I'm in a sentimental mood. Here's why:
Lately I've been focusing on getting closets/drawers/bedrooms organized. I want to have our house in order before school starts in August. I've discovered some wonderful items (even Craig's Scheel's gift card that was lost long ago) and have been puttering around, willing myself to find a place for things.
Yesterday I started the long dreaded task of cleaning Murray's closet. The majority of the contents include our Mom's files and memories that we tossed into a Rubber Maid tub when we cleaned out her house, to be dealt with when we felt a bit better. I didn't know that three years later, I would still feel the same raw grief that I felt when she got sick, the morning she died, and the months after.
Despite my sadness, I've had a lot of smiles and laughter. Our Mom saved things that only a mother knows would be important someday. My journals from high school (oh the shame), Maggie's ridiculous drawings, other items that Mom must have know that we would appreciate. I'm catching a glimpse of the quiet, gentle and committed woman that she was. I found two of her four badges (my sister has the others) and I had to sit still and cry for a while. That's the catch 22 of memories: the good ones never fade, but the bad ones don't either.
So, while reminiscing in my shared childhood and adulthood with my sister, my Mom's motherhood, and life in general, I can say that it's been a good experience. Healthy, cathartic. It's not easy, but I'm determined to finish the project - Mom always said, "Do things well and completely" - and so I will.
But maybe tomorrow. And with my sister.
MM
A Taboo Topic (But Not Anymore!)
I'm pro-life.
I have always believed so. I didn't know how much I've believed until recently.
Have you ever had the experience that you are on the outside looking in? Or have you ever just realized something different from what you thought after it happened to you? How has it affected you? What did you do (or would have done) differently?
The reason for my questions is what my good friend, Roxane has inspired me to ask. Peace Garden Mama (a.k.a Roxane) puts abortion into a perspective that I am incapable of writing. I thank you, Roxane, for allowing me to re-post your writing. The words that follow are not my own, but they are poignant and true.
I see hope; the tenacity of a fragile stem ignoring what should be possible, pushing toward light despite the hostile environment it is bound to enter.
This photograph speaks to me in a particularly vivid way right now, especially concerning a recent calling of the heart. Despite my intentions, I've been finding myself lately on the sidewalk in front of North Dakota's only abortion facility. Yes, moi, the gal who always thought her pro-life convictions would be best shared in a "safe" place. Through the written word, for example, or a radio interview, but certainly not as an active sidewalk-counselor-in-training.
About a month ago, I interviewed on our local Catholic radio station the woman -- Elizabeth McClung -- who helped effect the conversion of former Planned Parenthood director Abby Johnson to the side of life. When I listened to the podcast of that interview a few weeks later, I was jarred to hear myself telling Elizabeth that praying for life publicly "isn't for everyone." I was speaking about myself.
But then Abby came to Fargo and I had a chance to hear her story in person, both from her mouth and through her bestselling book, Unplanned. When I realized Elizabeth's prayers and the flowers and card she had offered Abby two years before her conversion had made a difference, despite many days, weeks and months of it all seeming futile, things changed inside of me. When Abby challenged us to not forget about what she'd shared, and insisted the women seeking abortions needed to hear our voices, I could no longer ignore the still, small voice within me.
Then again I might have, if not for my 13-year-old daughter, who'd also met Abby.
"Mom, can we stand out on the sidewalk again this Wednesday?" she asked a few days before "abortion day," the week following our meeting with Abby. It nearly took my breath away to hear her request, but I recognized the opportunity at once and knew I could not diminish it.
"Sure, let's do that," I said, not quite believing what was happening. Her young voice was rising above the din of my doubts, giving me courage to shoo away my timidity.
"No offense, Mom," she added, "but maybe, because I'm younger and all, I might make more of an impact."
"You know, you could be right about that," I said, not able to deny wisdom as it stared me in the face.
Indeed, her presence could well make a difference. It already had. The week before, as we stood there with the others praying in the rain, a car full of hecklers driving past yelled obscenities at us from our sidewalk perch.
"What was that?" she asked, turning to me. Then, in an impeccably timed moment, she added, "Oh, they must just be jealous of my good hair day."
It's exactly what I needed to decrease the tension and sadness I felt watching one woman after another walk into the facility, knowing she would come out a changed person, and not for the better. As one bumper sticker I read recently says: "Abortion: one life lost, another wounded."
This week I returned without my daughter, who was out of town, and though I'm still a sidewalk newbie, I'm starting to get the hang of it. I know where I can and can't stand ("Don't touch the green carpet!"). I've gotten to know some of the names of the abortion facility escorts; some of whom are very aggressive toward those who've come to pray, others who are quieter, perhaps new like me, just trying to figure things out.
And I've discovered that I'm not content to only pray, though prayer is certainly one of the most valuable things I can do. I've reached out to several of the escorts in an attempt to get to know them. One of them was very receptive this week. I know that everyone, no matter what side of the sidewalk they're on, truly believes they are helping women. But I also know that it can't be the case that taking life is ever a positive, and that I have entered the front lines of a war zone. Lives of the mothers, the babies, and all those who love them are at stake.
I can't completely explain what has compelled me to take up a post on this sidewalk of all the sidewalks in North Dakota, but I definitely feel it as a strong stirring, an urgent call to action, though certainly not one I would have willingly chosen.
Perhaps God has had this in mind for me for a long time, but I've only recently become ready. I'm beginning to think that might be the case. Regardless, I'm becoming bolder. I want to meet the workers of the facility and somehow, in whatever way I can, give them the same sense of hope I've experienced while looking upon a weed that refuses to give up on light
Thank you, Roxane, for touching on a sensitive topic. So many people are unable or unwilling to discuss abortion. I can't preach that I'm an expert. I know I haven't done enough to stop this. But now I can be pro-active. I'm joining my courageous and diligent friend, Roxane on Wednesday on the sidewalk.
Prayers to unborn babies and to the women and men who are confused. There are always options.
If you'd like to see the original post, go to http://www.peacegardenmama.com/
I have always believed so. I didn't know how much I've believed until recently.
Have you ever had the experience that you are on the outside looking in? Or have you ever just realized something different from what you thought after it happened to you? How has it affected you? What did you do (or would have done) differently?
The reason for my questions is what my good friend, Roxane has inspired me to ask. Peace Garden Mama (a.k.a Roxane) puts abortion into a perspective that I am incapable of writing. I thank you, Roxane, for allowing me to re-post your writing. The words that follow are not my own, but they are poignant and true.
I see hope; the tenacity of a fragile stem ignoring what should be possible, pushing toward light despite the hostile environment it is bound to enter.
This photograph speaks to me in a particularly vivid way right now, especially concerning a recent calling of the heart. Despite my intentions, I've been finding myself lately on the sidewalk in front of North Dakota's only abortion facility. Yes, moi, the gal who always thought her pro-life convictions would be best shared in a "safe" place. Through the written word, for example, or a radio interview, but certainly not as an active sidewalk-counselor-in-training.
About a month ago, I interviewed on our local Catholic radio station the woman -- Elizabeth McClung -- who helped effect the conversion of former Planned Parenthood director Abby Johnson to the side of life. When I listened to the podcast of that interview a few weeks later, I was jarred to hear myself telling Elizabeth that praying for life publicly "isn't for everyone." I was speaking about myself.
But then Abby came to Fargo and I had a chance to hear her story in person, both from her mouth and through her bestselling book, Unplanned. When I realized Elizabeth's prayers and the flowers and card she had offered Abby two years before her conversion had made a difference, despite many days, weeks and months of it all seeming futile, things changed inside of me. When Abby challenged us to not forget about what she'd shared, and insisted the women seeking abortions needed to hear our voices, I could no longer ignore the still, small voice within me.
Then again I might have, if not for my 13-year-old daughter, who'd also met Abby.
"Mom, can we stand out on the sidewalk again this Wednesday?" she asked a few days before "abortion day," the week following our meeting with Abby. It nearly took my breath away to hear her request, but I recognized the opportunity at once and knew I could not diminish it.
"Sure, let's do that," I said, not quite believing what was happening. Her young voice was rising above the din of my doubts, giving me courage to shoo away my timidity.
"No offense, Mom," she added, "but maybe, because I'm younger and all, I might make more of an impact."
"You know, you could be right about that," I said, not able to deny wisdom as it stared me in the face.
Indeed, her presence could well make a difference. It already had. The week before, as we stood there with the others praying in the rain, a car full of hecklers driving past yelled obscenities at us from our sidewalk perch.
"What was that?" she asked, turning to me. Then, in an impeccably timed moment, she added, "Oh, they must just be jealous of my good hair day."
It's exactly what I needed to decrease the tension and sadness I felt watching one woman after another walk into the facility, knowing she would come out a changed person, and not for the better. As one bumper sticker I read recently says: "Abortion: one life lost, another wounded."
This week I returned without my daughter, who was out of town, and though I'm still a sidewalk newbie, I'm starting to get the hang of it. I know where I can and can't stand ("Don't touch the green carpet!"). I've gotten to know some of the names of the abortion facility escorts; some of whom are very aggressive toward those who've come to pray, others who are quieter, perhaps new like me, just trying to figure things out.
And I've discovered that I'm not content to only pray, though prayer is certainly one of the most valuable things I can do. I've reached out to several of the escorts in an attempt to get to know them. One of them was very receptive this week. I know that everyone, no matter what side of the sidewalk they're on, truly believes they are helping women. But I also know that it can't be the case that taking life is ever a positive, and that I have entered the front lines of a war zone. Lives of the mothers, the babies, and all those who love them are at stake.
I can't completely explain what has compelled me to take up a post on this sidewalk of all the sidewalks in North Dakota, but I definitely feel it as a strong stirring, an urgent call to action, though certainly not one I would have willingly chosen.
Perhaps God has had this in mind for me for a long time, but I've only recently become ready. I'm beginning to think that might be the case. Regardless, I'm becoming bolder. I want to meet the workers of the facility and somehow, in whatever way I can, give them the same sense of hope I've experienced while looking upon a weed that refuses to give up on light
Thank you, Roxane, for touching on a sensitive topic. So many people are unable or unwilling to discuss abortion. I can't preach that I'm an expert. I know I haven't done enough to stop this. But now I can be pro-active. I'm joining my courageous and diligent friend, Roxane on Wednesday on the sidewalk.
Prayers to unborn babies and to the women and men who are confused. There are always options.
If you'd like to see the original post, go to http://www.peacegardenmama.com/
New Blog
Check out this hiliarous post from one of my new favorite blogs "The Mouthy Housewives". Thanks, Mama Kat, for introducing me!
-Murray's Momma
-Murray's Momma
Dear Nook People
Dear Barnes and Noble People From Whatever Country I Just Called,
Thank you for keeping me on hold for twenty minutes. I was able to get a lot of work done while I waited for you to answer.
I also appreciate the politeness of the customer service representative that I spoke with although I think I could have understood sign language over the phone better than I could understand what you were trying to say to me (but you probably feel the same way, so it's not really your fault).
What I don't understand is that you continually put me on hold (yes, three times, check the records) to ask the "expert of consumer management" while I patiently wait for my problem to be solved. I also don't understand that when I asked for a tracking number after the first two times of being on hold, you told me that the "expert of consumer management" declared that a confirmation number wasn't necessary, and that if my product wasn't delivered in 2-3 more days that I should call you back; again.
There are worse problems in the world than my accesorries being shipped on time. So I hope that all of you in Minot and the surrounding communities are safe, and know that you are in my prayers. God bless you.
Before I sign off for today, I have to give DH credit; after working on the yard (the only 2 times he's been home this week), he's had to cancel twice in the middle of a project to make sure that the baby birds are okay. He's had mama birds dive him twice and been yelled at a lot. Bird mamas are just like human mamas. I would do the same. The baby birds are safe, and it's number 1,543,600 of the reasons that I love this man.
Thank you for keeping me on hold for twenty minutes. I was able to get a lot of work done while I waited for you to answer.
I also appreciate the politeness of the customer service representative that I spoke with although I think I could have understood sign language over the phone better than I could understand what you were trying to say to me (but you probably feel the same way, so it's not really your fault).
What I don't understand is that you continually put me on hold (yes, three times, check the records) to ask the "expert of consumer management" while I patiently wait for my problem to be solved. I also don't understand that when I asked for a tracking number after the first two times of being on hold, you told me that the "expert of consumer management" declared that a confirmation number wasn't necessary, and that if my product wasn't delivered in 2-3 more days that I should call you back; again.
There are worse problems in the world than my accesorries being shipped on time. So I hope that all of you in Minot and the surrounding communities are safe, and know that you are in my prayers. God bless you.
Before I sign off for today, I have to give DH credit; after working on the yard (the only 2 times he's been home this week), he's had to cancel twice in the middle of a project to make sure that the baby birds are okay. He's had mama birds dive him twice and been yelled at a lot. Bird mamas are just like human mamas. I would do the same. The baby birds are safe, and it's number 1,543,600 of the reasons that I love this man.
Happy Husband's Day!
Yesterday I took Murray shopping, explaining to him that Father's Day is on Sunday and that we were going to buy Daddy a gift and a card. It was to be a surprise, and he was sworn to secrecy.
What was I thinking?
Shopping mission accomplished, Craig returned from meetings and Murray excitedly said, "Dad, we got you a present for Husband's Day!" We both cracked up and finally, a wounded Murray looked at us and sadly asked, "What's so funny? Stop laughing!". When we could breathe again, I asked Murray who his Daddy was to me. "He's Craig, Mama", he replied.
Oh dear.
A ten minute conversation ensued while Craig and I attempted to discuss the dynamics that are a family, which led to a lot of "why's" and ended with "only mamas and daddies can kiss on the lips, you know."
I think we'll leave the rest of the birds and the bees talk for a much later date. We can only hope we satisfied his curiosity, at least, until he's 25.
Happy Husband's Day!
What was I thinking?
Shopping mission accomplished, Craig returned from meetings and Murray excitedly said, "Dad, we got you a present for Husband's Day!" We both cracked up and finally, a wounded Murray looked at us and sadly asked, "What's so funny? Stop laughing!". When we could breathe again, I asked Murray who his Daddy was to me. "He's Craig, Mama", he replied.
Oh dear.
A ten minute conversation ensued while Craig and I attempted to discuss the dynamics that are a family, which led to a lot of "why's" and ended with "only mamas and daddies can kiss on the lips, you know."
I think we'll leave the rest of the birds and the bees talk for a much later date. We can only hope we satisfied his curiosity, at least, until he's 25.
Happy Husband's Day!
A Mid-Summer's Update
It's hard to believe it's the middle of June. It's been a very busy summer! Here's the latest in the "Murray's Momma" household.
Sadly, we decided to find a new home for Kirby, our 5-year-old cat. My allergies were worse than ever this spring, and unfortunately, Kirby's dander was a contributing factor. A wonderful graduate student adopted him, and she takes extremely good care of him. She even takes him on walks. I know he's getting the attention and love he deserves.
We still have both dogs, who thankfully, don't irritate my allergies. Let's hope it stays that way.
As much as we love relax at the lake on weekends, we haven't had as many lake days as we'd like this year. A lot of this is due to the imminent state government shut down. Craig has been busy with emergency meetings and phone calls. Yesterday, we found out that Minnesota State Colleges and Universities (MNSCU) will allow the colleges to use money that's in reserve in order to stay open. This is of great relief not only for our family, but thousands of MNSCU employees across the state. For the sake of the state, we are praying that Governor Dayton and the legislature will put politics aside and come to an agreement that is best for all.
Murray is growing and growing and talking and talking, and TALKING! He's such a chatterbox that the only quiet time around our house is when he's asleep (and sometimes even in deep REM he's still yapping). His latest favorite phrases include: "Oh Yeah, oh yeah!", the words "and also" and "why?" Sometimes, our conversations go like this:
Murray: Mama, I LOVE you.
Me: I love you too, Murray.
Murray: Do you? Oh, of course you do.
(this always cracks me up)
Or, there's this:
Me: Murray, please brush your teeth, we're almost ready to go.
Murray: Mama, the dentist said I have to brush my teeth 2 times, you know?
(I love it when he adds the "you know" at the end, although I'm sure someday, I'll regret it)
So while this sounds like a Christmas letter, I guess it's more of a mid-year update. I will post again soon; next time, with pictures and hopefully, a stimulating conversation starter. Stay safe and dry this weekend. Until next time...TTFN.
Sadly, we decided to find a new home for Kirby, our 5-year-old cat. My allergies were worse than ever this spring, and unfortunately, Kirby's dander was a contributing factor. A wonderful graduate student adopted him, and she takes extremely good care of him. She even takes him on walks. I know he's getting the attention and love he deserves.
We still have both dogs, who thankfully, don't irritate my allergies. Let's hope it stays that way.
As much as we love relax at the lake on weekends, we haven't had as many lake days as we'd like this year. A lot of this is due to the imminent state government shut down. Craig has been busy with emergency meetings and phone calls. Yesterday, we found out that Minnesota State Colleges and Universities (MNSCU) will allow the colleges to use money that's in reserve in order to stay open. This is of great relief not only for our family, but thousands of MNSCU employees across the state. For the sake of the state, we are praying that Governor Dayton and the legislature will put politics aside and come to an agreement that is best for all.
Murray is growing and growing and talking and talking, and TALKING! He's such a chatterbox that the only quiet time around our house is when he's asleep (and sometimes even in deep REM he's still yapping). His latest favorite phrases include: "Oh Yeah, oh yeah!", the words "and also" and "why?" Sometimes, our conversations go like this:
Murray: Mama, I LOVE you.
Me: I love you too, Murray.
Murray: Do you? Oh, of course you do.
(this always cracks me up)
Or, there's this:
Me: Murray, please brush your teeth, we're almost ready to go.
Murray: Mama, the dentist said I have to brush my teeth 2 times, you know?
(I love it when he adds the "you know" at the end, although I'm sure someday, I'll regret it)
So while this sounds like a Christmas letter, I guess it's more of a mid-year update. I will post again soon; next time, with pictures and hopefully, a stimulating conversation starter. Stay safe and dry this weekend. Until next time...TTFN.
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