The day is upon us. The dreaded day. She left this morning. Saying goodbye last night was very hard. Maybe I am overreacting, but I really felt sick to my stomach. Still do. Now I know that she is only 10 hours away, a 1 day drive as my sister pointed out last night. But that is a little far to drive for birthday parties or a cup of sweet tea, or just because she needs to get away.
We had that aunt growing up--the one we could go stay with for a weekend when we just needed to get away. I enjoyed that aspect of our relationship--being the getaway. All of my sisters have been that at some point for her, but we were just around the corner. I haven't driven past the empty house yet. I am sure that will be emotional, as well, the first fifty times I do it. After they had several break-ins in the past years, will I ever get used to not looking when I go past to make sure everything is as it should be?
But, Kase, I want you to remember what I told you. I want you to give it a chance and be cooperative. And remember that even through the hard times, you are a Christian. Please remember that everything that you say and do reflects on you as a person. You are so smart and funny and caring....you won't have any trouble making friends. I love you, sweet girl! (You'll always be my first child).
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Oh, Christmas!
Oh, Christmas! How I love thee! The beautiful decorations, the giving spirit, the wonderful comforting aromas of homemade baked goods, but most especially the love of a Heavenly Father who sent His Son to earth to save me!!
I don't love the long lines in stores, pushy irritable shoppers, having a zillion presents to wrap at the last minute because I procrastinate on things like that. But this Christmas is different. Yes, the lines are still long, people are still irritable, and I still have a zillion presents to wrap. But I am sad. Yes, sad. How can one be sad at Christmas? Well, I'll tell you. The joy of spending time with my family is overshadowed this year by the events of the following week. One of my oldest sisters (there are 5 of us girls) is moving and taking with her my beloved niece. Over the past few years, my niece has become a part of my family. She is the big sister to my children, our oldest "daughter." She even calls my husband "Dad." She loves his chicken strips and camp stew. She comes over just because she loves us and has a few minutes to spare. She comes over for a cup of sweet tea after school (because we have the best). We laugh together; we cry together. You see, Virginia is a long way from here. And at 17 years old, she has spent her last birthday in Alabama with her family. This will be her last Christmas with her family. She will miss my children's birthdays for the first time ever this year. And I am sad.
But tonight, I will put on my happy face and enjoy one last chicken strip dinner with her, as dad makes her some camp stew to take with her. I hope that every time she eats chicken strips she continues to say, "There aren't as good as Dad's." And I hope that every time she laughs, she remembers the laughs we have had. And every time that she cries, she remembers crying on my shoulder. And most importantly, I hope she never forgets how much she is loved by her family here. I wish her happiness and quick adjustment, and a speedy return to Alabama. We love you, Kasey.
I don't love the long lines in stores, pushy irritable shoppers, having a zillion presents to wrap at the last minute because I procrastinate on things like that. But this Christmas is different. Yes, the lines are still long, people are still irritable, and I still have a zillion presents to wrap. But I am sad. Yes, sad. How can one be sad at Christmas? Well, I'll tell you. The joy of spending time with my family is overshadowed this year by the events of the following week. One of my oldest sisters (there are 5 of us girls) is moving and taking with her my beloved niece. Over the past few years, my niece has become a part of my family. She is the big sister to my children, our oldest "daughter." She even calls my husband "Dad." She loves his chicken strips and camp stew. She comes over just because she loves us and has a few minutes to spare. She comes over for a cup of sweet tea after school (because we have the best). We laugh together; we cry together. You see, Virginia is a long way from here. And at 17 years old, she has spent her last birthday in Alabama with her family. This will be her last Christmas with her family. She will miss my children's birthdays for the first time ever this year. And I am sad.
But tonight, I will put on my happy face and enjoy one last chicken strip dinner with her, as dad makes her some camp stew to take with her. I hope that every time she eats chicken strips she continues to say, "There aren't as good as Dad's." And I hope that every time she laughs, she remembers the laughs we have had. And every time that she cries, she remembers crying on my shoulder. And most importantly, I hope she never forgets how much she is loved by her family here. I wish her happiness and quick adjustment, and a speedy return to Alabama. We love you, Kasey.
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