Thanking God


To touch a newborn’s innocence is to thank God for living upon this Earth.”

Kim Gosselin

*photo courtesy of Google                                                                                                                                         

A Beautiful Bundle of ‘Baby-Blue’


My first grandson was born on Sunday, April 27th at 4:34 am, weighing in at 7 pounds, 9 ounces and measuring 21 inches in length.

Congratulations to my eldest son, Jayson together with his dear wife, Nichole on the birth of their first son.  Their daughter, ‘Gracie-Girl’ is now a big sister at the tender age of two!

Thank you, God, for this blessed gift of a healthy baby boy.  What pure  joy this little ‘angel’ will surely add to our family from this day forward….forevermore.

Let the games begin…………

Christmas Eve Sister


As most of you know, when I wake in the morn, I have no plan in my head.  What will I write about?  Either I sit at my cozy desk or like today,  in a darkened desert guest room to type away at what  appears on the screen.  It’s Christmas time! This should be the theme.  “Yes and No”….”Yes and Yes.”

I’m thinking of my middle sister, nearly five years younger than me.  Wouldn’t you know, she was born on Christmas Eve?  How was I blessed to have so many birthdays surrounding Christmas?  My sister’s falls today.   My father wakes to his tomorrow.  How lucky my family is to ‘share’ this sacred time with Him!

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God Heals All Things


On our third day home from the hospital it became apparent that my newborn, Justin, was very ill.  A mother knows. When a hungry baby begins to nurse, he is soothed and all is well.  My son jerked away in pain.  He wailed loud with frustration while flailing his arms and legs between the instinct of hunger and the pain of prevention.  Unable to fill his need, my heart quickened at his agony.

With my husband out-of-town, my parents drove me back to the hospital of his birth.   My “big baby” looked like a miniature doll once he was placed in a large hospital crib.  Nurses and aids surrounded him; taking tests, doing measurements, and writing notes on clipboards.  My heart broke whenever a needle was stuck into his unsuspecting heel.  It was like squeezing blood from a turnip. Each time I caught sight of the  white-coated lady from the lab, I rushedto protect my new son.   Even if only to hold his clenched fist or whisper sweet nothings into his ear.  He knew my voice and for a second on the clock, a sense of calmness came over him.

My baby son was born with a tiny tear in his ureter, allowing urine to seep into his stomach whenever he “relieved” himself.  Eventually infection took over his infant body which caused him great pain.  To make him well, I would drop pink medicine into his mouth from a dropper for the first year of his life.  Much like a mother bird feeds her young while in the nest of tall trees whispering in the wind.  Doctors hoped the tear would heal itself as they often do.

With only hours to go before my baby’s discharge, my body was attacked by ravaging pain in the darkness of the night.  Truly, I felt like I might die.  The pediatric wing was hushed quiet with baby’s sleeping breaths.  Somehow, I made it to the nurses station where I asked the little gal in green to please take me down to ER.  Looking at me in disbelief, she wondered briefly if I might have another “baby in my tummy?”

I would think this was an unbelievable story if it hadn’t happened to me.  Only days after giving birth by c-section and tending to my sick infant, I was re-admitted for my second surgery.  My gallbladder needed to be removed as soon as possible!  Two days later, I went home to the open arms of my little Jayson waiting patiently for his mother and new baby brother in the open door jamb.  Never was I so grateful to be home, to have my family “whole” again.   Our ribbon had come loose and quickly needed to be re-tied.  God had blessed me by giving me the strength to get through.  He had answered my prayers in so many ways.

In so many ways…..

Far Apart


Saguaro Cactus located in AZ. The man in the p...

My husband had just won the “Rookie of the Year” Award for being the “Top Salesman” of the eye-care company he worked for.  He was scheduled to fly to Phoenix to accept it the day after he brought us home from the hospital.  He didn’t think he should go, especially since I had just had a C-Section.

I, on the other hand, insisted that he pack his bags and get “on that plane!” He worked hard for his award and deserved to receive it in front of his peers.  Over the next few days he’d have the opportunity to network  with others from all across the country, which could only enhance our future.   Thinking back on all of the years I had spent babysitting my brood of younger siblings made me realize I was prepared for this time in my life.  I felt no reservations, nor anxiety about being alone with our 7 pound son.  In fact, I relished the idea.  I couldn’t wait to tip-toe into his room, peak over his crib and gently rest my palm on his beating heart.  I looked forward to rocking him in my cradled arms, snuggling while humming hushed lullabies within his ears, alone.

Together, my infant son and I could survive for weeks alone.  The refrigerator had been stocked with food of all sorts including gallons of milk for me to drink.  As for my baby, my body held the only nourishment he needed. How convenient!  His nursery was filled with diapers and clothes, blankets, ointments, and every piece of baby paraphernalia one could imagine.  We would be fine.  Of course, my parents were just a phone call away.  Knowing my husband, he had arranged for them to “drop by” unannounced within the next day or so.

Every night my husband called from Phoenix, promptly at 10pm.  He sat outside by campfire along-side a saguaro cactus, telling me tales of business meetings and award dinners.  Still,  I could hear the longing in his voice.  He couldn’t wait to get back to the two of us, his new family who waited for him nestled among the snowbanks of Michigan.  Across the country, on the other end of the line I lulled our infant son to sleep.  Frosted ice patterns decorated our outside glass window panes.  They seemed to  whisper good-night wishes to my far away husband through shining shadows of the moon.

“Daddy’s coming home soon, I promise.”