There is nothing in this world that can compare to a mother’s love for her children and to those she loves like her own children. Today I was browsing through blogs I subscribe to and came across this post by Ann Voskamp over at A Holy Experience. As I read it I remembered my grandmother. We all called her Granny. She’s my mother’s mom. We were blessed that she lived close by and was one of my best friends growing up. She went home to heaven when I was just 18 and it’s disconcerting that many memories of her seem to be slipping away but this one is clear to me. My mother was sick with pneumonia or some respiratory illness and 4 children to take care of. She tried her best but the illness confined her to bed…One phone call was all it took and Granny, who didn’t have a car or even a driver’s license made it over the Cooper River to our house. There she stayed on the couch caring for Mama until she was well and making sure the four kids were bathed, fed, and got off to school. Thank God for our wonderful Mamas!
Monday, January 23, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
As I do everyday when I pull my car into the driveway, I closed my eyes for a minute and whispered “God please give me patience and strength for whatever I find inside”. When I left in the morning there was a load of laundry in the dryer, a load in the washer , a few pots and pans on the stove, and dishes in the sink waiting to be rinsed and placed in the dishwasher. Up the back stairs to the kitchen door I go with my laptop bag dragging behind me and there through the window I see my husband, Mike, washing pots. I quickly turn the knob and go inside. I doff my coat and put my bags away and come back to the kitchen and grab my apron. Now he’s finished the pots…they are stacked in the drainer and he’s now cleaning the stovetop. At that moment I want to cry and throw my arms around his neck…call my sister-in-law and have her come get Samuel because I need some alone time with my husband, but hey it’s a school night and there is dinner to get….maybe later. It's not that Mike never helps around the house...he just hasn't lately because he has a job where he is on his feet for pretty much 8 hours and on top of that he has problems with his feet and the last thing he wants to do when he comes home is more standing. Anyway, once the ceramic stovetop is polished he says…”It’s all yours” and gives me a quick kiss and heads for his recliner. I feel loved! But it was just a few dishes, right?