This past weekend, my husband and I went to a funeral service for a very dear man.
This man was bigger than life.
He truly was the epitome of those words.
He was a large man in height and presence.

He was a deacon at our former church.
I can still see him in the pew where he usually sat.
He always sat with his wife by his side.
He had three children: a son, a daughter, and another son.

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I saw her pirouetting around the room.
Obviously trying to pass the time while her mom was shopping.
I almost envied her abandon.

She was wearing a twirly skirt, which she obviously loved to wear as she danced.
She had rain boots on her feet, not the ballet slippers I would have imagined.
She was carefree, not yet affected by the whims of the world.

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Something that was only dreamed about became a reality fifteen years ago.
Imagine that we could not only talk to someone on the phone but see them, too.
Prior to its launch, phone calls were what they always were: one voice conversing with another.
Now, we have two options when we place a call: voice only or FaceTime.

It would have been so nice to have had this technology when my children were in college.
To see their face between visits would have been so lovely.
Though having this technology now is such a blessing.
My grandchildren enjoy talking to me this way.

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I was never adept at styling the hair of my three daughters when they were little.
Oh, I could put their hair in pigtails or a ponytail.
I could place a barrette or clip in just the right place.
I knew how to put a hair tie in their hair that matched the color of their outfit.

I remember when I took my children to get haircuts.
My oldest daughter loved getting one particular stylist.
In fact, she would let her sister go ahead of her and waited for that stylist in particular.
That stylist would French braid my daughter’s long hair after she cut it.

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Sometimes I hesitate to mention anything that needs to be fixed around the house.
I hesitate, because my husband acts on the twenty-four hour rule.
Nothing can sit undone or broken for more than twenty-four hours.
I ask and he fixes it.

That is a huge blessing.
He will literally drop what he is doing to do whatever needs to be done.
I do not take him for granted.
I truly appreciate his care.

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In the span of a month, four of our six grandchildren have their birthdays.
The oldest one will soon be six-years-old.
The youngest one will soon be six-months-old.
The four birthdays, happening in a month’s time, all happen to be granddaughters.

The April birthday girl just turned four-years-old.
The May birthdays will be turning five, two, and six-years-old respectively.
Four little girls, six and under, are a joy to see.
Princesses, unicorns, dress-up clothes, necklaces, and bracelets are the way of things, it seems.

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There is an equestrian fox that we visit.
It is a stone fox, seated, wearing equestrian clothes and a top hat.
He is sometimes called a Gentleman Fox.
My granddaughters love him.

I don’t know when it started.
Perhaps it was when my husband took them for walks when I was making dinner.
Going to see the fox became their thing to do together.
Let’s go visit the fox was always met with squeals and a loud, Yay!

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I enjoy switching the seasonal decorations around my house.
Little touches here and there that help set the tone for the particular time of year.
The seasonal flag outside on of our garage doors gets changed frequently.
There is something comforting in the rhythm of the seasons.

Easter decorations are out now.
Bunches of silk forsythia in a large vase just beg to be touched to see if they’re real.
Heavy porcelain eggs in a special dish purchased many years ago, are on the dining room table.
Adorable rustic bunnies, on my Hoosier cabinet, were made by a Mennonite woman.

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My grandson will be one-year-old right after the New Year.
This means he is on the verge of walking.
With four granddaughters, having a grandson is wonderfully different.
The expression, all boy, comes to mind.

Electric cords appear like shiny objects to him.
If there is a tiny space between a table and chair, he will find it and enter it.
If there is something to climb, he will.
I love every minute of his curiosity.

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My daughter and her husband came in the house.
They were laden with the typical things you carry when arriving with three children.
The sweet potato casserole she made for our dinner was in a special zipped carrier.
The children went off to play.

After unloading most of her things, my daughter handed me a pile of cards.
The cards were made out of construction paper of various colors.
On each card was written the names of everyone sitting at our table that evening.
The handwriting was that of my oldest granddaughter who is 4 1/2 years old.

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