me that much more determined to keep her memory alive.

Who was she, you ask?

Oh, do let me tell you a bit about her. . .

We are blessed to have walked with her. Her heart was pure and selfless. Her hands were those of a servant. I have met few like her on my journey thus far. A humble, beautiful soul.

She loved me for who I am. She never thought I, or anyone else for that matter, needed to be anything or anyone other than exactly who they are. She loved with every fiber of her being. She gave the most amazing love pats. She could pat legs like she could beat eggs ~ with amazing wrist power! She was something special. Brutally honest. Always saying exactly what she thought. She told my parents the first time ever she met them that "Jimmy and I are praying Erik marries your daughter." Erik and I had known each other only a few months, and my parents were flattered but a bit surprised! The best was when she told Brother (Sean) that he looked like George Castanza! She was a great lady. But, the most remarkable thing about her was the way she believed in those she loved. For instance. . .

She thought I could do no wrong ~ even though my inadequacies were ever present and unfortunately quite obvious.

She thought I was a wonderful mother ~ even when she witnessed me losing my temper with her beloved grandsons.

She thought I was a great cook ~ even when I made a complete mess of dinner.

She thought I was a precious wife ~ even when she watched her son carry most of the weight.

She thought I was a wonderful housekeeper ~ even when there were cobwebs in every corner of my house and crumbs all over my floors.

She thought I was tiny ~ even when I was 9 months pregnant with my fourth son.

She thought I was a great writer ~ even when I couldn't put two thoughts together to save my life.

She thought I was organized ~ even when my counter tops had clutter piled to ceilings.

She thought I was beautiful ~ even when I first got up in the morning with dark circles under my eyes and no make-up on my face.

She thought I was a wonderful hostess ~ even when I didn't have time to make sweet tea or change the sheets on the guest bed before she arrived.

She thought I could do ANYTHING that I wanted to do ~ even though I am extremely fearful and consumed with self-doubt.

She believed in me.

She always and only built me up. I could have asked for no more in a mother-in-love. Her faith was simple and sweet. I will miss her something fierce.

I talked to my husband a while ago, and he was in her room saying goodbye. His voice was pure peace, and I can't tell you how it soothed my soul to hear it. He said, "Well, Baby, she is pretty. She is pale, and she is pretty, but she is not here. She is lifeless. Her spirit is gone. She is in Jesus' arms now." Peace. That is the kind of peace that only comes from One Source and One Source alone.

Erik called around bedtime to tell the big boys. I had one on each side of me holding them in my arms. I put the phone on speaker, and Erik began to explain to the boys what happened to their sweet Grandma. The conversation went something like this, "Boys, you know how we are spirit, and we relate to God through our spirit. You know, how we talk about that we are Spiritual beings? Well, Grandma's Spirit went to be with Jesus today. And, now she is well. Jesus gave her a brand new body, and she can walk and talk and do all the things she used to be able to do. And, her new body is even better than her old one!"

Joshua was grinning from ear to ear. He even let out an "Awesome!" as he listened to his Dad talk about Grandma's new body. But, it wasn't until a little later in the conversation when JCT very astutely asked, "So, are you saying Grandma died?" When Erik said yes, Joshua picked up the front of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his face and my big boy's little dam broke. He finally understood that he wouldn't see his Grandma again on this earth.

But, praise God, he will see her again one day!

After the conversation with Erik, I sat on the couch and held my little man as he cried and cried. I couldn't help being so thankful. So thankful that he loved her so much. So thankful that he had such a precious Grandma to love for the first 6 years of his life. May he always remember what a precious and loving lady she was.

Please continue to pray for our family.

Their Little Game

They used to play this little game. I think it began when Erik was in college. As he would pull out of the driveway, he would roll his window down and yell to his mom, "Bye, I love you." And, she would yell back, "Bye, I love you." He'd back his car out a few feet and once again yell, "Bye, I love you." And, she would respond, "Bye, I love you." They would continue this until Erik was finally out of earshot. Many times I have been in the passenger seat while this sweet little game was played out between the two of them, and often her end was yelled out between tears. She loves her boys.

Well, not this past weekend, but the weekend before, Erik once again played this game with his mom as he slowly backed out of her hospital room. When he finally made his way out of her room, he stuck his head back in for a few more surprise, "Bye, I love you's." She responded to every one her sweet voice echoing his. Erik and I were both teary when we got on the elevator that evening.

Right now Erik is driving those familiar highways to New Orleans in hopes that he will make it there in time to say those words to his mother one more time. And, maybe Lord willing, that he will be able to say them over and over and over again to her over the coming years. But, all that is uncertain at the moment.

Late yesterday evening after we had driven home from a weekend in New Orleans, Pop called us to let us know that Erik's mom's oxygen sats were not staying up even with oxygen on her. Then, a bit later we got a call that her blood pressure was down. Then, another call saying it had gone back up. Then, another call saying that her respirations were 28/min, and they were admitting her to ICU. Then, another call saying that her blood pressure was 89/30. Then, another call saying that they were intubating her, putting her on a respirator, and putting in a central line and giving her vasopressors. Whew, it was a night, a night none of us will forget. Then, late this morning brought us word that they were going to have to dialyze her. So, that is where we are right now. We covet your prayers.

If you are reading this Monday afternoon, please, please, please pray that Erik makes it to the hospital before anything happens.

A Favor

If my life were a story, she would be one of my favorite characters. For the last 8 years, I have seen her nearly once a week when I drop off my dry cleaning. She has a genuineness about her that draws me to her, and her soul is undeniably rich. She has lived what I can gather from the stories she tells me a difficult life - raising 8 children without much money. But, she persevered, and her children are grown and have done well for themselves. Although she sees me every week or so, it is not uncommon for her to follow me out to the car so she can gasp and squeal at how cute my little boys are, how much they look like my husband, and how much they have grown.

Every time I come in, our conversation consists of 3 elements. . .

1.) How I look like "one of those old college girls. . ."
2.) How she is going to leave this place and go live with one of her daughters in Little Rock. "She just keeps begging me to come, and I'm gonna do it. One of these days I'm gonna go. . ." So, every time I enter the store and see her sitting on her little stool, I say the same thing, "Well, I see you are still here with us!" She just throws her head back and laughs a hardy, full belly laugh and assures me that she is going. . . one of these days. . . she is going.
3.) How she loves. her. doctor. (my Erik).

But, yesterday our visit was different. It was deep and moving. She cried, and I choked back tears as she shared something special with me. Last night as Erik and I lay together in the dark I shared our conversation with him word for word as best I could remember it. And, I could tell, even though I could not see his face, that he was moved. He has no idea the impact God makes on other people through him.

Our conversation went something like this. . .

Me: Well, I see you are still here!

Ms. D: Yes, I'm still here (chuckle). . . You know, I want to tell you somethin'. I am so proud of my doctor. I love my doctor. He saved my life. I wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for him. I believe that. You see, he's a good doctor cause he keeps lookin'. He just kept lookin' 'til he figured out what was wrong wit me. That's what makes him a good doctor. He worries 'bout his patients, thinks 'bout them, 'til he figures it out. I'm so proud of him. But, you know what it is? I tell you what it is that makes him a good doctor. He listens to God, the great physician. He told Dr. D. what was wrong wit me. That is how Dr. D. knew what was wrong wit' me. He asked God and God told him. And, that is why he's a good doctor. He listens to God. . . I love him. I tell you, I love him. He really cares, I tell you, he really cares. How are his parents?

Me: Well, his Dad is doing great, but it will be a long road for his mom. But, they are doing much better - bit by bit, day by day. . .

Ms. D.: Oh, good! I tell you I pray for them. Yes, I do. I pray all the time. I talk to God just like I'm talking to you. I just say what I'm thinkin' that is the kind of relationship we have. I just speak what's on my mind. I have prayed for his parents. . . even gone to the altar to pray for them. I had on high heels, but I didn't let that stop me. Even in my high heels, I got down on my knees at the altar and prayed for them. (At this point her deep voice began to crack.) I tell you what I said to God. I said, "Lord, please help these people. He is a good man. Dr. D. is a good man. Don't let him hurt. Please, Lord. (tears rolling down her weathered brown cheeks) Now, God, Dr. D. did a favor for me, and I am going to ask You to do a favor for him. Make his parents well. Dear Lord, make his parents well." And, you know what, Mrs. D., I believe. As I got up and walked away from the altar I just knowed. I just knowed in my heart. I believe He's going to do it. I can't explain it. I just know.

Me: (fighting tears) Wow. I appreciate that so much. I know Erik will, too. I'll tell him, but do me a favor and tell him that the next time you see him. It will encourage him so much. We love to hear that people are praying.

Mrs. D.: You take care of those boys now, you hear?

Me: Don't worry, I will! I love you.

Mrs. D.: Oh, baby, I love you, too.

It is amazing the power of words. I had chills all afternoon as I pondered the thought that this humble, sweet lady would ask God to do a favor for us.

Hidden behind baggy clothes and aging brown skin, is a soul with a beauty not of this world.

Be Angry and Sin Not.

I don't get out much, but last night two very sweet husbands let their grateful wives have a night out ~ at least for an hour ~ which we managed to stretch to 2 hours ~ but that is another story. I just happen to be one of those two grateful wives. And, while we were at dinner, we talked a great deal about Erik's parents. We talked a lot about anger. Erik and his brother have both used the phrase "It is what it is," in their posts on their parents' caringbridge site when discussing their mother's condition. It is what it is, and nothing we can do can change it. No amount of doctoring. No amount of anger. No amount of hope. We can pray. We can believe. But, we within ourselves do not have the power to change it. It is what it is. My sweet friend kept saying, "But, they just don't seem angry. How are they not angry?" I assured her that the anger is there. And, as if he knew of our conversation and wanted to put his two cents in, my father-in-love wrote the post below on the caringbridge site yesterday.

I am posting his post for you to read and be encouraged by his words. But, more than that I am posting it so that I have it in a place that I can go to and read it whenever I need to. And, even more than that, I want my boys to have it. I want them to read it ~ to know the faith of their grandfather even amidst his life's greatest trial. Prov. 20:7

And, here it is. . .

Be Angry and Sin Not.

Jesus taught us a little about anger and how to deal with it. He seemed to say that anger can sometimes be a useful thing, but we are not to let Satan use it as a toehold to get us off on the wrong track.

I must confess that I have had to deal with anger relatively often in recent months. Fortunately, I have been able to get into my right mind and move on from it quickly. I realize that anger, even acted on, would not change our situation, but there is a strong temptation to try.

My pain, which on some days accumulates to such a degree that I think I cannot stand it, sometimes just makes me angry. However, when I am able to think through it, I realize that my pain does not even come close to measuring up to what Retia is going through. I confess that when I sit in the hospital room and watch her as she is right now in the struggles she is going through and compare that to what she was, my anger burns furiously.

Sometimes the anger is directed at the person who was driving and should not have been. Sometimes it is directed at the alleged law officer who failed so miserably in her duties. And yes, sometimes it is directed at God.

Now, I have been a follower of Christ since 1949. More than that, I have been associated with the church. and the teachings of Christ even longer, so I know that God does not deserve my anger. But do you know what I have learned (by experience)? That God is strong enough to tolerate my anger and still love me.

Like a loving human parent, I have learned that God is able to listen to the rantings of his children and the questions about things that happen and the intervention that does not always come, and yet he is able to continue to be God with all the love and mercy and grace that he has always revealed to us. He is not changed by our anger. He is still love.

I can almost hear him say audibly, "Hey, I understand your disappointment and hurt and anger. But I still love you." He also reminds me, as he did the psalmist, that in spite of my perceptions of the wrong choices of others whose consequences I suffer, my wrong choices, or even the perceived inaction from him, he will walk with me through the storm and will work good out of horrible circumstances.

So I must confess to him that he is not safe, but he is able to keep me secure. I must confess to him that what bothers me so much is that the love of my life is suffering way too much and I do not believe it is her fault. That makes me mad. The people whose fault it seems to be are going on as usual. Then he reminds me that however much I love her, he loves her even more. He made her and he can take care of her whatever the problem is. So, forgive me for the anger and help me to see through your eyes.

So now you know why I say to Jason don't try to make me feel better in my misery. Just let me stew for a while.

We had another meeting with the Drs, nurses, and therapists today. The prognosis is that the trends are good, but that does not mean everything will be OK. We just don't know that yet. We are still hoping and praying for that end, but in the light of what we have learned about God, we are growing into a position where we will see things as he sees them and love her as he loves her whatever the circumstances (even as he does for us all).

Pray for Retia as she struggles with therapy. Pray for the healing of this pernicious bedsore. Pray for her comfort as she struggles to deal with the everyday pain and suffering. Thanks for standing by us.

Little Miracles. . .

Walking through the journey of Erik's parent's accident has been a series of little miracles. And, every week when Erik makes that 6 hour drive home, he returns encouraged because he has witnessed another little miracle. Progress is slow but, it has, at least so far, remained constant. Thank You, Jesus!

Years before the accident, Grandma made Build a Bears for each of the boys. And, I will never forget the first time after the accident, when Grandma lay still in a coma, that I accidently stepped on Joshua's bear's paw and heard her voice, "Hi, Joshua, this is Grandma. Be a good little boy. We love you. We're praying for you." It was a hard moment. Joshua and I just looked at each other both wondering if we would ever hear that familiar voice again.

Well, good news, we have heard her sweet voice once again! The other day Erik came home from work, handed his cell phone to Joshua, and said, "Someone wants to talk to you." He took the phone from his Daddy, and said, "Hi, Pop!" Then, a few minutes later he looked up at Erik and said, "Is it Pop?" Erik encouraged him to listen, and a minute or two later he realized who was on the other end of the phone telling him that she loved him! His eyes lit up, and he smiled from ear to ear. Later that evening we went to church, and Joshua bragged to every person who would stand still long enough for him to them that. . . "My Grandma can talk! She told me she loved me on the phone today!" And, our church body rejoiced with him!

Since the accident happened, my Joshua has thought of little else. His school papers throughout the month of May were covered in pictures of Pop, Grandma, the accident, the car that hit them, the police, their hospital rooms, their names written on hearts and stars, etc. It is easy to understand why psycologists analyze the art of children. It is a window to their heart. I remember sometime after the accident Joshua drew a series of pictures of his Grandparents. In the first they were leaving guest housing across the street from the seminary. The sun was smiling and so were Grandma and Pop. Then, he drew a picture of the car that hit them, Grandma and Pop laying on the ground, and he wrote the word, "Oops" at the top. The next picture had the police talking to the man who hit Grandma and Pop. The man was saying, "Oops," and the police were saying, "No!" And, in that picture the sun that had once been smiling was now crying. When he brought me these pictures and told me the story, tears filled my eyes as he pointed out to me, "Look, Mommy, see the sun is smiling here, and here it is sad and crying." A glimpse into my little man's soul. Children draw what they are thinking.

So, it was of no surprise to me that Joshua drew this picture the day after he heard his Grandma's voice. . .

Complete with stapled on tissue for her covers! I love that little creative boy!

And, he would want me to point out to you that if you lift up her covers, you can see her feet. . .

He is proud of that!

Anyway, I thought I'd add a picture that JCT drew of Pop just for fun!

Thanks again for your prayers! We are seeing little miracles every week!

My Little Lily of the Valley. . .

It was sunny and warm this morning, so the boys and I played outside for an hour or so. It feels healthy and good and right to be outside in the sunshine ~ especially when you are in the company of little boys.

Every year I am amazed at how the blackberry bushes multiply. It seems they are everywhere. And, at present, they have cute little white flowers as a promise to me that fruit will soon come. Everything is so alive, so green, so lush from the spring rains, and so beautiful. And, all you have to do is walk out the backdoor and you can smell it ~ the honeysuckle is beginning to bloom. I picked one to show JCT the drop of sweetness inside. He wasn't nearly as impressed as I was. But, I showed it to him all the same. There was a woodpecker having its way with some poor tree nearby as we walked. JCT wanted to wander into the woods, but I reminded him that Mr. and Mrs. Snake live there, and we better steer clear of them and their family. And, a large bee flew out of nowhere and scared Elijah to pieces, bless his heart. As we walked along, I took a special little detour to look at my favorite spring bloom - the lilies of the valley. And, as I stared at them a thought washed over me. . .

After a good bit of play, we came in, ate lunch, and, now, I am happy to report that all little boys are sleeping peacefully. The weather has changed dramatically since this morning. The clouds are dark and ominous. A spring storm can't be too far away creating the perfect setting for an afternoon nap. And, I am celebrating with a hot cup of coffee with French Vanilla creamer.

I'm not sure when I discovered how much I like lilies of the valley. I remember asking the florist before my wedding to give me a price on a bouquet of lilies of the valley to carry on my wedding day. I don't remember the amount she told me, but it was too much. And, I settled for a combination of soft pink and cream colored roses mixed with a few tulips (because Erik loves tulips). When we moved into our home 8 years ago this summer, I was thrilled beyond imagination to see that the previous owner had planted a large number of lilies of the valley in the backyard.

I think the reason that I love them so is that they draw no attention to themselves. In fact, if you aren't paying attention you might just step on them. They are tiny, very tiny. But, they are perfectly made, and if you look closely, the detail is amazing. They are simple and sweet. And, as I thought about them during our walk this morning, I couldn't help but make the comparison between these precious flowers and my precious mother-in-love.

She never draws attention to herself ~ especially not when she is in a group. She is simple and sweet, and if you take the time to get to know her, you will see that her detail is amazing. She is a servant by nature, a beautiful soul, that asks nothing in return for her offering. She just gives to give because she enjoys lending a hand, but mostly because God designed her that way. She has always been patient and kind, gentle and loving, humble and gracious, but at the same time, strong and sure.

Please pray that she wakes up all the way, ya'll. I am raising four boys, and she raised two of the most excellent that I know. I need her counsel. I need her.

I asked Erik one time what did his mama do, what was her role in his life? In other words, what is my role as the mother of boys? I asked him, "What did she do to help make you who you are today?" His answer. . .

"She was my confidence. She believed in me with all her heart. She thought that I could be anything or do anything that I wanted, and she made me believe it, too."

I can back him on this. She once told me, (you know, since I wasn't around when Erik played high school and college basketball), that "he could play basketball as well as Michael Jordan." No hesitation. She believed it. She meant every word of it. I had to hide my chuckle because she. was. serious.

She may be sweet and gentle, but she is steadfast and secure.

She knows what she believes and she knows in Whom she believes.

No doubt.

The lily of the valley.

One thing that I have noticed over the years. . .

Though they are delicate, they weather the spring storms well. We've had a lot of wind and rain, but they are still standing. May God allow my little lily of this valley to weather her storms with the same strength and beauty.

A New Kind of Therapy. . .

I like to call it. . .

Baby Therapy. . .

And, it does the heart good. Just look at Pop's face. . .


I tell you this kind of therapy is better than any medicine. . .


At least it is with this grandchild loving Pop!


I kept worrying that Erik Daniel might hurt Pop with all of his wiggling, but Pop insisted that he was fine. And, he wanted to be close to this sweet little boy. And, my little boy wanted to be close to his sweet Pop.

Here is my favorite picture of them. . .



Precious.

Now, don't you think that made him feel a little better?

I do.

As you can see, Erik, Erik Daniel, and I went to New Orleans for the weekend. And, it was an amazing trip for so many reasons!!! So, let me tell you why. . .

I think we were about 45 minutes from New Orleans when Erik received a call from a man who was assessing Mom for admittance into a long term acute care facility. He informed Erik that she had moved her toes on command for him.

What?????!!!!!!????

For the first time, my husband lit up with hope! She had responded to a verbal command. This was huge. HUGE.

We got a little further down the road ~ actually we were on that really long bridge that goes from Slidell to New Orleans ~ when Jason called. He and Erik had previously decided that we would meet at the Praline Connection to eat before Jason had to fly home. But, Jason was suggesting that we meet at the hospital instead. Erik was afraid that going to the hospital first would take too much time and that Jason would miss his flight. But, then, Jason explained. . .

Mom opened her eyes!!!!!!!

She looked at Jason and mouthed the words, "I love you," to him!!!!!!!

Erik said, "Okay, yes, then we will meet you at the hospital!"

It was a miracle weekend. She didn't open her eyes again that day, but the next morning she opened her eyes for Erik and mouthed his name. Unfortunately I wasn't with him!!!! But, later that night I got to see those brown eyes myself!!!!

We went to visit her, and Erik is ruthless, I tell you. He rubs her shoulder and talks loudly in her ear, "Mom, it is Erik. I love you. Erin is here with me. She wants to see your brown eyes. Show her your pretty brown eyes, Mama. Show them to her. Open your eyes, Mama. Open your eyes and look at Erin. She is standing right in front of you. She wants to see your pretty brown eyes. Hey! Hey! Hey, brown eyes, open your pretty brown eyes, Mama. We love you. We're praying for you. Now, open those pretty brown eyes and look at Erin." And, finally after the one millionth time he asked her, a little miracle happened, and she ever so slowly, as if her eyelids weighed a ton, with great concentration and inner strength, she opened up her pretty brown eyes and looked at me.

And, I couldn't help but cheer for her! "Good job, Mom. Good job! You did so good! Thank you for letting me see your eyes! You are so strong! You are getting better every day! Good job, Mom! I love you."

I can't tell you the pride that welled up in me when I saw her open her sweet eyes!!!

And, because I need to go to bed, I am going to come full circle and end this post. We went back to see her today. She is in a new hospital, and I didn't know the rules about babies. So, rather than ask, we just decided to take Erik Daniel and see what would happen.

No one said anything to us. We walked right by several staff members and into Mom's room.

Erik did his little number where he asks her over and over again to open her pretty brown eyes while he rubs her shoulder with gentle force. He told her that Erik Daniel was with us, so she should open those pretty brown eyes and look at him. Erik Daniel cooed and giggled in my arms. And, I knew she could hear him, and I know what those sounds do to me, and I prayed that they would have the same effect on her. After several minutes of trying so hard to open her eyes, she finally got them about halfway open. So, I held Erik Daniel like superman in the air, so he would be in her line of vision. After that she mouthed a sentence or two that we couldn't make out for sure, and then, once again, she drifted back into a peaceful sleeping state.

Baby Therapy.

It is a good thing, just ask Pop!

And, speaking of Pop I must throw this picture in. . .

Erik and I bought him this shirt because we think he is Superman, and we love him sooooooo much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!