Some Situations That Control Our Lives

Just before the weekend started, my computer failed in three important categories: no banking privileges, no blogging, and no reading of others’ blogs. Then all day Monday was devoted to family, with little Johnny’s funeral service, then continuing service for family at the cemetery, and with the family’s gathering at the home of one set of Johnny’s grandparents. Weather-wise, it was a perfect day with bright sun and gentle breeze. The sad occasion had its happiness too, happiness in the fact that our dear little one just moved to a better place and to the loving arms of Jesus. I am pleased to have his bodily remains placed with those of my husband John and our son Philip.

What a large crowd our family members were! Some of my grandchildren I had not seen in years, for they don’t live near me. My oldest grandchild, Jill, one of those long-not-seen ones, impressed me greatly with her charm and poise as she spoke of her children and husband who were not present. But if I write something about each one of them here, and you read it, you wouldn’t have time to do your Christmas shopping for this coming Christmas. So I’ll mention a bit about a grandson, in my other son’s family, and then just three more. My remarks about the others can seep into future blogs.

Grandson Josh arrived late, because of other activities he was engaged in. I happened to be near the front door when he came in with a lovely tall young lady, whom he introduced. I didn’t stay long after that, and didn’t really get to know her, but off hand, I’d say, you may be lucky, Josh. Good first impression.

The other three are Allison, Philip, and Emma, my great grandchildren. They had just had a dream disappear from their lives and their hearts ached. I hugged them all, and talked at length with Emma. She was wearing a new dress—like most children these days, she lives in pants and shorts and tops—but she was proud of her new dress, and toyed with two bracelets on her left arm. Her hair was held back off her face and sparkles from some ornament pinned there put her at the top of the charts. What a doll she is!

Philip, 13, is special, not just because of who he is in his own right, but because he bears the exact name of our youngest son, who died at age 19 from leukemia. I’ve heard wonderful reports of how Philip is quick to voluntarily help his mother with chores. And he told me he loves to read. That’s important in my book.

The eldest, Allison, I’ve heard, reads everything she can get her hands on. Now that’s one of the best things I can hear of a great-grandchild. She had a new dress too, the color complimenting her thick dark auburn hair. Now sometimes I miss on color, but I think it is auburn. I’d love to hear her talk about books she’s read, but the opportunity was not there that day.

In California these children are home-schooled and live about a block and a half from the town’s library. As is usually the case in home schooling, they are far above what the same-age children are achieving in public schools.

So with the events of Monday, it was not until Tuesday that my computer tech came out to take a look at Pete, and then decide to take him to the office and rework him entirely, whatever that process is called. Today I got Pete back. He’d had a virus and I don’t open mail I’m not sure of. So he caught it some other way. I can’t make up for the days you found no new blog here—you poor deprived dears—but I still have the gift of gab. What a phrase. I wonder if the word “glib” came from that phrase.

Check here soon for, what seems so far, to be an awfully good novel. You can get more reading done when you have no computer.

♥