Clary Love

​ How can I remember the night before my first child was born and the day he was born in specific detail, but so many other days have just floated away?  Becoming a mother changed me.  Raising a son changed me.  And those two things feel as of they are written in my bones for eternity.  I have begun to deepen my understanding of God’s love to a new extent with the birth of a baby boy and watching him grow.  I have glimpsed at how deep my parents' love toward me is because of my children.  I see my faith clearer. Morals stronger.  Friendship is fiercer.  Family is more valued.  In the last eleven years and nine months, I have become a better person. I pray it continues.  Before having children, birthdays were about the person whose birth it was to celebrate.  Now, I would say birthdays should be for the mother, the father, the guardian, or the parent, for it is them whose year is shifted each year with the passing of age and seasons. It is not one's birth that leaves the most pr

Six months later, Happy birthday and the worst anniversary ever to celebrate. Six months of insanity and confusion have ensued. You have missed mom's 70th birthday that you were so excited to plan and both your sons' birthdays.  You have missed your 49th wedding anniversary. You have missed three of your grandkids' birthdays and soon the other three.  You have missed watching Chloe grow in motherhood through pregnancy.  You missed job acceptances, changes, and so many challenging conversations you were needed for with all the solicited and unsolicited advice. Your absence has caused confusion, pain, sadness, strange relief, joy, fear, and all emotions.  Your grandkids have changed so much in six months, more than any other year—height, weight, courage, education, intellect, family, athlete, and faith.  Relationships are challenged, strengthened, bonded, divided, paralyzed, and still in limbo in the wake of your death.  The pool has been crazy, the weather is hot, and your p