Do you need some hope today? I know I do. Things are rough right now in the Ross and Sanchez families as two of our loved ones are in hospice care. Still, there are layers of experience in the sad times that I don’t want to forget. Life is never just one thing. Even within an hour there are experiences of all kinds to be found. When I have been in great physical pain, I have noticed that intense pain is not constant. I try to focus on the instants where the pain relents to see that even during painful times, there is still peace and mercy. The same is true with emotional pain.

I believe there is a universe of experiences, difficult and happy, behind every smile. So, here is a smile from my grieving face. I feel vulnerable doing this, but today I send hope in Christ to you with a smile.

Loved

Here is a list of kind things people did for us or gave to us this month when they knew we were stuck at home.

  • Prayers
  • Texts showing concern
  • Offers to shop for us
  • 100 Chick-fil-A nuggets, a salad, and wraps
  • Blueberry muffins
  • Heart shaped sugar cookies
  • A Door Dash delivery of cookies from a local bakery
  • Ice cream
  • Ice cream and root beer
  • Several bags of apples
  • 2 dozen eggs
  • Macarons in rainbow colors
  • A trip to the grocery store for basics
  • Soup and pie
  • People changed their plans.
  • People showed empathy.
  • Some people stayed on the porch to talk to us when they delivered things.
  • Emails: from friends and teachers, all very supportive
  • Phone calls
  • Mail
  • Someone took a responsibility off my list for church.
  • Our neighbor plowed our walks and driveway several times, and one of those times was at 5:30 am.
  • We had Door Dash money left over from a generous neighbor when I had surgery, so we could use the remainder to get something Richard craved.

I feel that these things are just what our Savior would do. People are good.

Grandma

Will she really be lost to us when she dies? I’m not talking about life after death, but my relationship with her. All my life, if I was lucky, I saw her once a year. Her influence wasn’t so weak as to only be there when we were together. It lived in memory, in letters I still keep, and in her uncanny ability to know when I needed something. Our understanding of one another grew as she revealed her generous nature. She pampered me in childhood, encouraged me as a teen, and mentored me as a young woman.

Wisdom in books and recipes and exchanged notes carried us through the turning point when I could be a help to her. She trusted me to write her story, to help her during an illness, and I sat with her as we drove away from her home for the last time.

Now she withdraws from us, settling into the idea of rest. My hope is that in death she’ll be restored to us more than she is now when I visit her, shrunken and white on her bed. I rouse her sometimes to say goodbye, but lately, I feel strength to let her rest, trusting that the quality of our relationship doesn’t depend upon a goodbye.

Workspace

My dad as a young teen, illustrated by Paige McLaughlin. See her work at paigemclaughlinart.com

For many weeks, Paige and I have been helping my dad work on a big project for the family. He has typed a memoir of his childhood adventures in the rolling hills and rock formations near his home in Pittsburg, CA. Paige is illustrating the stories and I am editing and formatting the book. We are mailing a few stories each week to my siblings and their children, with the goal to print and bind a complete version by early April.

It reminds me of a project that I began in January 2020 to write memories of my childhood. I wrote about 15 or 20 pages before I set it aside. Living in close quarters during the past 10 months has made it a little harder to focus on writing. Plus, I struggle to define a work space. The desks are being used, the kitchen table must be cleared often, and I need extreme quiet. This project with my dad keeps some of my desire to write alive, and inspires me to pick up old projects and not find excuses to delay.

I am making a little progress on creating a portable workspace for myself. I need to be present a lot of the time, not hidden away in an office. So, my work world revolves around a book bag and lightweight storage containers more than a single desk.

Stephen King, in his book about writing, suggests a writer should not have a massive desk that dominates a room because writing is not the primary thing. Living with your family is more important. He thinks a smaller desk in a corner is best. 🙂

December Snapshots

We made gingerbread houses with Grandma and the cousins over Zoom.
Timothy turned 18 and one of his gifts was a quilt I made from his baseball uniforms.
I spent a lot of time planning this year: consolidating errands, creating more handmade things, shopping away from crowds, finding good music, and organizing creative ways to visit and give safely.
My brother Joe and his family delivered their gifts to our porch with a song.
Richard was awarded a patent. On the plaque, he is titled, “Inventor.”
Christmas Eve Zoom Call
Grandma Ruth really liked her Squirrel calendar and held it up to the screen for a good 5 minutes.
Our dog is really showing his age right now. He is cold and off-balance, confused, and nervous. Some days are better than others. Aging stinks.
Small celebrations call for selfies.
With nowhere to go, we gave enormous Lego sets to keep everyone busy.
I made nachos instead of turkey on Christmas Day. I made beautiful dinners each Sunday, but Richard decided to photograph this meal from every angle. 😀 Everyone lingered and smiled through this gathering. Mark is sporting new contact lenses this month. He is thrilled!