The Grass Is Green Enough

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Ants

August 09, 2020

When I opened the pantry door, my heart sank. There they were, millions of them it seemed, crawling all over a box of Raisin Bran. They were having an absolute hay day! Ugh! As if the year of COVID weren’t bad enough, for some unknown reason, our house has been infested with ants this year. In the bathroom. In the kitchen. The spice cupboard. The pantry. Every time I opened a door, it seemed I found more. I grabbed some spray and annihilated the group that had found the cereal. I hoped that would be the end of it. Until it wasn’t. A few weeks later, I opened up the china hutch to grab a wine glass. More ants! They had found a crystal sugar bowl that apparently was put away with sugar in it! It was a party for sure. This time, I decided to tackle the problem in a different way. Instead of spraying, I put out zillions of ant traps. I followed their trail and placed them all along their path. For several days, I just watched them carry away the “food” to their nes

The Sound of Silence

August 02, 2020

It’s been 14 months since we tragically lost our son to suicide. Actually, 447 days to be exact. In the beginning, there was a tsunami of love and support poured out on our family, for which we are forever grateful. But as time goes on, a blanket of silence has slowly crept in. I recently read that the second year of grief can sometimes be harder than the first. I think one of the reasons may be that the initial shock has passed, most of the affairs have been attended to, and the dust has settled, so to speak. People think we’ve moved on, and they certainly don’t want to bring up our lost one’s name for fear that it will stir up more grief. Truth is, it’s just the opposite. The silence is deafening. Even within my own family, we talk less and less about our lost son, sometimes not at all. It’s not that we aren’t thinking about him; it’s just that we avoid the subject because we don’t want to invite sadness into our gatherings. We’re just trying to move forward and enjoy each m

Our Best Made Plans

March 05, 2020

"We Can Make Our Best Plans, but the Lord Guides Our Path" (Proverbs 16:9, NLT) We embarked on our 15-day cruise to Hawaii, which was scheduled to leave San Francisco on Monday, January 27 th and return on Tuesday, February 11 th . The ship’s route included ports of call in Hilo, Honolulu, Kauai, and Maui, followed by a quick stop in Ensenada, Mexico. Why Mexico? Well, apparently, the Jones Act, a federal law that regulates maritime commerce in the United States, required the ship to pass through international waters before returning to San Francisco. Everything was going along smoothly – until it wasn’t. Things happened. Someone on board became critically ill and needed to go to a hospital. The ship’s captain, JP, made the decision to turn the ship around so that the passenger could be disembarked and given medical care in Hawaii. Never mind that we had left Maui the day before and had already traveled 400 miles. He made a U-turn right there in the middle of t

The Things We Pack

February 15, 2020

I gazed out the window of our cruise ship cabin. Grey-blue waves seemed to stretch out infinitely over the horizon. We were 700 miles from San Francisco where we’d departed, headed for Hawaii. Tears welled up in my eyes, fogging up my glasses. Why am I so sad? I should be enjoying this vacation, not pining away at this window. But I couldn’t help it. The ocean view was just a visual reminder of the endless grief waves that keep crashing over me. Even though it’s been a little over eight months, they just keep coming. Will they ever stop? The grief books assure me they will eventually slow down. I sure hope so! Back in the fall, we planned the late-January vacation knowing that the holidays, followed by Adam’s birthday two weeks after Christmas, would likely leave us drained. We were right. As we packed the Sunday before, I asked Don, “Do you think there will ever be a day when we don’t think about losing him?” “We’ll never stop thinking about him,” Don said. “But

To My Birthday Boy

January 04, 2020

Hi Adam, your birthday is right around the corner – Wednesday, January 8 th . You would have been 29 years young. We miss you so much and think of you every day. I remember that Tuesday morning you entered the world like it was yesterday. You arrived at 11:14 a.m., just in time for lunch. Not too early, not too late. It was a perfect day in every way (except for the labor part, but an epidural helped with that!) You weighted in at 8 lbs., 9 oz., wearing your daddy’s sky blue eyes, with soft wisps of blond hair. Everyone thought you were a beautiful baby, and you were. On your birthday each year, dad and I went out of our way to make your celebration special. I think we just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel slighted since your birthday was two weeks after Christmas. So many fun parties, outings, pizza and paintball, rowdy times with your friends. I think your favorites were the video game all-nighters. Those never seemed to get old. There’s

Adam's Tree

December 14, 2019

Somehow, I mustered the courage to open the box and peek inside. Deep breath, Mary, you can do this. One by one, I unwrapped the ornaments from their tissue paper cocoons and hung them on the branches. Of course, the floodgates opened. Baby’s first Christmas – 1991, a baseball – 1997, computer wizard – 2005, red convertible – 2007, holiday camping tent – 2009. They are gifts from my mother-in-law, “Grandma Connie,” who bought each of the kids a yearly ornament until they reached adulthood. The eclectic collection used to hang on the family tree all together, but when the kids grew up, I separated them into their own boxes so they could take their treasures with them. What should I do with Adam’s box of ornaments? I wondered. Val suggested I decorate a small tree with them, which seemed like a good idea. That is, until I opened the box. I’ve learned in my support group that we cannot go around the pain that is grief, or over it, or under it – we must go through it. Alan W

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