She seemed a bit bothered when I picked her up, but it wasn’t until we had been to the bank, the grocery store, and were almost back home that I thought to ask her if she had a great day back. She started crying. “A. went to another school. She was my BEST FRIEND, Mom.”

I was immediately very sad. I pictured the sweet little blond girl whom I had grown accustomed to hearing about almost daily, and who was always sitting in the pick-up line with Ava. Sometimes I’d see them holding hands, and usually heard a sweet, southern-tinged, “Bye AYYY-VA” as she climbed into the van. The sat in a little pod of four together, and she ran up to hug me when I was in the classroom the day I had helped with the Christmas snack. Ava said she didn’t think she had a mom – she never mentioned one, just a dad.

When we got home, she ran inside. I came in to find her just sitting on the couch. I went over to her, silently deciding that the groceries could wait in the van while I saw to my daughter’s heart. I took her on my lap, and she sobbed, pieces of her broken heart pouring into my hands. I felt the responsibility keenly, knowing that hearts are crazy things, and that lies can creep out of the cracks of a non-mended heart. I realized it might be the first time she’s really known loss. I want to make sure she doesn’t come away from this with beliefs about herself that aren’t true. “Who will be my best friend now?” and “The others might not want to play with me.” and “Why did she leave me?” and other such statements poured out of her.

I couldn’t help it. I cried, too.

She noticed, and I told her that in the Bible, Jesus had even cried with some of his friends when they were missing someone they loved. She choked out, “I wish I could be in the Bible.” I was so grateful to be able to tell her that Jesus was not confined to the Bible, but that he could share her sorrow right here in our living room, just like he did with the people in the story from the Bible. Eventually, she stopped crying, but the sadness in her eyes pierced my heart. She asked me if we could go to her, and I told her that we’d check with her teacher to see if they had moved away, or just changed schools. Regardless, I was sure I could tell her that A. did not leave her because of anything she had or hadn’t done – that kids just have to do what their parents decided when they’re in Kindergarten.

At dinner that night, she told her daddy that her friend was “absent forever.”

I wasn’t prepared for how much her heartbreak touched my soul. Does God feel this way about me?

I’ve underestimated Him.

Fortunately, the pants were from the Economy Shop, although this is only the second time he’s worn them.

Anyway, this is the end result of my kids’ stuff. They were so excited with the display of their Thanksgiving thumbprint turkeys that I’ve pretty much decided a small amount of tackyness may be worth it. After all, we are a family of little kids. We might as well feel like we all belong and contribute here.

Their very existence lets you know that there is at least some degree of rightness in the world.

There’s a sense of safety in knowing that they’re out there, somewhere, in your community on any given day.

As tears stung my eyes at the first sight of his funeral program, I realized today that Mr. Tim Currie was such a man for me.

A kind, kind man. He sent me two wedding gifts – not because he forgot about the first one, but because he was so happy with the thank-you I sent. He told me that I was too practical – he wanted to buy something on my registry that was indulgent, but he couldn’t find anything.

When we were little girls, we learned to recognize his voice on the phone – he’d call to get my dad to come to his cotton gin and fix something.

He’s done other things for me — incredible generosity that I won’t give specifics about. He was just someone you knew you could depend on.

Who will call my dad Herr Schrockmeier now?

So, even though I didn’t really know him as a personal friend, the loss feels tremendous. Maybe it’s because my dad is so sad. Maybe it’s because he was only five years old than my dad. Maybe it’s just the way you feel when you know that the world has lost a really good man.

For many years, this was a complete non-holiday for me, mostly because of ignorance.  Then, as a teacher, it began to really be on my radar as something more important to commemorate. As a parent, I see my daughter experiencing it mostly as a day off school.

When I worked at BMMS, we always had an assembly. It was one of my favorites of the year. The band learned the songs of each branch of the army, and parents and grandparents of students would attend the assembly in uniform and proudly stand up when they heard the anthem of their branch of service. It never failed to bring a tear to my eye when I saw old men, some unable to stand, proudly lift their shoulders and salute when their song played. Lisa Dickson and her crew would sell red poppies, which we wore pinned to our clothing. I didn’t know about the poem, “In Flanders Fields” before that time, but it’s such an poignant reminder that this day holds deep emotion for so many people. The poem was written after its author witnessed the death of his friend on the battlefield. The flowers – they grew profusely on battlefields and graveyards where the earth had been disturbed. I can’t imagine the horror of being in the fight, coupled with the profound sense of loss when it was all over. My perspective on this holiday is too shallow.

This summer, my family & I stood beside the road for a long time, waiting to pay tribute to a 19-year-old young man who didn’t plan to return from Afghanistan in a flag-draped casket. Reports that there may be some picketers brought an army of Freedom Riders, the rumble of their bikes intended to silence any disrespect. My father, son and I ate lunch at that day in a restaurant immediately beside the church where the funeral was to be held. It was packed with Freedom Riders, and a table-full of Marines in dress uniform. Luke made them smile, when he observed, in a little-boy, stage-whispering fashion, “They all match.” What a sad reason to match. Dressed up to give a proper send-off to a 19-year-old young man.

Photo: http://www.northescambia.com/?p=65692

That was this summer. I saw his mother taking a walk near her house the other day. Life had to go on for her. Surely the least I can do is remember her son and the sacrifice that so deeply touched her family.

There are many others among my friends who have served and are serving. They have left mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, children, friends — a sacrifice in and of itself. And even though it’s hard to see exactly how my tiny corner of the world has been affected, it’s obvious to me that the freedom that we have in an over-arching sense is no accident.

We’re even free to NOT celebrate or recognize veterans at all.

But today, I am.

Thank you, fine men and women, past and present, of the United States Armed Forces.

A few nights ago at the dinner table, Luke followed up on a topic he’s been really obsessed with lately. I’ve been answering questions for a while as to when Jesus will call him to Heaven. I tell him that I don’t know, but not until it’s just the right time. He’s typically fine with that answer and it ends that conversation for a while. But the other night, he was very specific. It went something like this: “Jesus will take me, but you guys will all stay here. But it’s okay – Jesus will stay with me.” He said it twice to make sure we understood, and then, very matter-of-factly, he said, “Mom, are there going to be playgrounds there?” I assured him there were and he had a big smile on his face.

Now, it is easy to say that he’s just beginning to think, that all kids do that. I know that would be correct. But, imagine if it were your kid. What if your kid had very sweetly assured you that he would be okay when he left you because Jesus would be with him? Later that night, when all the house was asleep, I couldn’t help but cry a little about it. (I’m crying now.) It was then that it hit me — Do I really trust that Jesus has the absolute best interest in mind for me, my family, the world? Would I trust Him with my son if that were the course my life would take? I was quick to remind God that if he took my son to Heaven that I desperately wanted to go with him. But I know that life doesn’t always work out like that. Sometimes horrible tragedies do happen.

I’ve been reminded by friends who know firsthand what it’s like to lose a child that God does not deal in the currency of fear. So, I ask myself — What is the key that takes away fear in light of the erratic behavior of the unknown? And I have to come back to trust. IF I truly believe that God is good, that He loves me, and desires to finish the good work He began in me, then there can be a sense of confidence in looking toward the future. It’s as if trust and fear are engaged in a gigantic arm-wrestling match – the one that’s controlling me is the one that’s stronger at the moment.

It’s amazing that just reminding myself of the nature and tender care of God allowed me to slip into dreamless sleep that night. It’s probably just a fluke. But you will find me taking lots of time for snuggles with one messy-haired boy child.

“I am sure that nothing can separate us from God’s love–not life or death, not angels or spirits, not the present or the future. . .”
Romans 8:38

Went to pour my drink, and happened to notice something amiss with my glass.

I wonder how long I have been chilling this baby. Might have been a while.

I do wonder which one of my children had the ingenuity to slip this into the ice bin in the freezer door. Luckily, it came through without incident. Reminds me of the time Luke swallowed a flat marble. But, I digress. . .

In other news, I had my children create turkeys for my mantle. They were so excited. I thought they were cute. (And, yes — I know — the eucalyptus needs to go since Joyce Weber let me snatch that awesome grain sorghum from her field)

This is Ava’s

And this is Luke’s

I especially loved them after they did the gold paint randomly over all the “feathers”. And, of course, Luke had help. I do not allow that child to have paint on his fingers without some pretty hefty guidance. Thanks to Joyce (again) for getting the eyes for me — Luke was quite concerned that they couldn’t see.

The following are a collection of CRAIGSLIST postings that I have personally found while looking for items in the AL/NW FL part of the country. I am NOT making fun of people who can’t spell — I just find that some grammatical/spelling errors create great opportunities for at least a teeny smile. 

The slightly odd . . .

Extra Wide Potty Chair NEVER USED! – $150

Extra wide bedside potty chair…. never been used! Got after having surgery and wasnt needed. Asking $150 OBO

and to go with the extra wide potty chair, we have . . .

Big industrial wipes Lot of 6 – $30

I have a lot of 6 “Big wipes industrial” wipes. There brand new and never opened

Eggs From Happy Chickens – $3

Eggs from happy free range chickens $3.00 dozen

*~* Walker*~* Low Miles – $15

Sunmark aluminum walker, model 632KD, adjustable and collapsible, like new condition as evident in the below picture. Call  or email if interested. Thank you (It’s hard to imagine one putting high miles on a walker.)

free 2 rednose pit mixed with dashound 1 girl 1 boy

Wonder what that looks like?

mismatched socks

a bunch!!! email me if u want…in trade i’ll take something small like a package of notebook paper…

Bolens Limb Chipper – $1

Nothing really wrong here – just sounds kind of funny. Might necessitate a visit to my sister for some artificial limbs.

WANTED:

Broom

I really need a new broom and I can’t afford to buy one, anyone have an extra one in good shape please call me…..Thanks (Okay – it would be easier for someone to throw a $5 in the mail to her. . .)

Tropical/Jungle Party Decorations (Adult)

Wanted- Tropical and jungle party decorations (adult) for area ministry event. Will pay reasonable price.  (something odd about the “adult” and the “ministry event” in the same sentence.)

IN NEED OF A WORKING FRIDGE

MY STAINLESS FENCH DOOR FRIDGE JUST WENT OUT IF ANY ONE HAS A FRIDGE THAT IS TAKEING UP SPACE GETS COLD AND IS INEXPENSIVE PLEASE EMAIL ME BACK (Um, I think the part about the stainless french door stuff probably won’t help with the charity request. . .  Oh, and that’s “French”, not “Fench” )

 little boy’s undies – $1

We’re about ready to be potty trained so my little grandson need size 2 training pants and underwear. Must be in good shape and stain free. Willing to pay reasonable prices. If you have size 4′s we’ll take those also; he can grow into them.
Thanks in advance. (Dear Grandmother – they sell these for a reasonable price at Walmart. )

14k gold fingernails

need more gold nails! buy or will trade!!!

steel toe tennis shoes – $1

Want to buy a pair of steel toe tennis shoe style shoes…9.5 or 10 med width.I will pay cash…send a pic of what you have an a price…. (Seems like it would be a bit bulky for tennis . . .)

well worn heels – $1

Wanting well worn heels(old and smelly). Ladies…just don’t throw them out.

Fresh Elephant Excrement  – $999

Elephant Excrement for $9.99 per load bring your triple axle dump trucks and wagons. Great for my wallet call . Will load for small fee

The misspelled . . .

EXAM TABLE WITH FOOT STURRIPS – $250

(Can they go ahead and misspell stirrups to make it all the more humiliating for the poor table? If you are a man and don’t understand this, please move on to the next item. )

3 in 1 Exercauser – $50

Evenflo 3 in 1 exercauser, like brand new. Used for one child from baby to toddler. This exercauser changes from a play mat to a sit and play exercauser and then to a stand and play walk around S shape type toy.

I guess if you broke it down to “cause” vs. “sauce”, the author would have known the difference.  Although, if there were a way to exercise for a good cause, it would likely be a hit!

Free Palm Frawns

Pile of palm frawns free. Come pick them up….  (Alas – I could not discover what a frawn is, but they’re free! However, I think I’ll just stick with the ones from the store, complete with palm fronds.)

Registered Guilding Paint Pony – $500

Very gentle and quiet $500 obo (umm. . . gelding? I’m guessing? Or else it’s a poor animal covered in gold.)

MINATURE HORSE GUILDING

Verry gentle minature black guiolding horse (didn’t look quite right in the title, so I’ll try again. Oh, and I’ll throw in an extra “r” so that they know I really mean it when I say he’s gentle. Wait – should I call a gelding a “he”? Actually, the definition of “guilding” that goes like this –  3. Any superficial coating or appearance, as opposed to what is solid and genuine. – might actually apply to the technicalities of a horse with his, er, surgical procedure completed. )

hand made black sandle  – $450

paid over 750 for the sandle almost brand new im askin 450 – Seems like a lot to pay for one lone shoe.

The completely wrong word . . .

Rocking Chair and Automan 

Rocking chair and ottoman. Works perfectly. We moved and now have no space for it (and our baby is growing up!).
Right arm is loose, some glue and should be good as new. (At least they got it right in the ad. Would hate to put my feet up on that automan.)

And my favorites. . .

Horse Maneuver – $50

Got some fresh, out of the stalls, horse maneuver. Great for gardens and plants! I’ve got a whole truck bed full.
$50! CASH ONLY!

2 WENCHES/ LARGE

I HAVE 2 LARGE WENCHES PTO TYPE , LIKES USED ON A WRECKER . MAKE ME A RESONABLE
OFFER.  (This sounds slightly different than your average bar wench).

wench tractor hook up – $400

- (In case you do get those two large ones.)

I’m a big one for trying to find reasons for things that happen to me. If not a reason, than an excuse for why it wasn’t my fault. I am a rule-follower, and if something doesn’t turn out right, it must be a breakdown somewhere. Since Luke is my son, you’d understand why I expected some tears. At least something along the line of, “Mean old sidewalk.”

Instead, I got a very calm, “I should have brought my knee pads.”

It took me all of about 2 seconds to realize that my child had just uttered something very profound. Stuff is just going to happen in this world. The Bible even promises that – “In this world you will have trouble.” I love this dire warning is followed with, ” . . .but take heart – I have overcome the world.” Jesus. Knee Pads. Protection IN and THROUGH the inevitable spills that will leave me sprawled out on life’s parking lots.

So – the next time something happens to me that I feel like I did nothing to deserve, I hope I remember: I should have brought my knee pads. And I’ll hopefully remember that the little green sucker – and the real Treasure of my heart – can withstand the fall.

Came back in and smelled something. Electrical. Started sniffing around the house, and determined that the source of the “fire” was in the kitchen. I don’t see anything amiss. Luke is standing on a chair by the stove (I’m ready to make mac & cheese for lunch). I say, “Luke, do you know where that smell comes from?”

He points to the microwave.

I open the door and immediately holler, “Are you kidding?” I looked at Luke again and said loudly, “Are you kidding me?” By the end of the statement, he was mouthing the words with me.

“I’m sorry. I said I’m sorry.” He has a worried look on his face. I can tell he’s feeling quite guilty.

I would have taken a picture for my blog, but I can’t. In fact, there will be no more pictures until I get to a store.

They say the truth is stranger than fiction. I would never in a million years have thought up this story.

He also nuked the charger, with a canon battery in it. He also nuked his daddy’s Bulova watch. He threw in a metal jar lid for effect. Likely the 30 seconds that the auto-start does, and it looked like he may have stopped it part way.

“Luke, did you see it? What did it do?”

“It fired.”

The child has been told not to put things in the microwave. He has been told not to start the microwave. He has been spanked for disobedience in the microwave department. I reminded him of all these things, to which he replied, “I said ‘I’m sorry.’”

The Lithium battery in the charger did not take well to the microwaves that were bombarding it. It is one nasty, burned mess at the metal connection points, and the whole plastic case on the charger is melted enough to be misshapen. The lithium battery currently in the camera was melted to the camera enough so that my attempt to remove it resulted in pulling out some long spring thing. His daddy’s watch — had a dead battery in it, so I’m not sure. Given the fact that the other batteries didn’t fare well, I have little hope.

You are three, little man. Your piggy bank cannot pay for the $600-ish worth of damages you did in 30 seconds. Especially since your piggy bank is already being drafted to cover all of your wasted food (it clearly does NOT take four packs of hot chocolate to make one small boy a drink). Oh, and you’re paying for wasted tape (clearly none of the little boxes you tape up and call ‘e-bay’ are going to make it to the mail.) Furthermore, your kindness in sharing the last piece of fried chicken and Kashi cereal with the dog are also costing you.

I don’t think you have the means to keep living like this.

If it’s true that what goes around comes around, thenI  give fair warning to whomever Luke marries. He’s sure to have one humdinger of a kid.

On the positive side, I do find myself wondering if he will have a mind like my Dad has. Luke’s not content to be told how something works, what it does, what you can do with it — maybe he’ll try things, and then he’ll have one of those minds that just “knows.” Sounds like a future “Schrock-er” to me.

Now taking advice as to which camera I should buy . . .

On Tuesday afternoon, she had a massive heart attack.

On Wednesday evening, she died.

Heaven is happy, but we are not.

I could have been one of her last 20 or 30 conversations. I am sobered. I am heartbroken for her family, particularly her granddaughter, Ava’s new little friend, Mary Joyner. I am reminded that I should be a better steward of my words, always leaving people uplifted for having spoken to me. Because you never know.

They may be parting words.

Theirs?

Yours?

You just never know.