Archive for April, 2013

Sitting on the patio with a mug of tea (mug designed by darling daughter at a friend’s pottery painting party).  It’s a little chilly outside right now but it’s quiet, except for the two robins singing their hearts out in the trees around the corner.

Looking back on a crazy busy week that was  – beginning a week ago Friday with a school fundraiser at a local sports bar and my first time out as a grown up in a very long time (for the record, I can still cut a mean rug on the dance floor);  Saturday – we attended a dear friend’s wedding at one of our favourite local restaurants; on Sunday we went to church and then headed to the children’s festival, where my daughter got to meet Victoria Justice from Nickelodeon thanks to a very generous volunteer who gave me a backstage pass to the Meet and Greet.  Result – one very happy little six year old who now believes she is going to meet Big Time Rush when we go to their concert in June.  Not sure how I am going to manage that one.

Monday  – yearbook deadline for me after pulling three late-nighters – and dress rehearsal for N’s recital – a madcap scramble to get her fed and ready after school because all six of us moms whose daughters dance together completely forgot the date;  Tuesday – TBall practice;  Wednesday -field trip with an after school club to the Arboretum and a weather change from summer to winter in the space of an hour;  Thursday – dress rehearsal for a local high school spring show in which the girls had been selected to perform their tap routine – a huge honour for them;  Friday night – first show; Saturday morning TBall game and evening show……and a birthday party this afternoon.   I’m letting N sleep in this morning instead of rushing to choir practice and then church – she deserves it.  And I need a little quiet time too.

Been very reflective since last weekend.   The school fundraiser was held at one of R’s old stomping grounds: they serve a mean Philly cheesesteak and have a myriad TVs tuned into the sports channels of the day;  I know he would have really enjoyed the evening and kicked up his heels on the dance floor in his own unique two-left-feet-my-style-is-my-own.  He would have cried at my friend’s wedding, coached third base for N’s team, and used up a whole box of tissues at the dance show last night too.

It’s hard to believe that R has missed almost two whole years of our lives – N has come through kindergarten with flying colours and is learning so much every day.  She has a poise on the dance floor that belies her six years;  and a presence on the TBall field already.   She attacks every task with vigor and a cheerful demeanour.   I love her strength and determination – especially during the occasional meltdown at home – when she plants her feet stubbornly, screws up her face, and yells at me “Mommy, you’re NOT LISTENING!”   As for me, I am truly blessed to be her mom – and to be working in a place surrounded by little voices and feet, where I really feel appreciated every single day, and where I know I am making a difference, even if it’s just a small one in the big scheme of things.

In less than a month it will be our tenth wedding anniversary.   Not a day goes by that I don’t think of R and the life we shared.  I wonder what he would think of our lives now?  I know he would be proud of us.   The raw grief of loss has faded, but I have been thinking about him a little more than usual this week and I know N has too.   Tomorrow we are going back to Bo’s Place to join the twice-a-month ongoing group.   It’s almost a year since we finished our nine-week Thursday meetings, and we’ve come so far, but we still have a long road ahead.  It will be good for both of us to have an outlet again to express our feelings with others who have been through similar experiences.

This past week the Cardinals baseball team honoured the life of Stan Musial, who passed away in January.  Opening day in St Louis was a week ago today, and the first time since 1945 that baseball’s “perfect Knight” Musial had not been present in some form on the ballfield at Busch Stadium.   On Sunday they unveiled the wall tribute – the same patch which the ballplayers will wear on their uniforms for the season.  N is wearing #6 for TBall this season as my own little tribute to my late husband – and to R and his Dad’s favourite player.

Yesterday morning I was walking the dog around our park when I heard the peep-peep of a pair of Cardinals.   “Show yourself, Mr Cardinal,”  I said – half to myself.  And suddenly there was a flash of red and a beat of wings right above my head, and the male Cardinal himself landed on the plinth right in front of me.  He looked magnificent, preening himself and fixing me with his beady black eye.  Cocking his head watchfully at the dog, who of course was completely oblivious as usual with his nose in the grass, Mr Cardinal scraped his beak on the bricks, and flew off to join his mate.

I often wonder when I see the redbird if R  – being from St Louis – is sending a little reminder to me that he is always watching over us.  This morning I picked up a penny from the floor under my laptop desk, Lincoln side up.  A penny from heaven?  It’s comforting to think so.








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