Webb's birthday without him was much harder for me than Christmas without him and I couldn't let it pass without some mention of it. I normally post entries and identify myself with "posted by Momma" following the title of the post. After the emotion of reminiscing about how the children's motto regarding Webb was He Ain't Heavy; He's My Brother, I was tempted to write "posted by his Momma" as I was feeling like the most significant of all in my missing him, and perhaps somewhat sorry for myself, because unless you've lost a child, well, you have no idea. Of course the Lord brought me to my senses that Webb's passing isn't all about me, and that the Lord is a righteous judge knowing the beginning from the end. So, after praising him for the time I had with Webb, I quickly posted the video Billy made for Sarah Grace with "their song." The Lord glorifies himself in our healing, and that's why he won't leave me in despair, no matter how tempted I am to wallow around in it. He just won't. He always lifts my head.
Speaking of Webb, I had to clean out my purse and I found one of his bow ties. In several of my pocketbooks I have resident bow ties as Webb would wear them for about half an hour, pull them off, and in my bag they'd go. Oh, how irritated I would get with him when he did that! He looked like a cheery-cheeked cherub in those bow ties, with that face like Ralphie from A Christmas Story.
We've watched that movie off our DVR constantly through the holidays. And we all admitted it was because it was like having Webb's chubby pink face around, and we missed pinching it and smooching it and holding it in our hands to adore it. Perhaps that's why Christmas wasn't too grievous since we were reminded of our happy times with him.
Oh, and as for why I had to clean out my purse... I found a moldy wad of something, and I'm not kidding. It was a moldy paper towel with a partially eaten tangerine in it. It got there because I left it there. It wasn't a surprise left by a little boy like the dried up toad I found on the mantelpiece.
This year the fruit for their stockings became much more center-stage since we weren't doing gifts. Naturally I wanted to sample the fruit before I bought eight pieces of each, and somehow the sample tangerine ended up in my handbag... and I forgot about it. (Don't worry, I paid for it.) It only caused minor disruption by getting a couple of things dusty with spores. It was much better than finding an amphibian or reptile, whether dead or alive.
The fruit highlights were our favorite apples, Honeycrisp, and the kids' favorite autumn/winter fruit, pomegranates (which should be eaten outside like watermelon, in my opinion, so you can spray little boys off with the hose pipe, except that it's usually too cold for yard showers. Oh well.) They had some tasty little Bartlett pears in their stockings, but the best ones were bought a couple of days ago and they were extra sweet Bosc pears. The children were very excited about it all, and I love that about them. As a child, I was rather bored with the fruit and nuts in my stocking, and considered them to be taking up precious candy space... especially that stupid banana. My children somehow have more class than I had. They love fruit and nuts and they certainly like candy, but are discerning and prefer fine chocolates and confections. This year their champagne taste was met with a sparkling wine budget however, so there were no fine chocolates to be found. They did enjoy their Dove chocolates and Twix bars, though. Besides, Sarah and I made some treats they prefer over anything store bought, so all's well that ends well. Oh, and I would never give them something as common as a banana. Haha.
I've been writing this post off and on through the night and day because it's snowing to beat the band! I woke up early and continued preparations in case the power went out and made sure they had plenty of ski bibs, hats, gloves, scarves, etc. So far, we're up to about 7" of snow. This is a major event and I suspect even our peeps in the UK can feel the rumble of excitement from the Young Guns. I'm not sure where we rank on the Richter scale, but this house is vibrating. Some of them took a break from sledding to chop wood with their father... sorta like a Jeremiah Johnson bonding time. Sarah and I are making sure they are well-fed and we're fueling them periodically with hot cocoa in hopes of sustaining them in their verve.
Many mommas are stay-at-home mommas today, and I am oh so happy for them! Oh what fun! I'm reminded of a poem I see on keeper-at-home blogs.
At seven A.M., I don't envy the mob
Who rise, shine and shower and go to the job.
In rain, sleet or storm, whether snowing or blowing,
I stay home and savor the joys of not going.
Cheers to you dears out fulfilling yourselves.
I'll bake me a cake, and I'll straighten my shelves,
I'll write some light verse and I'll practice some Bach...
If my neighbor drops in, I'll take time for a talk.
I'd rather have a family than fortune or fame;
I don't think my apron's a Red Badge of Shame.
You're welcome to banking, computers and math,
Guns, plumbing and business. I'll take a hot bath.
Art, music, letters--the good things of life
Are no less my own, since I'm mother and wife.
If I scrub, mop or dig in the garden, I'm free...
Remember, the choices were all made by me.
Helene Lewis Coffer