I see that it has been exactly 2 months since my last post for this blog. I confess I have wondered if it is time for me to hang up my blogs. But writing is healing for me, and stories still need to be told even when they are painful! I believe we model for our sons and grandchildren ways that we handle difficulty. After all, it is not about the heaviness of the load, but the way that you bear it!  Joe's vision is improved but still fluctuating after laser surgery; he is still unable to drive and vision related  pursuits he enjoys like reading and watching television are unsatisfactory.    A month ago I spent a week in the hospital due to pneumonia secondary to flu. Since then we have made and kept over 20 medical appointments! Friends and family have called, prayed, shared food and flowers. God is with us every moment. We have learned in new ways the blessing of asking for help, and allowing it!  

The week after I was released from the hospital, we had a surprise impromptu Parker family reunion!  Twenty three people, most of whom we have not seen in several years, gathered to not only bring a meal but clean up every single thing after we had visited all afternoon. There is great joy in keeping family connections. I love looking at photos and seeing all the smiles and shining eyes!  I stood near my kitchen table where 5 girl cousins and Ben were laughing and trading stories. 2 of these "girls" were flower girls in our wedding!  Sean and his family had just left to go home, and Jeremy (in Nevada) received a phone call from them. As they put the phone on speaker and continued their laughter, I thought this was a dear moment I could never have dreamed when we planned that  Christmas wedding 3 days after Christmas in 1963!  

Three of Joe's brothers (here with other groomsmen) have passed from earthly life. His brother Pasco (3rd from Joe in the photo) and his wife, Iris, my sister in law Judy, nieces, a grand nephew, and Iris' sister and her husband plus our sons and their families who live near us made the group that Saturday. 

Journey

I miss the storytelling when I go weeks without working on this blog. There have been very few times that has happened. The reasons are almost always the same: family circumstance and illness.

This time is no exception. In addition to problems occurring during travel with our son and granddaughters, 2 weeks ago Joe woke up unable to see anything at all. Since he only has one eye, when that eye is affected, the result is grim. We have excellent medical resources here and he is being treated by a retina specialist. He has 2 kinds of glaucoma which has resulted in dangerously high intraocular pressure and severe pain plus vision loss.  Last week he had laser surgery on the eye. There is some improvement but his vision is still very poor. Our hopes and prayers are that there will be continued healing and improved vision. We are no strangers to eye disease. Our youngest son was diagnosed with Cone Rod Dystrophy when he was  10, resulting in severe vision loss. His experience and spirit have been important to Joe as he deals with this latest issue of his own. I had cornea transplants. The first one was 12 years ago next month. The other eye received a transplant 2 months later. None of these issues appear related. Although none of them have been something we would have chosen, I realize that our combined experiences have given us a strength and connections with medical experts that is a phenomenal resource as we wait for the results for Joe.

Enough for today. It is not always true that one picture is worth a thousand words.

Stitches

Every year in late winter, trail riders make their way on horseback and in wagons through outlying areas of Houston to gather for the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. As the dates approach, western hats and gear appear everywhere, even if those wearing them are not on the way to the rodeo. Nora has her boots and vest and hat, but it is not easy to find gear for a tiny baby boy who has not been walking very long, so I decided to I would make Oliver a vest, complete with a badge for the newest sheriff in town.  When I was helping him try it on, I thought about all the stitches that sewing machine and I have made together. I bought it around 1961, when I was still a student at Oklahoma Baptist University. In 1963 I used that machine to make my wedding gown!

I don't spend as much time sewing these days, but my faithful stitcher is ready to work when I am. It has been my helper in mending, making most of my own clothes at one time, sewing baby boy overalls when our sons were little, making shirts and curtains, pillows, and table linens. I have a picture of me on the morning we left to go to the hospital in downtown San Antonio. That cold January morning, I was wearing a gray knit coat with a paisley lining that I made. I remember that one well, because my bulging belly would not allow the lapels of the coat to meet and button!

Nora brings me everything that needs "fixing" and asks me to sew it up for her. I am glad the Singer and I continue to be stitchworthy. It has proved worth far more than I paid for it. And I was shocked when I saw that on Ebay, it is now worth more than that original $150, which at the time seemed such an extravagance. I think it was a good buy!

I am thankful for my Grandmother and for my Mother, who sewed for me and showed me the value in that creative skill.

Planting

This scene (and so the picture) is an image I never want to forget. It is also full of reminders of these days in our life as a family. It is a record of a day in early March, 2018 - a day of sunshine and planting and doing things together. You can tell that Joe and Nora are planting seeds and seedlings. I also see trust and tenderness between an 80 year old grandfather and an almost 4 year old little girl. What the photo does not reflect that my heart does is the back story.  Nora and I read Jan Karon's book The Trellis and the Seed,  a beautifully illustrated children's book by one of my favorite authors - one I have given to all my grandchildren, usually with a package of Moonflower seeds tucked inside. I told Nora we would look to see if there were Moonflower seeds in our box of garden seeds. Joe said he had Moonflower seeds sprouting already under his growlight! Then Nora's mom found a bag of seeds collected from last years Moonflowers. So the planting is a picture of extended family and cooperation.

Now there are sprouts. We check every day for leafing and climbing. We will all watch for the first fragrant white blooms that grace us only at night, fading just as the Morning Glories begin to open!

OBU Graduation Day 1964

Joe has been going through a great many old photos and recently chose this one to scan and post on his FaceBook page captioned "1964. . . . . Mary Ann graduated from Oklahoma Baptist University, BS in Nursing. Student Nurse of the Year in Oklahoma."  Yes, there I am, 2nd from left, grinning. I am one of the few who seem to be looking at the camera. I think that is because they are all looking toward their own families who are capturing the moment. Joe was there - we married a few months before. My parents did not come because my sister was graduating from high school that May as well. I look at the picture and call almost all the names without hesitation. Barbara Nichols, on the end at the right, is the only one I am still in touch with after 54 years although I have not seen her since graduation.I know that at least 2 of the 10 women pictured have passed away.  

I still have my diploma and worked at a number of different jobs after this date, moving many times for Joe's job.But I have used knowledge and experience gained from my time at Oklahoma Baptist University every day of my life. I am not sure that I was overwhelmed with  gratitude that day (unless from relief that I had completed what I undertook) - but I am at this moment. In my 78th year I am keenly aware of the sacrifices of my parents, the amazing opportunities my education provided, the impact of friendships -  and deeply thankful for it all. 

For the Love of Oliver

Photograph by Joe D. Parker

 Oliver Hilton Parker is sunshine on this foggy day!  He has changed from baby boy to toddler as he begins to walk and explore. He is the first of our grandchildren to be a boy, and also the first to live with Joe and me. He is named for his great grandfather, Joe's Daddy - Oliver Byron Parker and his other grandfather, Kelly Hilton Edwards.. He and his Papa Joe have a special bond, a mutual admiration society. Each seems to know what the other is thinking and saying without any talking!

 I smile when I watch them together - the 80 year old grandfather and the almost 15 months boy.  They clearly adore each other Of course, Joe is crazy about all his granddaughters too. And without exception, Oliver's sister and all his girl cousins, his parents and all his other grandparents, aunts and uncles think he is special too.

54 Valentine's Days

Joe has been scanning some old photos. This is one he posted to FaceBook recently so there have been  alot of conversations about it which are fun. Of course, the memories that rise to the surface are fun, too. It occurs to me that we did not celebrate our first Valentine's Day together until after we were married. After he was discharged from serving in the Army in late 1962, Joe went to work for Petty Geophysical Company on a seismic crew that was working at the time in Duncan, Oklahoma. Our mutual good friend Eddie Ballard told Joe that I was a student at Oklahoma Baptist University, currently doing the clinical portion of my degree studies in Oklahoma City and suggested he look me up. Although we were both from the same small town in Texas (Jacksonville) and went to the same church and  high school, he graduated a few years ahead of me. I knew him but we had never dated so I was surprised when he called one evening in early February  and asked if I would like to go out. He drove up to the City, we had dinner and went to a movie and apparently both enjoyed the evening.  I had plans for the next 2 weekends and one of those was a date for a Valentine Banquet. I don't remember anything about where that was or even the name of my date, but I do remember that after that the only person I dated was Joe. On some of our early dates, he brought T Bone Steaks and grilled them for a wonderful meal at my apartment. The old saying "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" was true in the reverse. I am not sure he was impressed with my cooking at the time, but I was impressed with his! By October we were planning a wedding. On December 28, 1963, we said "I do."  Our friend Eddie was best man!

Now we have celebrated 54 Valentine's Days - not always together and certainly not always fancy. We have said "Be mine, Valentine"  in many different ways and different places. That first Valentine's day in 1964 in our tiny apartment in Oklahoma City was the beginning but the next one was in Corvallis, Oregon. There were Valentine celebrations in Houston, San Antonio, and Dallas. Then California, Indonesia, and back to Texas.  Cooking is one of my love languages, so most of the time I have cooked for him at home, but we have also had some wonderful meals in fine restaurants. Yesterday we were talking about our favorite restaurants from all the places and all the years.  And yes, once in awhile, he still grills T Bone steaks!

Still Part of Our Story

A story about our family and this house was among early blog posts in 2010 (I began the blog in 2009) but I found this article recently when I was sorting a box of kept stuff. Our family still mentions our experience there fondly; we never pass through Jacksonville without driving by and remembering. The historical marker acquired by my research still stands.

 This photo and article appeared in the ARCO Spark, a company periodical, while we still owned the house but after we had moved back to Plano. Little did we know at the time that 2 years later we would be living in the Los Angeles area for a year before moving home and family to Jakarta, Indonesia in 1987!


Below I have included the story I wrote in 2010.

Eudora Welty said that “One place understood helps us understand all places better.” and “There may come to be new places in our lives that are second spiritual homes closer to us in some ways, perhaps, than our original homes. But the home tie is the blood tie. And had it meant nothing to us, any other place thereafter would have meant less, and we would carry no compass inside ourselves to find home ever, anywhere at all. We would not even guess what we had missed.”


I am grateful for my growing up place, within a family helping me understand people will always be more important than place. Odd, because that family of origin mostly stayed in one place: rural and small town East Texas. Important, because after I left home at 17 for college, so many places would take their turns in becoming the place of home. One brief passage of time the leaving and the return intersected to be called home. I do believe we make our homes where we are, but there are times when we have a more intimate connection with the place of home. My favorite place happened to be at that intersection,one which my family occupied for only slightly more than a year. But I still have pictures of it hanging on my wall and a doll house replica that my grandchildren love. I think each of us would vote it our favorite house.


When my sons were 13, 10, and 8, we bought a 100 year old Victorian house on 3 acres of oaks and magnolias and pecan trees in East Texas. It was in the hometown where both my husband and I grew up, so both his mother and my parents still lived there at that time. There had been some renovation to the house in the 1940's, but not much since, so there was much that was necessary to live there safely and comfortably. We restored, repaired, renovated, and resuscitated in ways we never knew we had any skill for. We stripped the staircases to find tiger oak, pulled up carpet to find lovely wood floors, added wood burning heaters, updated plumbing and electricity and found ways that old houses need you that amazed us. It was a wonderful adventure.

During the time we were there, I did the research and writing necessary to acquire state historical landmark designation for the house, which was built for John Wesley Love in 1904, to house his wife and 13 children. He had 700 acres of peach orchards adjacent to the house, which was built near the railroad tracks. We discovered that my father and uncle had picked peaches in the orchards, and that Joe's Daddy had painted and wallpapered there in the 40's. It has been 26 years since we lived there, but I can still feel the sway of the porch swing and smell the fragrance of the wisteria dripping from the trees. It was work to live there, but it was magic.

The planned changes in my husband's job did not happen, and we knew our boys needed a father at home more than they needed a certain house, but oh, we loved it. Since we went back there for visits to relatives, we went by the house every time, and I cried every time for years!

Strangely, it took another turn of events in our family life for me to honestly say goodbye to it. Over 15 years after we left it, with the house having gone through several owners, it was very expensively refurbished and opened as a venue for receptions and weddings and other events. When my son and his fiancée planned their small wedding, we arranged to have it there. The bride’s dressing room was Sean's old bedroom! The gathering room for guests was our master bedroom. The ceremony was held in front of the fireplace in the parlor where we had celebrated my parents' 50th wedding anniversary in 1982. The wedding was wonderful; the house was grand in her new finery. She didn't need me anymore, and I felt a closure I had been unable to achieve before. Neither Joe nor I have any living relatives there anymore, but I still say hello to the house when go back to our hometown. I can almost see the 3rd story cupola window wink back at me.

I am glad that although a sign now marks it as commercial offices, that place speaks home to me. I am even more glad that after many years and many moves, I am rooted (not root bound) in my present place. I love being at home.

Frozen

It is not about the movie!

 Nora and Ben made the best of our recent icy weather with a table for sand and water that she calls her water table. They filled it and she chose a variety of small toys and objects to put in the water. As the temperature fell, they would wrap up and go to check what the water was doing. When all they found was a solid block of ice, they brought it inside, set it on a plastic tablecloth in the middle of the floor, and held it up for a good look.  She was intrigued to find all the small treasures she put in captured in the ice. When we looked at the photos, we delighted in all the tiny Noras that can be seen in the ice bubbles!

Milestones

Today, January 13, 2018, is a milestone birthday for our oldest son, a milestone for me too, that of the birth of my first child. I remember so well that cold morning in San Antonio when I was wakened in the early morning hours to realize this baby was on the way 2 weeks earlier than expected.

 It is strange to me to consider the moments that stand out clearly - the way we closed the front door at 5139 Happiness Lane and stopped on the porch long enough for Joe to take a picture of me, grinning  and wearing an ill fitting gray coat I had sewn for myself that winter. The front of the coat would no longer button.  I remember the lining - jewel toned paisley, and the buttons - embossed antique silver. But I do not remember the drive, or what we said to each other although I can imagine our excited conversation. I do not remember going up to the 23rd floor of the Nix Hospital on the Riverwalk in San Antonio. After I was checked into a room, I was given Demerol and Scopolamine, a common practice in those days. So even though I had expressed a desire to be awake and aware for birthing, I remember nothing of the special moments mid afternoon when I gave birth. I do remember Joe telling me that we had a beautiful baby boy. Unlike today, when most couples know gender early,  he announced that when he arrived. I remember the view from the end of the hall when I was allowed to walk there in the next days.  The window looked out on the construction site of the World's Fair held in San Antonio beginning April 6 that year.

I remember the pride and joy we shared the day we brought our tiny baby boy home. And I remember the small nursery across from our bedroom. We bought a used crib and painted it creamy white.  The only new furniture was a rocking chair my parents bought. It came unpainted; we painted it to match the crib. I made sheer yellow curtains and we hung a musical mobil over the crib which had a red rabbit among other animals.  Sean loved that red rabbit!

Today, he is a fine man with a gray beard!  He is a loving husband and father, brother and uncle. Little did I know pride and joy would multiply through the years, but they have. He is a man of integrity and honor and has weathered life storms with dignity.  He works hard, reads, speaks Norwegian, and is a fine cook and gardener.  Last night we gathered for a family meal and a loud Happy Birthday song from all of us. Happy Birthday, Sean!

Christmas 2017

These are a few of the photos we have captured to help us remember Christmas 2017. We have gathered as family and with church family, telling the story with music and lights and books and candles. We have laughed and wept and loved each other, thankful for another Advent and Christmastide!

First Baptist Church Richmond, Christmas Eve 2017

While visions of sugarplums dance in her head...

Nora, keeping warm./

Skye and Nora, Granmary, and Kristen went to the Nutcracker .

Our very own Chritmas Fairy

Dr. Pepper Bread

An honest to goodness Orange Marmalade Cake!

Oliver loves Papa Joe

Snow, December 8, 2017  FBC Richmond

Sean and Teion, Lauren and Skye

Jeremy and Michala, Maddie and Jordann

Ben and Kristen, Nora and Oliver

Nora helping celebrate our 54th anniversary at the Swinging Door.

Shady Oak Nativity blocks

 Christmas Tea Tree

 Woodland Bird Tree

Cookie Cutter Tree

Bare Branch Tree

Family Tree

Snow Day!

We rarely have snowflakes falling at our house, but a few days ago, we had alot of them!  Big fluffy flakes began falling about 10:00 pm on Thursday night, followed by amazing flurries blowing around the outside lights. Nora and Oliver's first snow - terrifically exciting and wondrous for Nora, and simply a little puzzling and cold for Oliver, although he laughed as well. What a joy to see that wonder in Nora's eyes!  After young and old alike were in bed for the night, it continued to snow so that by 3:00 a.m. our lawn and landscape were covered when I peeked out to look - magical anytime when you see it so seldom, but especially so in moonlight! By the time I got up and pulled on my robe the next morning, little ones and parents were out making angels and a snowman while they could. We knew the melt would begin as the sun warmed the day. Nora did not know that, even though it had been explained. She was very sad to see the snow go. I am thankful for this special gift for us at Christmastime. This year we don't have to say the only snow we got was on Christmas cards!

November Celebrations

November is a month of celebrations for our family. This year we added a few. Michala's birthday, my 77th birthday, Skye's 15th birthday, a successful surgery for her, all led up to a busy Thanksgiving. We had a bountiful spread of food and 17 of us spread around 2 tables.

Thanksgiving 2017

Before all the dishes were washed and put away, Ben began pulling out Christmas decorations and trees from the storage closet!  Trees were up but not yet decorated by the Sunday after Thanksgiving which held 2 big events for Olive- his baby dedication at First Baptist Church in Richmond (a whole pew of relatives) and his first birthday!  More people arrived to celebrate with pizza and birthday cake. 

Nora and Oliver all dressed up for church.

Joe and I are in a group that meets for dinner and poetry readings and the meeting on November 28 was at our house. By that evening, we had decorated 6 trees, wreathed all the doors, and placed our many nativity scenes. Nora helped with everything and Oliver is old enough this year for his blue eyes to shine with wonder at all the lights and color.  So we end November and begin Advent and the approach to Christmas, thankful for family and celebrations.

Birthday Rose

This week I celebrated my 77th birthday with a variety of celebrations, greetings, phone visits, hugs and meals. On the morning of November 14, Joe brought me this rose. I am thankful that at almost 54 years of marriage, he knows I love a flower cut from our garden best of all and that he will go out and find one to bring to me in a perfect little vase. He gave me a new Kindle for my books and music, and  Ben made me a strawberry smoothie. He and Kristen knew I would love the new Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds book. Hugs and Happy Birthdays from Nora added to my morning. We all made a trip to Costco for family groceries and lunched at P.F. Chang's in Sugar Land. All day the phone rang with happy greetings from my family, including all 4 of those in Nevada. In the evening, Joe and I joined our poetry group from church at a friend's home for dinner and poetry reading. Desert was a cherry birthday cake with candles and our friends' rendition of the birthday song.

That did not end the celebrations. Today, we all gathered with Sean, Teion, Lauren, Skye, and Kasey at a fusion restaurant in Sugarland Town Square called Jupiter's. Waffles, fried chicken, pizza, and sweet potato waffle fries filled the table!  More gifts, including a sweet nativity Christmas ornament, and a picture taking session by the giant Christmas tree in Town Square completed the morning.

I am savoring all the sweetness - not the kind found in the food. I am grateful for my family, and grateful for each day given to me to love them.

Cousin Connection

"Skye" was one of Nora's first words, something Skye mentions often. As they grow and change, I hope the pleasure they express now will remain. When I was a busy young mother raising three little boys, I had no idea that their daughters would have such fun together.  I am glad these girls get to enjoy their cousin connection often.

No Tricks, Just Treats!

As October days count down to the end of the month, Jack-O-Lanterns dot our house and yard and costumes get tried on. Oliver and Nora practice trick or treating, we fill the treat baskets, and get ready to greet our October 31 visitors. Ben made a spider web for the front door complete with its resident spider. He and Kristen will help Nora carve one of our pumpkins this weekend.

Joe and I have always had fun counting the number of kids who come to call, keeping a tally like a domino score. Some years there have been many, some years only a few, but we enjoy acting surprised and trying to figure out who is under the masks.  When our boys were growing up, their costumes were always homemade.  Through those years, costume projects included lions, tigers, and bears (oh my!) as well as bats, wizards, and vampires. The ones remembered most fondly are R2D2 made from a meat smoker with silver paint and blue tape, a furry Chewbacca, and Hans Solo. The crocodile from Peter Pan was Sean's request and a challenge for any seamstress.  This year, Nora is deciding whether she will be a Troll, a Fireman, or a Princess, and Oliver has already been wearing his Tyrannosaurus hoodie. But he may choose the lion hoodie at the last minute.

The dressup trunk has long been a favorite for the grandchildren year round, but there is a bit of magic in the evening when other people are in costume, knocking on doors, collecting treats. I will put on my jack-o-lantern earrings and be ready!

Birthday Greeting

We are celebrating Jeremy's birthday tomorrow - long distance. They now live in Nevada, too far to join him for a hug and birthday dinner. But celebrate we will, with a phone call or Skype!  He is faithful to call and I love the phone visits.

 I am glad you have the chance to travel and ski and climb mountains and work as a pilot. You followed an early call; from the time you were three years old that is what you wanted. I am proud of your integrity, your dedication to your family, your good parenting,  your determination and sense of adventure!  Happy Birthday, Son.  I love you! 

Grandchildren

At the beginning of each day, and before the close of the day (plus some in betweens), I pray for our sons and their families. As I consider each grandchild by name, I realize the amazing gift I have been given in being called Granmary. I could not possibly capture enough photos to portray the images of relationship and connectedness, the giving and giving back. I have a deep sense of those who have gone before me, and held my hand, the hand that now holds the hands of these 6, smiling as I think of their hands holding their own children and grandchildren. I am grateful beyond words.

 Grandchildren

To have grandchildren is not only to be given something but to be given something back.

You are given back something of your children's childhood all those years ago. You are given back something of what it was like to be a young parent. You are given back something of your own childhood even, as on creaking knees you get down on the floor to play tiddlywinks, or sing about Old MacDonald and his farm, or watch Saturday morning cartoons till you're cross-eyed.

It is not only your own genes that are part of your grandchildren but the genes of all sorts of people they never knew but who, through them, will play some part in times and places they never dreamed of. And of course along with your genes, they will also carry their memories of you into those times and places too the afternoon you lay in the hammock with them watching the breezes blow, the face you made when one of them stuck out a tongue dyed Popsicle blue at you, the time you got a splinter out for one of them with the tweezers of your Swiss army knife. On some distant day they will hold grandchildren of their own with the same hands you once held them by as you searched the beach at low tide for Spanish gold.

In the meantime, they are the freshest and fairest you have. After you're gone, it is mainly because of them that the earth will not be as if you never walked on it.

~originally published in Beyond Words

Daddy and Son

I love this silhouette of our son and his son. Ben and Oliver. Since all our other grandchildren are girls, I have written many times about Daddy and Daughter. The photographs are always so precious. What a dear privilege it is for me to see our sons cherishing and parenting their daughters, but Ben and Oliver have now and will always have a unique relationship, man to man!  I watched with gratitude as Joe and our own sons enjoyed each other, and am thrilled how much each adult son thrives in loving and caring for their Dad. Enjoy your journey, Oliver. You have amazing footprints to follow. You are loved well and always.

Ky Terrell

Ky and Clyde Terrell, circa early 1950's

I recently saw a FaceBook post referring to the son of my friend Barbara Nichols. We called her Bobbie, a college friend who got her degree in nursing at the same time I did. She married, as I did, before we graduated. But she was pregnant during our senior year with their first child, a son they decided to name after my own matrnal grandfather. She heard me talk about Papa Terrell's name, shortened for understandable reasons. I believe he was named for my great grandmother's father, Hezekiah Wilson. It is easy to think how a tiny baby boy born in 1885 and named Hezekiah Peyton Terrell would come to be called "Ky" for the rest of his life!  When I noticed the post about Ky Nichols, I thought of my grandfather as I often do and realized I have never written a post that was just about him. I loved him dearly and knew that feeling was mutual.

My mother often told stories of how proud he was when I was born, his first grandchild. The earliest stories included ones of his getting down on the floor and letting me ride him like a horse even though he had been "laid up" with a bad back before we came. He was toothless and loved the angel food cake and divinity without nuts Grandma made for him. He was an avid baseball fan, leaning over his small radio to listen to the games.I remember his laugh, hearty and loud, and his cheerful spirit in spite of heartbreak and hardships like loosing his oldest son at age 13 to a hunting accident, making do during the depression, failing health including a stroke, and suffering along with his other sons during mental health crises. He was a farmer and at one time owned a small general store with his son Travis. My memory does not include his owning a car. He thumbed a ride at the bottom of the hill they lived on near Bullard to go to town for Grandma's small list of supplies. 

When he died in 1965, Joe and I were in Oregon. Before computers and cell phones, a long distance call in which Mother told me caused me to weep for not being able to say goodbye to him, for not being there for my grandmother and mother, and for knowing I could not make it to the funeral. We were preparing to move back to Texas within a week. Plane tickets were too expensive to consider. The trip from Corvallis, Oregon to Texas would take days. When we did get there, I remember Mother and Grandma were in the kitchen of the house where I grew up on Sunset Avenue in Jacksonville. And I remember that as I embraced my grandmother and sobbed, she was the one who comforted me.