Larksong: family

Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Our old piano bench sits waiting for the Christmas tree to takes its place. It soon will be off to the upholsterer for a new plump cushion in an updated color.
On this dreary Halloween, though, I linger a while at it, running my hand over the worn spots where we sat for hours. Sometimes, just Rob, practicing Chopin or enjoying contemporary favorites, other times with a child in his lap and another by his side, banging out Beauty and the Beast along with some great impersonations of Gaston!
This morning I had the strangest longing to slip in next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and listen to him play “O (Fly On).” Rob would have channeled his best Chris Martin and I would have tried to join in harmony.
Rob did not make it long enough to hear Coldplay’s haunted “Ghost Stories,” but I know he would have immediately sat down to play this song after hearing it for the very first time...by ear, of course...
And I would have fallen in love with him all over again!
Yes, Rob, maybe one day I’ll fly next to you.

Fly on.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Credit: Steve Schroeder

I'm surrounded by growing paper piles this rainy Monday afternoon. New policies need to be compared, supplemental ones considered...my concentration wanes. All I can think about is life before cancer, the sweet, easy time when we compared restaurant options and travel destinations...together!
I took care of my duties and Rob tackled his. Now that I'm responsible for both, I'm deeply grateful for all that he shouldered, especially the business decisions. Rob was a selfless provider who made life better for his family. I added to our income, but without Rob we would have starved. Because he fought the Katy Freeway traffic and accumulated frequent flyer miles most every day of his adult life, I was able to enjoy my children's lives without the added exhaustion of another full-time job. It's only now that I realize the length of his list. It was very long and he completed it without a word of complaint. (I can't say the same for myself.) I'm forever thankful for his devotion to his family's needs. Not one child left college with a debt burden, when the economy declined, he worked wherever there was opportunity, and he made sure we would live comfortably if "in the event." Rob laid down his life for us. On this rainy day, I'm reminded that his kind of love is rare; I shall not forget.
Rob, I'm so proud of you! I love that you are resting from the hard things of life. Thank you for caring so much about us.

Steve's original photo is stunning. My attempt to scan it does not do it justice. Thank you, friend, for this beautiful treasure.

Monday, May 9, 2016

Funny, how my perspective on Mother's Day has changed with passing years. I must be honest; it used to be about me! I cherished the crafted love of little hands, a day off from kitchen duty (oh, those glorious trips to the Blackeyed Pea and Wyatt's cafeteria,) and even the orchid corsage from Randall's floral cooler.
But life has changed...no more hand prints to liven up refrigerator doors, no more reminding little boys that one dessert from the cafeteria line will do...no more husband!
Instead of dining out, I cooked a BBQ feast for two, spicy St. Louis style pulled pork with all of the fixings to share with my oldest son. I held vigil over the roast throughout the wee hours of the morning; I wanted it just perfect!
Bobby arrives with flowers and dessert, just like his father. We lunch over small talk laced with a few pinches of advice. A chance to mother again; that's what I really wanted on this Sunday in May, an opportunity to make my son's day filled with love...love served on Grandmother Moore's "fish dishes"!

Two adults, who shared the darkest moment of our lives, sit at a table built for eight, but not large enough to hide the elephant in the room. Our best friend is missing; he's always missing.

Two hours later, I sit alone. I look to see if my elderly neighbor is by herself; no, her daughter's car is still parked in her driveway. I suppose daughters find more stories to retell.

I reach for a vintage baby doll perched in the corner, a present from my grandmother decades ago. I hold on to it much too long; cloth and stuffing make empty arms survive in some quirky way.
I hold on to love sent from far away...

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I just wanted to say "I love you and I'm sorry we are apart. I hope you have a fantastic day. Thank you for always thinking of me and always coming up with fun ideas for the kiddos to keep in touch with them. They appreciate it and we appreciate it and we all love you very much. Alex via WhatsApp

To my mom this Mother's Day:

Thank you. Thank you for showing me kindness and compassion for others in action. Thank you for teaching me acceptance for all people.

Thank you for making me finish that forever-long term paper on our typewriter. Thank you for the balloons on the mailbox when I made the dance team in high school. Thank you for introducing me to strong coffee and sharing many a Saturday shopping marathon.

Thank you for sending me into the world with confidence, and letting me cry on your shoulder the night I before moved to New York as you stroked my hair and said "You're gonna be great. You're supposed to do this."

As a mother myself now I truly get how hard it is to raise three young children. You sacrificed so much to make sure we were well take care of. You gave it your all in ways I'm not sure I know how to.

And now you are both Mom and Dad. Thank you for keeping Dad alive for all of us. He would have loved this picture.

Wish I could give you a big hug today. So much love, even if virtual.

Lindsay via FaceBook

Friday, May 9, 2014

Sometimes the hidden leads to unexpected treasure. A note to a daughter away at college reveals the true heart of a daddy and causes a wife to fall in love all over again. Joy words, they are and two women remember and hold on tight.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Frequent flyer miles about to expire... "Rob, you choose the destination this time." After exploring a few travel sites, he paused. "Let's just go back to the beach." Destin, a place with history, family history...family vacations in the sand that sparkles like sugar... Romantic getaways, just the two of us..

"Let's go back to the place where it all started." The blue Cape Cod with white picket fence...Memories of sun-kissed, blonde children splashing in the waves, Sea Blaster dolphin tours, a family of five squeezed in a maroon Geo Prism still fill my heart.

Looking back, Rob was tired. Work had been stressful and navigating new territory just seemed too much. A week of rest, lazy strolls, and hours stretched out under an umbrella staring out into the deep blue sea... That's what he needed to recharge.
We missed our adult children on Mother's Day, but they made their presence known with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Rob seemed amused at my endless set of photos to remember our surprise delivery.

We treasured every moment of that beautiful week. Perfect weather, near empty beaches, hours talking, strolling, remembering. Little did we know that this was our final farewell to our little corner of paradise, our calm before the storm, our last dance in the sand. But our God knew and He rolled out perfection!

I captured many photos that week, but my favorite will always be the only one of the two of us, shot by a sweet beach employee. Another amazing gift from a God who knew.

My beautiful best friend!

He looked healthy and happy that day.

We made footprints in the sand and on each other's heart those precious May days.

Each day is a gift to be treasured.

Embrace them well.

Photo credits...Robin Moore

Friday, March 14, 2014

Pi Day

Alex wearing his dad's Ottawa jacket

March 14th ranks high as one of my favorite days of the year and not because it's Pi Day!

Two of my favorite men were born on this day and both are "Einsteins" in my book!

my Poppy and my Alex

My life would have been empty without them.

Think I'll celebrate these two loves with a big piece of pie!

Alex's Great Grandpa "Hook" Hand
My Poppy

Alex in Chocolate Soup

Alex driving his dad's Alfa

Poppy is on the top bleacher-second in from the right
WWII Navy Baseball Team

Alex's High School Baseball Team

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Photo by Jim Idiaquez

Counting Joy this Sunday afternoon...

One of the most difficult parts of losing Rob is that my family doesn't live nearby and I miss them terribly. God knew it was going to be so hard for me to live solo so He handpicked the perfect family to adopt me. We are a family of six as Amy puts it and we love each other dearly. They make me want to get up on the weekends so I can see K's basketball games and hang out with the girls. My life is full of texts and hugs and smiles that soothe this new loneliness. Amy and Ashley remind me of a young Rob and Robin and I find myself whispering, "Yesss! They understand this God kind of love we shared for 40 plus years!" If only I can bless them as much as they bless me!

So today I count the joy of adoption. They are not my surrogate family; they are a beautiful addition to the Moore family and the hands and feet of

Jesus to me.

We said goodbye today with a tender group hug, a hug that will hold tight my broken heart.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Wound care is a messy, complicated thing. Wounds can be slow to heal and often need to be re-opened, aggravated in order to stimulate the growth of healthy tissue.

Fresh grief can also prove to be a complicated mess. Old weeping wounds open as well and if they aren't fully exposed and cleaned, they most likely will scar the soul.

I did a lot of grief-stuffing with the deaths of our parents. Life just took over, but delayed mourning can no longer remain quiet; it spills too!

Long before we learned of Rob's cancer, our hearts ached for eventual inclusion by some of our family. That gaping hurt continues to fester and I see no end to such unspeakable pain. Only now the exclusion screams I must endure it without a constant companion - added insult.

Like the raw grief of losing my best friend, I want these other wounds to heal quickly and effortlessly. But wound care requires patience and dedication and often, a specialist for proper healing. So does grief!

I turn to the One who binds weeping wounds and cares for the brokenhearted, trusting that He will bring a fresh healing in His time. But like David, I can't help asking "Oh Lord-how long?"