The First Ink

Today marked the fifth anniversary of our son's birthday.  It is sadly, also the anniversary of the day we discovered he had silently slipped into heaven.  Our grief is not nearly as heavy as it was that first year without him, as we are now able to identify passage of time, cook and eat our own meals without it seeming as challenging as climbing Mt. Everest during an avalanche, and there are, not complete days, but certainly hours that pass without thinking of that bittersweet day five years ago.

Today we (Michael and the kids, I, at the last minute decided it would be too much for me) visited his grave, the place where his tiny body lay inside his tiny coffin, inside the earth. I will visit soon, bringing fresh paint to color the crayons (His name is inside a crayon where the word Crayola usually is.) and the necessary tools to properly edge and clean his grave.  His stone also appropriately reads, "Having Fun With Jesus".

We also, as per request of Lucy, sorted through a box of mementos. We affectionally call it, "Isaac's Box".

Without fail, it always rushes back.  The lid comes off the box and we sort through locks of his soft brown hair.  Our faces snuggle into the blanket we wrapped him in durning those precious moments in which we could cuddle his tiny body before we left the hospital.  The bonnet placed on his head after his birth is set aside to allow the soaked tears to evaporate before carefully replacing it in the box.  We read the piles of cards so many dear to us sent, while wishing with all their might that they could've done more.  And we contemplate whether or not we should've written something in his empty journal with the price tag from Borders never removed.

Lucy seemed especially drawn to that journal.  She held it close and studied us, for a long time.  She admitted later she had never seen us cry like that and was waiting for the right moment to ask a question. "Mom, Dad, May I write something for Isaac in this book?" We nodded and she scurried off in search of a pen.

Extremely curious as to what she had written, I peeked over her shoulder and was moved by her happy message to her little brother:

"Today is your fifth Birth-day.  We got into your box.  My favirite thing that I found was the picture that mom drew for your gravestone and two of your ducks.  Today your little brother Noah said to dad I love" you daddy.  It was so cute.  I hope you have nice Birthdays in heaven."

It's good to remember our loved ones and our times together, even if our times together were only the times they kicked our ice cream bowl off our abdomens.  But, a little "fresh ink" moment can help draw us gently back into "the now" with a joy no sadness can conquer.  A refreshing perspective from my gem of a daughter has me basking in the present with two beautiful healthy children, and looking forward to the future when I will be surrounding myself with three.

And now, I might just grab that pen and share a thought or two in that formerly empty journal.

Goodnight, Everyone.

PS.  Lucy also asked me if Isaac's room in heaven had a closet made out of cheese balls.  I answered her with the most frequent response to her inquiries, "Honey, I really don't know, but that's a great question."

Baby got Bach...

I also considered, "My man's a playa' " as a title.  And, of course I was tempted to incorporate "Air on the G string"... but in the end, even I'm not that uncouth. 

Yes, these photos are of my amazingly talented husband,

and his firstborn baby, who just turned 112 years old.  And just for fun, here is a list of things you probably don't know about him.

1.  He drinks in classical music the way I savor devil's food cake after a thirty day sugar fast.

2.  He had a cat named Beethoven.

3.  He's played in London, Hong Kong, Buenos Aires, Costa Rica, Mexico, India,...the list goes on.

4.  He shines that fiddle with nut oils.

5.  He hates it when I call it a fiddle.

6. His two-year-old son can correctly identify portraits of Beethoven, Mozart, Schubert, & Bach.

7.  His wife cannot touch the instrument (nut allergy - She did once without thinking... puffed up like a marshmallow in the microwave).

8.  He is disgusted (but secretly loves her simplicity) when after a moving performance of "Schindlers List", his wife requests "Turkey in the Straw".

9.  His social security and bank account numbers are... Wait, I hear something... Oh, it's just Bette Erjudgement again.  (I wish she'd stop calling after nine, It's rude.)

10.  The author of The Exraordinary Ordinary Me is eagerly awaiting his arrival this evening.

11.  He is playing at the SYNERGY meeting Tues. Sept. 28, 2010

12.  He has a rockin' blog (which is where you'll have to find your spiritual lesson today.)

and lucky number thirteen...

HE'S MY FAVORITE PERSON EVER.

“

Had to write about what was on my mind, I guess.

The difference between a violin and a viola is that a viola burns longer."

                                     - Victor Borge

Have a wonderful day!

Mrs.  Totallygiftedmusician

P.S.  He's been practicing something called, "Overture zur Oper ,,Die Zauberflote"... I know, right?

Don't get Mad... the continuation...

Perusing some of the archives of this place (I stole that from FRESH MOMMY's blog), I happened upon a promise to finish a story... I am making good on that today...

Dont Get Mad...the continuation...      Click HERE for Part 1

     Seven years ago, a young couple phoned the airlines to confirm that the flight that was to return them to their homeland was indeed leaving at Eleven o' clock.  Upon verification of departure status, they (infant in tow) had one H -E - half circle - K, of a taxi ride, but, by the grace of God, arrived safely at the airport.

      9:59pm - To my husband,  "Michael, this is our gate... why does the sign say "PARIS"?

     To the man at the desk, - "Sir, We are here for an 11:00 flight to Miami..."

     His reply - "Let's see... hmm...It looks like that flight was changed... yes, it left at 11:00 this morning."

     To God, Satan, the angels, and the frightened man behind the desk, "WHAT!!!!???"

And, before I could sputter another word, my husband said something very, very wise.  He told me, "Stop." I obeyed, curious as to why he wasn't a bit more flustered by the situation.  Then, very calmly, he said, "I think we just need to allow God to do something ... Let's pray."  (That guy sure is a good influence on me.) We had no money for food, or a hotel... and the next flight to the United States didn't leave until the next morning...  We were five hours away from anyone we knew.  But, we had a faith in an all powerful God, who, we asked to take care of us in this difficult moment.

The airport had a couple of metal benches. We asked the lady at the information counter if we could camp out on them for the night... She hesitated, then looked at our precious baby, and replied... "Yes."  (Michael noticed she was reading a bible as we approached.  Fascinating.)

Two adults, one hungry infant, 240 lbs. of luggage, and a couple of 4 and a half foot benches... We made ourselves as comfy as possible.

Not long after, the same woman asked to speak with us... We thought we were getting kicked out for the night.  Instead.... "I spoke to my parents, they have a luxury apartment nearby that they aren't using right now, if you feel comfortable staying there, they will take you there, and bring you back in the morning."

Now, we don't usually encourage leaving with strangers in a foreign country, but we felt peace about this incidence...

We were picked up by a lovely couple (WHO SPOKE ENGLISH), and taken to a magnificent apartment (Which also happened to have A CRIB) We were given food... we chillaxed a bit while we watched cable,  hot baths....etc..and in the morning, they brought breakfast and a wrapped gift.

Completely refreshed, we boarded the plane, and guess what!? There's like an hour more to the story.
I guess you will have to come back again for part 3.  Do you want to hear the rest?

Tune in tomorrow:  Same bat-time, Same bat-channel...


"BAM!", "SOCK!", "POW!"

Christina

PS.  (What would my posts be without a "P. S."? ... Shorter, I guess.)

Here's a song, with...., forgive me Dan Moen, painfully outdated music. The words are appropriate though.  Do try and make it through it for me, will you.  Click on the photo.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zo3fJYtS-o&feature=related

Digestive Reader

"You're a bad Christian, Sancho, because you never forget any insult you ever receive.  But men of noble and generous heart do not pay attention to trivialities." - Don Quijote

   Good morning, friends.  Pot 'o coffee brewed,  crickets humming, and I've been ministered to by a delusional fictional character.  All in all, it's been a pretty terrific morning.

     I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, these scarce little moments.  You moms know what I'm talking about.  The tots are enjoying themselves at Grandma's house, and you are completely alone.  We become like kids and silence is our candy store.  Honestly, I wasn't sure where to begin this morning.  I greeted God (who, by-the-way, returned my salutation), meditated briefly on some of His generous promises, and then gleefully skipped past the dirty dishes, unclipped coupons, and toys on the floor, straight to the shelves laden with unread bounty.  It had been so long since I had indulged myself.  Who would I tackle first?  Grisham, Leman, Crichton?  I closed my eyes and spun around, determined to read whichever book my outstretched finger touched.... Dr. Seuss.... Seriously? How did that get in there?  Redo.

      This time I struck gold.  Miguel de Cervantes.  I forgot how funny that guy was.  Michael and I used to read through his "Don Quijote" together.  We would end up laughing at anything that was written in it, like a couple of happy drunks.  (We weren't drunk... just happy.)  We should do that again.  I'll bring the book on our TBD vacation.

What inspirational thing will you read today? ("Christina, I'm reading your blog, he he he.", doesn't count.)

Thanks for stopping by, you faithful, faithful,  Bloggeroonies,

I prayed for you today,


Christina

P.S.   It's awfully quiet around here.  I sure do miss the kids.

Silent Saturday II

My Best Friend for 12 years and counting...

Thank you all for the constant encouragement.  Welcome to the new (and the not-so-new, I mean some of you have been with me for TWO whole months now, lol.) followers.  I'm looking forward to the laughs together.  See you tomorrow.

Me