Ouch!

I tripped when I was on my way home from walking Rowdy. Injured both my hands. Now they are in splints, and I only have good use of my left hand. Right is far worse. Looks like not much more crafting for me in the near future. I have so much to do, too. And the 3rd we have reservations for a day long scrap retreat, too! I am so bummed.

gone--never forgotten

My uncle Kenny Melby died a few weeks ago. I have been rather numb ever since. Kenny was much more a father to me than my own father was. When I was very young, I moved from my mother's to live with my paternal grandmother, Madge, and my aunt and uncle, Jeanne and Kenny. Even after their own daughter was born, they were always there for me. Everything from making me meals to kissing me goodnight. Taking me to school, getting me to church, teaching me to drive: all things I counted on either Jeanne or Kenny to do for me.

I learned what a good marriage is from them and my other aunts and uncles. I learned how to love unconditionally from them. For someone who, though parents were living, was essentially an orphan, I was so totally loved by my grandmother and my extended family.

How then can I not grieve?  I hadn't been home in many years. I always intended to, but life always interfered. I kept thinking, "I will do it next year," but I didn't. So I didn't see those people I love most in this world (aside from my husband and daughter), and now one is no longer with us. I am still feeling a lot of guilt about that. I am also concerned about my aunt Jeanne. How does one get over the loss of the one they have loved and lived with since she was 18 years old? At the funeral she said to me, "I just can't believe I will never be able to talk to him again." My heart broke for her, for the loneliness that is sure to engulf her on occation.

I know Kenny had the straight path to heaven, for he was truly the kindest, most loving, faithful man. He was an example of what Christian looks like. St. Kenny, pray for us.