Tom and I were married on this date nine years ago. With lots of life and a combination of seven children under our belts, we had what is termed “baggage”.
Still, we were in love and determind that we would make a life together.
Here we are, after nine years full of bumps, tears, triumphs and joy. In that time we have gained a daughter-in-law, two sons-in-law and a grandson. We have lost, too- parents, a nephew, a brother-in-law and several really great friends.
We have shared great joy and great sorrow.
This is life. This is what we pledged to walk through with one another.

Today is the first day of summer break. It is also the day Graham and I embark on an adventure- a “project” of sorts. Our plan is to research, explore and chronicle our home state of Louisiana. We’ve only been back here for a few months. Graham hasn’t lived here for the last 9 or so of his 10+ years. I haven’t lived here for many, many more years than that! There is so much history and culture in Louisiana and we plan to know much of it by the end of summer.

I knew it would happen… eventually. Every kid goes through this rite of passage. And then, so does every mother.

As we approached Graham’s school this morning, he said “Mom, could you say you love me BEFORE I open the door to get out?”.

I feel a little sting to my heart. And I remembered a story my own mother often told of my first day of school. She walked me into my classroom and tried to hug and kiss me goodbye. I refused. She left in tears and cried all day.

Full circle.

It’s April 1st- the universal day of practical jokes. Keeping my ears and eyes open, lest my imaginative husband tries to prank me.

I rushed into the local bookstore this morning for a Christmas gift I had to get into the mail today. My search was fruitful, but still I felt anxious, knowing I had a full list of things left to accomplish. My mind rushing, I approached the check-out.

The young lady behind the register smiled and offered a sweet “Hello”. She looked like most young ladies her age, except for the bald head. (I was curious, but didn’t ask, WHY the bald head). We chatted a bit and I told her that it has been hard for me to get into the Christmas spirit, as I’ve recently lost my mom.
She pointed to her head and said “It’s been hard for me, too. I’m taking chemo”.

I thought of my own children, about her age. And I thought of this girl’s mother, and how she must hurt for her child as she faces this disease and treatment.

My voice shaking, I asked her name.
“Kim”.
I told her I will praying for her.
I hope you will be, too.

I’ve been here about three months now. It’s beginning to feel like home, again.
Having been away for 30 years, I’d forgotten much about the area, the people and the history of my home state. But in the time I’ve been back, I’ve been sweetly reminded of what could make any of us proud to say “Louisiana is my home”.
The folks here are genuine. They care. When they meet you on the street and ask “how are you?”, it is sincere. They hold dear family and faith. And everyone is family.
Chivalry is alive here. Being the somewhat old-fashioned, conservative southern lady, I like that.
One of my absolute favorite things of being back is that I am not accused of having an accent.

Life changed forever on this date eleven years ago. My husband, Kenneth, was killed in an accident. He was 38 years young.
In those first days and weeks, I thought I, too, would die. I knew I had to go on, to live for my three children. They needed me. And, I, them- more than I even realized.
There were many hard times, but we did make it through.
Every day Kenneth is remembered. Sometimes it is in the
words of a song, in laughter, in tears or a sunset.
Kenneth lives on- in our hearts and our memories.

Perhaps my earliest memories of childhood are singing along with my Momma and the other congregants in a little country church called Oak Grove Baptist. I loved the words of those songs and the sound of what seemed in my young mind to be angels singing. 

The years passed and on occasion Momma, my sister Debbie and I sat on the back steps of our home and sang those same songs together, enjoying the comforts of those familiar verses and the company of one another.

I grew up and moved far away from that home. I continued to sing those songs in church, eventually with my own children. Every word I sang took me back home to the sweetness of my past and a visit with Momma.

Momma left this earth and went to her final reward in Heaven on July 6, 2009. I’m sure she’s signing those old, sweet songs we once sang together.   

Some sweet day, I’ll join her and we’ll again sing:

Some glad morning when this life is o’er,
I’ll fly away
To a home home on God’s celestial shore,
I’ll fly away.

I’ll fly away, o’ glory
I’ll fly away, in the morning
when I die, Hallelujah, by and by
I’ll fly away.

Just a few more weary days and then,
I’ll fly away.
To a land where joy will never end,
I’ll fly away .

I’ll fly away o’ glory,
I’ll fly away, in the morning.
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I’ll fly away.

Josie Faye Herring Jones

July 5, 1933-July 6, 2009

I Love You, Momma.

going back home. My home state, at least. It’s been 29 years since I’ve lived there. And unlike most folks, I’ve never had a hankering to move “back home”, to Louisiana.

I enjoyed my adopted home, Texas. I lived in Wichita Falls, San Antonio, Pleasanton, Kingsville and Carrollton. Other than Wichita Falls, I understand the pride of Texans. Then again, WF is practically in Oklahoma, so maybe it’s not officially a part of “The Republic”.

In 2005, my husband received a nice job offer in Florida. We have enjoyed Florida! There may be a slight misrepresentation of “The Sunshine State” because for the past month, as in every summer for the four years we’ve lived here, we have had rain everyday. Still, we plan to enjoy our last few weeks here.

In over a month, we’ll be immersed in the life and culture of Lafayette, Louisiana. It may be my birth state, but definitely a different way of life from where I was raised. (I’m from southeast Louisiana!). Different food, topography, music, even language! I’m determined to embrace my new home and make it my own.

My new mantra is “home is where you make it”.

It’s been raining here for about four straight days and nights. No let-up. We needed the rain, so I’m not complaining. There’s a tropical storm hovering off the coast of Florida. Extended forecast calls for more rain. 

The pool is over-flowing and the ground is soggy. Our kitchen is still out of order, some of the work delayed because of the rain.

Grilling in the rain isn’t so much fun, either. We’ll hang (or, float) in there until it’s back to being The Sunshine State.