Life, as they say, is what happens when you are busy making other plans. Thank you, John Lennon.
I see that Blogger is no longer speaking to Firefox. And they want me to try Google Chrome. Since this is not my computer, we shall have to see about that.
But blogging is the least of my concerns. My neck/shoulder issues are resolving, thank you. I came home and took two acetaminophen, ate a delicious dinner not-cooked-by-me, enjoyed a couple hours of quiet chatting in the living room with Beloved, and just about the time we were ready to call it a night, our phones blew up.
His mother has been visiting a granddaughter in Wisconsin and spoiling the great-grands silly. They have an above-ground pool. She decided she was going to join the kidlets in the pool. She had a stroke while climbing the ladder. The paramedics were there in a jiffy and took excellent care of her. The last word we got was that she would be helicoptered to the larger hospital in Madison. Beloved’s sisters are flying to Wisconsin this morning. One of his sisters has been watching over their father (not Beloved’s father, but his cherished stepfather) and stepmother for several months, so her plate already runneth over.
Our wonderful bishop has emailed me names and phone numbers of several bishops in Madison. I have forwarded that to Beloved. I will call the temple in an hour or so (it is closed on Mondays, and especially on Monday nights, which are for Family Home Believ’ning, as one of my kids used to call it) and put her name on the prayer roll. We called all our kids last night and have them praying, and I emailed my sister, who is adding her own prayers and positive thoughts. Beloved will make the phone calls that will get the missionaries to the hospital to give his mom a blessing.
All of which puts the wistfulness I was feeling on my drive home from work last night, about the SOOM limited edition doll I discovered when I had run out of work and was killing the last few minutes before leaving the office, whose last day for ordering is tomorrow and which I cannot afford, squarely into perspective. She’s lovely, but she’s not family, and it is family that matters most, after God.
I hope you have a blessed and peaceful day. Thank you for your love and friendship, hope and prayers.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!