Category Archives: Sadness

Softly Call the Muster

To my brother Draco,

My heart grieves as it grips with your final goodbye. You were more than just a brother-in-law. You were a big brother, a buddy, and a friend. No matter what, you always knew you could come to me with anything, and often did. There were times when you made me pull my hair out in exasperation, but there were also times when you helped me in my troubles.

Just like a brother would.

I find myself listening to your voicemails, reading your texts and your messages. Hearing your voice again makes me smile, remembering the private jokes and the camaraderie we shared. This past year was not easy for you, but you made the best of it while you were here with us. We got to have you in our lives for eight months, and that in itself was a blessing from God. We still have the paracord bracelets you made, and the martini glasses you “acquired” for us, the beers you left behind, and the bottle of vodka you bought as a “thank you”. That bottle remains unopened on the shelf, waiting for the day when we can gather to celebrate you, Rottie style.


Yes the heart grieves, but it also remembers, and that will be the balm to comfort us. Rangers do lead the way, and you have never failed to do so. You lived more in your 48 years than most people do in two lifetimes. I pray you are at peace, and hope that in slipping the surly bonds that tethered you, you are now free. God bless and keep you, hermano. I am still, and know that you are with us.

In Sadness, Joy

Yesterday was a very long day. We buckled down and cleaned and organized the garage, which meant clearing out trash, donating the useful stuff, putting up shelving, unpacking boxes, and finding long lost memories.

Like baby shoes, and photographs, and cigar butts, and school mementos, pressed flowers, and even old love letters from Hubby-before-he-was-Hubby. There were wood blocks, and old tiaras, and some old children’s books. But among all the papers and photos, there was one item that brought me to tears: my grandmother’s last letter to me.

I stood in the kitchen, reading the once-elegant and now spidery writing, thinking of the woman who wrote it. She was a very proper woman, who never went outside without a parasol to protect her from the Sun. She taught me to read and write before I started school. She loved to have us entertain her with songs. She loved red flowers, and always had cafe au lait at 3 o’clock.


I stood in the kitchen, reading her last words to me, and thinking about how much it hurt her to lose her independence those last few months of her life. She could have been bitter, but instead chose to be thankful for the small acts of kindness shown to her, and for her correspondences with her grandchildren. Knowing how we had blossomed and how we had our own families made her very happy. She told me it would be her last letter to me, since she could no longer hold a pen. As I read that my heart broke again, knowing how much she enjoyed to write. She passed away a couple of months after that, when I was pregnant with Little One. Oddly enough, Little One has the same love of writing that my grandmother had, along with her disposition! She would have been 110 years old last April 27th.

Time to plant geraniums in the garden, and enjoy the day 🙂

Another Tragedy

This week is unending.

Police say between 5 and 15 people killed in Texas fertilizer plant explosion, more than 160 hurt

More here.

There are eyewitness reports of using water to quell the flames and if true, that could have triggered the massive explosion. But one thing that stands out regardless of it being Boston or West: the generosity and willingness to help people in need.

And that is something no one can ever break, or take away.

Sending prayers on angel’s wings.