Lift High the Cross

The Recessional Hymn today was "Lift High the Cross" and frankly, I've never heard it sung with more energy or fervor. I am certain the angels heard us.

Lift high the cross

The love of Christ proclaim

Till all the world

adore His sacred name...

As I sat in St. Pat's I couldn't help but wonder about, how many of us were wondering about, how many people would be at our funerals, when we were the ones to die. At communion the people poured fourth. And didn't stop coming. What a testament to Muzz and her bountiful love. And how incredibly humbling for all us witnesses.

As Uncle Bri so pointedly stated, "Death is so final...". And it is. It is, I thought as I listened to his words and stared at the half-masted-flag billowing above the hundreds of mourners that filed into MKCC today. And the stinging began in the backs of my eyes once again. All I can believe, I told Bri, is that we go to some place more special than this.

It is hard to go there - into the depths of my mind wondering and worrying and worrying and wondering about what happens when we die. And I feel like I've been there a lot lately. Fielding the countless and unyielding questions from my curious wondering 4 year-old who always seems to ask the REALLY hard ones, just when I'm at my weakest moments. Today HE told ME that Muzz went to heaven by helicopter. Excellent, I thought. He knows far more about this than I.

And then I drift along again thinking how hard it is to imagine the world drifting along. Carrying on. Carrying on without me. Or today, without Muzz. The sea of people on the buffet line, ordering drinks from the bar, making small talk about the hot weather. Where WAS MUZZ?

Was she with us? Could she hear us singing? Did she see?

Fast forward three hours to an energy filled car-ride (thanks to a bag of 6 oreos). Dec and I were to deliver Mads to Muffs for dinner and reunite her with her amazingly wonderful parents. (P.S. you really are the best).

With Dec and Mads, chittering and chattering in the back, I turned up the volume on the cd and tuned them out for a few moments. I reflected on the day. Where do we go? How will Mr. Z fair by himself? What will his world be like without her?

My questions were abruptly interrupted by words being belted from the back seat. Mads was singing along (with fervor!) to one of my faves. Not to be outdone, Dec chimed in moments later. I turned the volume way up and savored every moment of hearing these two cousins sing the words to a song that I never would have guessed they'd know the words to.

It goes a little something like this:

I welcome the sun,
the clouds and rain,
the wind that sweeps the sky clean
and lets the sun shine again.
this is the most magnificent life has ever been.
here is heaven and earth
and the brilliant sky in between.

blessed is this life
and I'm gonna celebrate being alive.
blessed is this life
and I'm gonna celebrate being alive

I dwell in the darkness
I let in the light
I sleep in the afternoon
and become the noise in the night
I trespass in temptation
suffered in sacrifice
but I awake each day with a new sunrise

blessed is this life, oh
and I'm gonna celebrate being alive
blessed is this life, oh
and I'm gonna celebrate being alive

~ Brett Dennen (the amazing brett dennen)

And, as I pulled into Muffs, the two wee ones still belting out the words, I thought that maybe -just maybe - that was Muzzy telling me not to worry so much about the future, but to enjoy the brilliance of now.

And just like that, I had some of the answers to my questions from earlier in the day.

She was with us.

She could hear us singing.

And she did see.

Sweet Nonie

Happy birthday to my girl.
Who says you can't have your cake and eat it too?

Today, you and I proved this proverb to be untrue.

MY A.D.S.

My "A.D.S." - After Dinner Shuffle (defined in Emah's post just down there, below my post about Enya) this evening was successful.

After I finished paying homage to Enya, I deserved something. Something Sweet.

So, I sashayed to the treat stash and opened a new pack of oreos.

While I pulled back the (rather loud) wrapper, I justified that 4 oreos were deserved.

One for each member of our family.

Made complete sense at the time, even though I was the only one eating them.

'Cause I was the only one still awake.

They were good. Darn good.

All four of them.

Thanks for asking.

It just takes a little Enya, sometimes.

Dear Enya. You lulled my entire household to a happy place this evening.
I owe ya one.

P.S. Miss Nonie is missing from these photos because Enya lulled her to sleep sooner than expected!
P.P.S. Both boys are squeaky clean in that photo!!! Love that.

The DNA of sweets...

I know it's all about food, but I like food. I especially like cake. I worked all day, cleaned, organized bins and bins of kids clothing. Up and down into the attic multiple times. I only almost only fell off once while holding a bin of clothes over my head.

Now sitting here, all I want is cake. With icing. Lots of it. I blames genetics for this. Growing up there was not much formal desert. Maybe the occasional ccc (chocolate chip cookie) if someone happened to bake that day. But there was ALWAYS the after dinner shuffle...trying to keep quiet the rustle...crunch...rustle...munch of someone looking for a treat.

Whether it was a handful of semi-sweet chocolate chips or one of dad's Stella Dora's (I'm pretty sure he figured out none of us would touch these, so he could have the whole packet to himself) there was a sweet tooth that needed to be soothed. And that has been passed on to me. And here I am. Sitting. About to pad onto the kitchen to quietly rustle..crunch...rustle....trying to keep quiet so Bri doesn't know.

But it's not me. It's my teeth. They're telling me to do it. And while I know I may find something in there, I know there is no cake.

But there is some butter out on the counter waiting for an ambitious person to bake something.

Maybe tomorrow.

Cake...it's my downfall.

+/- 3 Hours

Last year, on the first day of school, Dec consoled the boy that no one could console. He shared a puzzle. He led the sobbing boy to the snack table and sat with him. And soon enough, they were friends. The sad boy was no longer sad. Instead, we referred to him as one of Dec's dear friends.

Admittedly, Dame and I went over the top this year with conversations about how we hoped Dec would reach out to other children and help anyone else who is sad during their first few days of school. Make sure you're on the lookout for someone who needs a friend, we said.

As it turned out, the stories that we pulled from his 4-year-old mouth indicated that all was well at school this year. Everyone was getting on just fine. Good.

But (thanks in large part to the Dad/Mom factor), crying kids on the first day of school was at the forefront of Dec's mind. Radar? On.

On this, his 5th morning of school, we were zipping along down the road for drop-off when his little voice chirped up from behind me...

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, buddy..."

"Did anyone cry on your first day of college?"

(Pause)

Then stinging in my eyes.

Hmmmm. Wasn't prepared for that one.

Still, no words. (Poor kid probably thought I was ignoring him).

If I hadn't been fighting back tears, I would have told him all about the time Granny Annie dropped me off for my first day of BC, only to return 72 hours later to console me.

And I would have told him about the card (that I still have) that Granny wrote to me during my 2nd week of school insisting that she could be with me in +/- 3 hours. If needed.

And I certainly would have told him about all the additional times I put Granny's +/-3 hour challenge to the test over the course of 4 years.

Instead, in a whispered voice I said, "Yes buddy. I cried on the first day of college".

Shock filled his simple, "why?"

"I missed my mommy."

And with that, we were in the parking lot of school.

In +/- 3 minutes, Dec squeezed my hand as we walked through the parking lot, and gave me a lingering hug by his cubbyhole.

And so this morning, on his 5th day of pre-school, Dec consoled me. Once again I was humbled by my little guy who is so so good.

He was on the lookout for someone who needed a friend today. And that someone was me.

My domain

I like when all the dishes are on the right side of the sink.

That's the clean side.