Finding My Words

A week has passed since I last wrote.  I know that is abysmal, sad really.  But to be honest, I haven't found my words.  Instead, I've been list-making.  Every moment I'm sitting still, it's a list about school supplies, or birthday plans, or food to buy, or even a list of blog entries I may get around to one day.

Even now, before clicking over to this blog, I procrastinated again and listed the same items only on different paper and with different ink.  I was hoping it would help me clear my mind so I could write, so I could share.

I'll see how it goes.

Last week, our friend's aunt passed away.  The same day, my neighbor texted to let me know her mother died the night before.  Then my sister called me the following day and told me that my uncle Robert from Texas City passed away.  Arrangements were made - my mom and dad were coming to our house. My sister and her family would come the day after.  Then, Kenny got a phone call, his great aunt Eleanor died the following day.  It always seems to happen that way, doesn't it?

My uncle Robert was sick.  He was only 61 and he's been in a care center for a year with severe kidney issues.  He was always an ornery guy and never had a filter.  He didn't care what he said or who he shared his opinions with.  I think most of the time, he was trying to get a reaction, for fun, but it took me awhile to realize that.  He's a big guy, so a bit of a bear.  In fact, Elijah's only memory of him is being scared, because he liked to growl at the kids when he came over.  Robert thought he was being funny, but to a little kid unused to it, his girth and growl forced him to hide.   He was harmless, really. Other children loved him.  And once I got passed that fact that there are few things we'd ever see eye-to-eye on, I kind of enjoyed listening to him banter with Kenny about sports, or ask me about public education (not sure why he thought I would have an opinion) or ask about some historical person he was reading about. Ya see, uncle Robert was always reading.  And he always wanted to go, go driving around, go on a trip, see the world.  We had that in common.  And I think that's what I'll take away from his funeral tomorrow,  from my time with him.  Since I found out, every spare moment, I've said a little prayer for Leona, my aunt.  Robert was not an easy man, especially in the end when he was sick and cranky and tired of being bed-ridden, but she loved him just the same, and that requires great heart, great faith and great endurance.

And all those greats were just enough to inspire me and find my words.

Love to all the Moseley family. My heart is heavy for you.