Fruit from my Grief Tree!

The darkness of grief, I often talk about as a seed that was placed in the ground. I remember 21 years ago yesterday and my sisters carrying me to the shower and the feeling of not having, knees to stand for the funeral. I think that I will die before we get into the church. I remember the voice of neice Helena strengthening my knees and allowing me, not only to stand up, but to find faith to praise God amidst the darkness and sorrow.
Yesterday, the tree was 21 years old and we had our church choir concert. Every song was like a sweet piece of fruit that said, "death, where is your sting."
It hurts worse than anything else, but the love of God is above the pain like the sky is above the tree.
Sometimes, the shadow of the grief is so dark that I can't see past it. But, God lets a piece of fruit hit me on the head, to help me to see the sky load of restoration and blessing that I am in ownership of. I have a tendency of sitting under that one tree all March. The funk is putrid, but I always grow from the reproofs and blessings that God bestows, as He holds my broken heart in His hands and points out the unbelief that carries so much infection. I am grateful for every comfort and grace and love.Music from the Central Church Choir

Tomorrow is Aunt RaRa Day!

TO GOD BE THE GLORY, GREAT THINGS HE HAS DONE.
RESTORATION OF FAMILY, AFTER LOSS...HALLELUIA!
BABY BEN AND A HAPPY MOMMY...ME

GRANDMA RUTH AND ELIJAH
I love that Aunt Roz gave me something else to celebrate, other than what tomorrow's memory always brings. She was aware and deliberately didn't go to the baby's funeral. Everybody is coming to the funeral, Jayne. I know that you will understand, she said to me, in my malaise, It is my birthday. Happy Birthday, Auntie, I said to her. I was in shock and I hardly could think, in my pain. But, through the years, her memory will always be connected with the pain of my heart. I am so grateful for the comfort of the memory of every face that wished me well on that day of my greatest suffering so far. Every face and every hug is emplanted on my comfort place, with hyacinths and beauty. Aunt Roz is on the other side, when my heart goes to the reality of the pain her face not being there is there: a kind of anticomfort, comfort. Something to celebrate, in spite of the pain that is the reality. There will be a new day, she said. You will have more children, though this pain will never be replaced with them. God is good. I am grateful for the mercies of God. For Aunt RaRa Day, I bought rollers and did my hair and Evvy's hair with the old fashioned sponge rollers and we celebrate Aunt RaRa's and her generation's hair fettishes. I love them now, though I will never agree with the priority that they placed on the hair. I do love them and remember them with the stories of my tears of my tussled hair, not being accepted, with fondness. Do your hair, Jayne! This too will pass!

0% fat, 100% Delicious!

Down here they have all kinds of healthconscious and money conscious bill boards. It is not like NY where all of the bill boards have to do with shows and such. There are some, but most of them have to do with some kind of useful product. We were on the way to church and on our way into the city. A huge billboard lofted and showed this beautiful Greek yogurt. CHOBANI? I never saw that before. I will buy it today. I went to the store and bought it.
Absolutely, the most delicious yogurt. I don't know how they do it. I was glad that I paid attention to that advertisement. I bought it and now I am trying to imitate it in my house with other yogurts. I can't. Hopefully, it will get me off of ice cream?

"Shut yu Mout" Go away...Mama look a booboo day

We really didn't celebrate Purim, like we like to.

I wore my purple, in honor of Queen Esther and the beauty of the protection of God, seen in that Biblical lesson. But we didn't sit around and act it out like we used to.


Today is St. Patrick's Day. We celebrate that too. The celebrations of cultures coming out of idolatry to learn about the God of the scriptures. It is a wonderful story that we used to read and act out. Veggietales has a great movie that includes that story in childlike form, that the children just love.
Thank Ju for the beautiful purple skirt that I had for my Purim.




I am getting my teeth worked on again, today. Ouch!

Hey, Mikey!

Somebody's birthday is coming? I remember, although, I can't always say Happy Birthday to my first, baby, boy cousin. I remember holding him on my lap and wishing, that they would give him to me. Mommy had a big tummy and Lorraine was upstairs at grandma Ruth's house. We were begging for him. Mommy was crying and I was crying.
Please, please, send him to our house. She said no, you have enough on your plate. You can't even take what you already have, another baby is on the way.
Mike got to spend 5 blissful years in the love of another mother. We missed him horribly. I cried and cried and kissed the mole on his head and wished, as hard as I could. Please God, send him back to us. God waited 5 years and sent him back and I had forgotten that I had wished for him then. I was hardened by the sadness of not getting my way, back then.
I am so grateful for the fullness of relationships and memories that we enjoy with one another. Love that is deep and deeply held together from common scars that have been healed by the grace and mercy of God. I love my Mikey and I am grateful that God sent his little head back to our house, even though he had to sacrifice his loves to come with us. I am sorry that I didn't treat you like the wanted boy that you were. We wanted you, so badly. We just didn't know how to tell you. :)

In my fridge, was a piece of cake, like Grandma, used to make.

Its wrong to eat it for breakfast. But, I am mom and my grandma is long gone. It was like a taste from the cake covered in layers and layers of foil. Crispy chocolate cake, not fresh out of the oven and layers of buttercream frosting. Like a hug from Grandma Monica, I gobbled it up and it was gone. Love tastes delicious. Stale cheese doodles, freezer burned hotdogs and week old cake is love delicious. I could never have described it until I saw it in my "fridgidaire". Missing home makes you eat a strange breakfast of chocolate cake and coffee. NO! I would have eaten it anyway. I don't know who's cake it was. I am in trouble for taking it...again! :+

My Emma is a prod

I do love our dog. She is really Elyse's dog, but she loves us and is such a part of the family. Her name is Emma. She is just the right kind of dog for our big bustling family. She watches and seems to study the family dynamic and herds everybody to do what they are supposed to do.
Sunday morning, I felt a little slow and laid down on the couch and she gave me such a nudge and looked lovingly in my eyes."You know you can't lay down when we have to go to church" I know Emma, I am tired. She nudges the boys to get their shoes. She finds the most sensitive part of the body and sticks her nose firmly on it and you have to move. It is not a nip, and at the moment it seems insolent, until you realize that she is right, you should be moving in line with the flock.
Go to Church, go to school, do as you are told. She is another pair of eyes and a nose to prod us the right way.
It is interesting how much she knows about me. The little things that she can see and shows that she is now a part of the family. When I sit on the couch to hold my baby boy, who is no longer a baby, she thinks it is her time to snuggle. No Emma. and she rarely gets offended when I reject her, she is not my child. She accepts her place and comes, when asked and accepts her limits, most of the time.
She has alot of hands to hug her and pet her and she knows who loves her, most of the time. She is always looking for more attention. When she feels out of sorts, she sprawls her body out on the floor in an obvious place and sighs, nobody loves me. Somebody, usually comes to her rescue and gives her a little attention. All of it is never enough. She is always competing with me for my husband's attention in the car. This is our time, isn't it daddy? She looks at me as though I am in the way. What a personality she has. I love the way she shows the primitive expressions of love.

Over the weekend we discovered the Nicholas Brothers. What a picture of Brotherly love! Enjoy!

The magic and beauty of the dance!

Cat in the Hat week is over

Today is the last day. I hate to see it go. Geisel is the only author in history that really "understands me". I memorized almost his every book, during the 20+ years of reading him to my little ones. By the 1000th read you start to see things in Cat and love the little fishy and kiss Sally and her brother when they try to decieve mother about their exciting day. For the love of Dr. Seuss. I am glad that I needn't read it to them now. They have wonderful teachers like Ms. Beasley who can add variety to their lives.
101years old the Doctor would be and he carried us through childhood with fun and funniness. He was the cat to us and he comes into our lives and I am glad that our schools celebrate him. He is to be celebrated. Here are some pictures of Ez's Cat in the Hat week.

"There, at times will be...A Wall..."

Donnie has a new song and a new attitude. I am glad he does, because, this years' faith eclipse, seems deep and dark. Perhaps not as dark as at other years, but, an eclipse is an eclipse. Donnie says, "I am not a fair weather Christian". He's gone through some stuff and tells it like it is.
Somebody has to invent a faith light, so that when these sad days come, I can see the love of God more clearly. My husband and children are faithlights and showers of blessings in so many ways; but a faith eclipse locks you into a pattern of thinking, that is so blinding. Maybe, its really not an eclipse, but the light of God's love in the light of a piercing providence is more blinding. I'd rather look at it that way.

Praise to the Lord, who o'er all things so
wondrously reigneth...How oft, in grief, hast not He brought thee
relief,Spreading His wings to o'er shade
Thee

I do love that Hymn and I relish in the fact that I have felt the wings of
God's love in the hands of so many, in my grievous days. I am grateful for the many, many people who have helped to pick me up on these faith eclipses that I have known. I am grateful that God doesn't give up on me, though flesh and heart may fail. I am grateful that, no matter the condition of my faith, He is still God. He seemed to have let me go through that and I did feel alone. I know He was there, all 21 days, I just keep saying, where were You?

Let the Amen, sound from His people again,
If with His love He befriends thee.

Nobody wants to hear the story again, but it rolls around in my mind and I trust that in Heaven God will say, I heard you tell it, everytime.

It is March 3rd

The day before Baby Ben's 21st birthday. The birthday of grief and yet God has really been good to restore me so much. As I read my daily devotional I got to Proverbs 3 which was my mother-in law's favorite verse.

Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all of your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths

She shared alot with me, in our common season of grief, in our short sojourn together. Her heart was for her family and her husband and children revelled in the treasure that they posessed. I usually do my remembrances and try not to get too morbid in this season, but it is very hard not to go there. Every year, I try to learn something about jumping out of the pit of grief, but each child's birthday is their own. This one is his, my first-born son. The treasure and Christmas present better than all. He is with God now and I am blessed with my treasures on earth.
Pray for me!

Mmmmm, Good!

I was sick yesterday. It may be a coffee headache and congestion. I am better today, thanks to God and my sister's licorice tea and a cup of Campbell's soup. I was laid in my bed from 3 pm and my precious husband brought me a cup, a huge cup of Campbells chicken noodle soup. It had healing in it and it tasted delicious.
I remember Campbell's when I was little having 5 or 6 noodles per bowl. This bowl had hundreds and hundreds of noodles that I gobbled up like a little girl. They never tasted so delicious.
Between the loving care and the deep sleep, I am better today and I am not going off of coffee, anytime soon. I have to work, I have to drink coffee. That is that!
I was going to try to detox from now to 50. No way! I will try to lose weight, but the coffee toxins, I refuse to give up, just yet.
There is nothing like the love of a bunch, like mine and Campbell's chicken noodle soup with crackers, from my doting husband. I am the most blessed.

Increasingly, the family is becoming Male Dominated!

(If you remember, I got married when the boys in our family were still children, I am not used to living with this many young men)


We believe in male authority and function as a paternally led household, for the most part, but it is easy to fudge that, when they are outnumbered. Now that the women are doing their own things, Evvy and I are finding ourselves outnumbered in the democratic processes. The Walker men are strong minded and authoritarian and to live with 4 of them, is a challenge for anybody. There are evolutionary processes that have bred in the Walker female a strong character that is very able to defend themselves against the Walker male strengths. LOL
Boddens, however, have not yet evolved into that provocative exterior facade, or if we had, it was beaten off of us at an early age, and so we have no defenses against the Walker masculinism. We have alot of humor about the Bodden-Walker defense mechanisms. I was trying to think about what we do, instead of what the Walker parallels are. I said, I have never seen poor people shop like you Walkers like to. Evvy said, Shopping is to Walkers as drinking is to Boddens. I said you are probably right. Though, we all do not drink alcohol, we do drink in one another as though it were alcohol. I try them sometimes to see what are their sensitive points, no matter what I say, they never shut up. They always come right back at me.
I have decided that the boys have more Bodden, or recognize it better and decifer it for the rest of the family. Why is mommy different from us? They always blame it on the Bodden. Sounds like a Michael Jackson song. Blame it on the Boogy. They blame it on the Bodden part of me. I am only a Walker by marriage. I used to think the difference was southernness. But, now we are in the south and it is still very evident that they are in a class by themselves. I love the lot of them. I consider myself the tender of the traditions of the Walker clan. They don't look at them and they are an American treasure and it is my job to help to fan the flames of progress in my investments in Walkerism. Charles and Rosie and the traditions that they have passed on are the largest portion of my life now, my vocation, as it were. I have studied them and enjoyed them and it is scary to see how strong their influence is in the lives of my children.
In church, the mothers would always say, "You who know the word of prayer, pray my strength in the Lord." This mission is clearly above me and that is the only thing that I can say is, Pray my strenth in the Lord!