Angels

The Hug Lady

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:23:01 -0500

Taking care of my elderly mother demanded a lot. One evening, in bed with the flu, I just couldn't muster the strength to go downstairs and check on her.

How much is expected of one person? I complained to myself. At the same time I felt guilty for even thinking that way. After all, Mom had always gone out of her way to help others.

Forever Songs

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:23:00 -0500

In October 2003 my son, Lance, lost his battle with neuroblastoma, a pediatric cancer. He was 13 years old.

Family, friends and a support group all helped me deal with my grief, but sometimes the pain was just too much. The fall Lance had been dead two years, I was beyond solace. For days I fought back tears. One afternoon the house was so quiet I couldn't bear it. My sadness was heavy and suffocating. I felt like I was sinking in quicksand.

The Summer of Aunt Hattie

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:23:02 -0500

Our Illinois town was in bad shape in 1980 when my aunt Hattie came to spend the summer with my wife and me. Three years of drought spelled disaster for our farming community.

Families had moved away, literally to greener pastures. Dwindling resources and the town's depressed mood had taken a toll on our church too. Members bickered with one another. Some stopped attending services altogether. "God will send us a miracle," our minister promised, but it seemed like a losing battle.

The Woman Within

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:23:02 -0500

Awake? Asleep? It was hard to know. So much had happened, and here I was in a hospital bed.

My husband, Frank, was by my side. And my boys. Raising three sons was anything but easy, but there they were, healthy and successful. I saw our indispensable Franco, who'd lived and worked with us so long I considered him another son. Family was so important. I'd always known it, but now....Well, I had no words.

Jake's Delivery Service

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:23:00 -0500

I loved visiting my aunts in their retirement home. So did my grandson Jake.

I explained to him that these ladies were my mother's sisters. He loved hearing stories about Mom as much as we loved telling them. He also liked to say hello to the angel statue outside the chapel.

"I wrote your mother a letter," Jake said one afternoon. "We miss you," he read. "Your sisters had fun with you when they were little. Love, Jake."

Houdini Meets His Match

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:23:00 -0500

Houdini was my son Jonathan's nickname, and he'd earned it well. He escaped from strollers, car seats and playpens. To hold him was like hugging Jell-O.

So when my family visited a deep-sea fishing dock I put Jon in the middle of our group, surrounded by four adults. Even Houdini couldn't get loose from us.

I turned to say something to my sister. When I looked back Jon was gone, running at top speed for the water. "Somebody grab him!" I yelled.

Fly the Windy Skies

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:23:00 -0500

Thanksgiving in Mississippi with my in-laws had been great. Now we faced a plane ride home in heavy winds.

My son, Andrew, was only 2. I worried how he'd deal with the flight.

On the runway Andrew pressed his face to the window. "No, no," he said, as if to someone outside. "Andy's not scared."

"Who are you talking to?" I asked.

"The birds," he replied. I craned my neck but couldn't see a single bird.

Early Warning

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:23:00 -0500

Branches rattled the window. Rain whipped across the lake. I shivered under my bedcovers.

This little cottage had been in our family for generations, and I'd always felt safe here. But I didn't know if it could hold out in this storm.

Footsteps padded across the wooden floor to my bed. "Mommy!" 5-year-old Michael whispered. I was surprised that the weather had awakened him. He usually slept through anything.

Michael tugged me out of bed. "I saw it out my window over the trees. A light! Come on!"

J.J. and the Angels

jbloustein — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 14:21:15 -0600

Boxes filled the bedroom.

We had only days to go before my daughter, J.J., and I had to move.

But I was having second thoughts. Downstairs, the front door slammed and J.J. called up to me. “Mama,” she said. “Guess what? I saw another angel today!”

Solo

jbloustein — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 13:36:49 -0600

Three hours to go before my first piano recital, but I was already dressed in my Sunday-best blue dress.

My teacher, Mrs. Davidson, was married to a professor at the local university, so she held the recital in the big auditorium there. I’d never played in front of so many people. But at least I wouldn’t be on my own. Mother and Daddy would be there, and my little sisters, all cheering me on.