Well Kenny and I sat for a few moments and gathered our thoughts and put together somewhat of an outline so we can get back on track with the story and began working backward, or none of this will make any sense. As I looked through those pictures and all those memories, memories I had blocked, because, like I had spoken in an earlier post, I think our body goes into a protective mode that only allows us to receive what we can handle at that the moment without your mind going so far you don't return. I think that can be true of bad memories, but also of good ones as well. I think you can grieve the good times, the good things you have lost, and you really must guard yourself from living in a time warp, in a sense a mindset where you never really move on, but you NEVER want to forget those memories. They make up where you came from and who you are today. They also make up who your children are, these trials don't define who we are, memories do, time spent together, the boys stepping up and protecting me because Kenny wasn't here, us pulling together and ripping up carpet, painting and making an unlivable house a home, Emma buying groceries and paying the kids fees at school, those are the things that define us, that define our family, the things I don't ever want to forget. As America faces financial crisis and more and more families are faced with the same issues we have just been through I hope I can be of some encouragement. That it is not easy, there are no easy answers, and there are many nights of anger, I have to be honest and admit it and so will you, but if you put your energies and your "WHY IN THE HECK DIDN'T THIS THING PASS ME OVER!!!!", into an unfamiliar and rock hard kinda attitude, the kind that looks at the world through the eyes of a nine year old, eyes which don't see money, and $140.00 Nikes, and $800.00 game systems, nearly as clearly as they see Mom and Dad sitting and wathching them, hearing them laugh, smiling at their aweful knock-knock jokes, then you will find Hope. It is such an odd thing, the children never speak harshly, or bitter, when they speak of Tallahassee, or Kenny or our old business, or our old life and what they have lost. I guess it is we adults who could take some lessons from the kids. They just make fun, THEY JUST MAKE FUN where ever they are! Reminds me of a story when the boys were about maybe 6 and 3, I had layed down for a moment and they had emptied an entire case of Desanti bottled water down the hall and were butt naked running and sliding down our tongue-n-groove 1x6 wood floor hallway. The odd thing about memories is they seldom are seen looking back as they were as they happened. Kenny and I often talk about how the most cherished memories we have are the ones, which at the time they happened, were the most terrible and gut-wrenching. Memories of loss, yes they can be painful, but they bring much joy and pleasure after they are seasoned with a little time. We are "doers" in our age, it is what we have been born for, what we have been, rigoressly, trained for, however, could it be, that we have missed the "being" part of ourselves? What if the most valued and sacred time we spent was every evening at the dinner table, or on the old backyard cushion just watching the lives of our children unfold, or helping an old man who is weak and poor and disoriented enjoy a dollar McDouble, while he hears the laughter of our little ones sitting about us. We do not make our children the center of our world, first there is God, the best we know how, then there is Kenny and me, and, then, it is the children, but what they are, who they are, what they become, is not decided by their collection of things, but by their collection of "memories". They will say, "Mom tell the story of me and Wyatt sliding in the water." They are either far wiser than we, or far simpler, yet, whatever it is, we need to learn from them! With that said, there are some memories, that, I will assure you, there are no positive attachments, or lessons, I feel I can take from, maybe someday I will see them!
