just another Sunday

 

I am a very religious person, or believe I am, and so on Sundays I go to church. I rather enjoy it even if there are days I wonder why I bother since I tend to my children the whole time.  Today was nice though. I still tended to my children but I still heard the speakers.  What was really nice though was what happened while I tended to my children. One person took the youngest for me. She was glad to go. Others made sure to acknowledge my son. Several different people came up to him and took his hand to say hello.

Some people may think those things are all too simple to care for, but for a single mom with a young son who is quite disabled it is a big deal.  It is simple gestures from others that make this mom feel good about what she does–like taking her children to church.

There is always the before and after church too.  The before church is usually trying to get everybody out the door on time. It would not be a normal day without something getting in the way. Today was no different. I walked out of the room where I was getting ready and right away noticed the white powder all over the floor and room. Yeah, corn starch.

Corn starch! All over the floor with children walking through it.  The problem is that I needed to go, right then. You know what? I left. Yup, you got that right. I left.  The corn starch wasn’t going to go anywhere while we were gone, it would just have to practice its own patience and wait to get cleaned up.

By the time church was done I was in a good mood. I went to lunch afterward with my father and stepmother, followed by a drive. I would have gone home to take care of the corn starch at that point but one thing I have learned is that when a child falls asleep do not wake them up unless absolutely necessary.  So, drive time for car naps.  Yay! Everybody wins.  I have no kids climbing on me, someone gets a nap and everybody usually enjoys the drive.

Today the drive took us to an old cemetery. Old and unkept. Sad and lonely. Many graves had no markers while others had markers with no identifiers. These markers were not old and had been placed to at least mark where the final resting place was for many individuals.   I saw a few gravestones with markings on them. A few hit me particularly hard. Two grave stones for three children. All children were from the same family and died within a week of each other in November 1908. It was a stark reminder of how fragile life was.  Even though the parents have been gone for years I still felt sorrow for their loss. I could only wonder at the great pain they must have felt at that time. It reminded me that life is still just as fragile as years ago. So, I appreciate all the time I have with my children even when they may get me frustrated or dump corn starch all over the floor.

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