All wrong?

 Did you ever think you had it all figured out?

I did! Happy wife, good mother, great teacher, devoted daughter...

But what if you realized you had stuff out of order? What if you were putting your greatest efforts in the wrong place? Not that you were doing BADLY, but that the real WORK was off the mark?

We, my husband and I, recently lost a friend to a long cancer battle. He was so very strong through his fight. He mowed his grass with a feeding tube poking through his shirt because he was a landscape architect who thrived on such work. He sat at the neighborhood pool with his head on the table fighting horrible pain medication withdrawals while his boys swam because they wanted to be there. He endured years of treatment in order to create memories with his family, knowing he would not beat this formidable opponent.

I watched, prayed, cheered, offered help, cooked occasional meals, all the while praying for God to heal him. None of that was off the mark. What I didn’t catch, though, was the lesson God was teaching so many of us who cared about our friend. It wasn’t about counting the moments,  but about making the moments count.

Stephen passed away this spring. When we visited him at the hospital this Easter Sunday prior to his passing, his greatest worry was how much his care had burdened his family and friends. Rest easy, sweet friend. Your life was a blessing and a lesson for so many and your family will always feel your love!

You changed us!! You completely changed us! How?

Sounds funny but we bought a boat!  You see, responsibility is one thing, but penny-pinching for some far off crazy worry is another. We’d always dreamed of buying a boat. We vowed to be ultra responsible and pay cash. And of course, I wanted it to be like new, posh, cushy! But this spring, it became so very clear. It wasn’t about ultra-responsible. It wasn’t about full cash payment. It wasn’t about new, posh, or cushy.

It was ALL about enjoying every moment of the day with my family and friends. It was about love. So, I’m vowing to look at things differently this summer. I’m focusing on the love and the fun and the memories. I’m remembering you, dear Stephen, by enjoying every moment with family and friends and God. I’m making memories. I’m messing up my car seats to bring the dog. I got a small loan to buy a less than posh boat.  I’m letting mail pile up on the counter to go play volleyball with my daughter.

I’m putting my effort where it will endure. Thank you, Stephen. We miss you.