I love writing a blog each week. It’s given me a voice I’ve never had before. Thank you for reading them, commenting on them, and in general, letting me know what you think. It means a lot to me to interact with people. However, I’m going to take a break for a few weeks and here’s why:
A lot of changes are coming at Hubby and me right now. His mother is dying, and I must concentrate on family needs first. She’s done so much for us throughout our married life, and we will all miss her when she’s gone. But she’ll never be forgotten. Our memories of her remain with us.
I first met Cheryl when Hubby took me home to meet his parents. I was terrified, and she was highly skeptical. I don’t blame her. Hubby hadn’t even told his parents he was dating so I was the surprise package he brought home. One of Cheryl’s friends told me she had a fit when Hubby told his mom he was getting married to a timid high-school graduate. Like any mother, she had higher aspirations for her boy.
In time, I proved myself in her eyes, and we’ve been friends ever since. She and Jim loaned us the money the build our first house, then came to wire and put siding on it. Jim was an amazing electrician and could build about anything. They helped us when we bought our house in Spearfish. After signing the papers, Hubby and I walked in the door and were smacked in the face with the reek of animal urine (we learned why there were always candles burning when we looked at it). Jim and Cheryl answered our call for help and drove over to help us rip all the flooring out of our “new” house. They were always there whenever we needed help.
Jim and Cheryl spent lots of time on the Missouri River and Oahu Reservoir in their boat. We spent many weekends with them floating on the river and swimming in the reservoir. Jim taught my son how to fish and water ski. They pulled both the kids behind the boat on an innertube. Lot and lots of sunshine and fun were had with them.
As we’ve sorted through her things, we found Cheryl’s baby book, started in 1930. What struck me was reading the milestones recorded for her were just like the ones I’d recorded for my children and grandchildren. If nothing else, these sad times have reminded me of the cycle of life. Children are supposed to bury their parents. It’s the way of living. We’re all walking down that same road until each generation goes home, and the next one walks on until they reach their own homes. It’s been going on since the beginning and will continue after we’re gone. It’s what we do while traveling that road that makes all the difference.