How I want to be in that number the stars

Us: Five years married

Ken's mom here -- needing to pen a few thoughts on this weekend of all saints and all souls. It's a weekend that has become a mosaic of milestones to me, and so, I take a moment (to temporarily hoard eldest-son Ken's space in the blog-o-sphere) to recognize the delicate balance that life strives to bring.

Eleven years ago this weekend, I lost -- many of us lost -- Kate. Grief has a funny way of sneaking up on its tip-toes.  Time passes, you begin to reconcile. Then, a song, a memory, a scent, passes by, and you're consumed -- if just for a moment -- by the Unreasonable. Swung by the tail -- if just for a moment -- and reminded of the depth of your loneliness for this person, for what more you should have done, for what might have been, could have been.

Sam: Age 3

Lord help each of us as we embrace life according to You. Every year on this weekend, I find myself grieving her loss, celebrating her life, and recognizing the incessant ways she continues to gently shape the moments of my presence here. Because,

• Eleven years ago this weekend, we met Kate's newborn son.
• Seven years ago this weekend, I fell in love (officially). 
• Six years ago this weekend, I said yes. 
• Five years ago this weekend, I married my Adam. 
• Three years ago this weekend, my Sam was born.

Kate

And every year, this weekend, I kiss my husband, I hug my son, and I am struck with the overwhelming sense that balance exists -- no matter how delicate. For, with every loss, there is a lesson. With every lesson there is a learning. With every learning, there is choice. And, with every choice, there is a chance for better than before.

We've all feared, loved, lost. On this weekend of all saints and all souls, remember that we're not in this alone. Life is ours for the living, and it's all worth fighting for.


Happy weekend,
mbc