I can still remember sitting for the portrait.
Nothing fancy…just an artist who was sketching in a store in Philadelphia.
Somehow my mother found out about it and decided to take advantage of the opportunity.
It was a day of getting dressed up with lunch to follow.

I remember that my dress was pink.
The artist told my mother she was going to make it blue.
It was so hard to sit still when I was five years old.
Somehow, I sat still long enough for her to get a preliminary sketch.
The portrait would be finished some time later.

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A young mother spent the days at home with her small children.
Some days were simply delightful, playing with them, reading with them, training them.
Some days were difficult and exhausting…when nothing seemed to go right.

Remnants of breakfast were on the floor under the high chair.
Jelly was stuck in the two year old’s hair.
As the sun shone through the glass storm door, she could see every hand print, every nose print, and little forehead marks pressed upon the glass.
She knew each print and who put them there.

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The first Sunday of every month is communion Sunday at our church.
I look forward to sharing this time of fellowship with my church family.

It is also the day new members are welcomed.
More family members…making our circle bigger.

Three of the four new members that were added this month are part of the same family.
Typically, that would not have been something unusual.
This time, however, it was two generations of the same family.
A patriarch…his daughter and her husband.

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There were two babies born in the past few days.
It is such a blessing to see a tiny new life.
One day here…the day before…on the other side.

Each baby already has siblings.
The parents have been through the miracle of birth before.
I enjoy seeing pictures of the new family.
The siblings getting acquainted with their new brother or sister.

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He sits on the kitchen counter.
Not really a “he”…but an “it”.
He has been there since my children were little.
A life saver, really, with five children all asking the same thing…every day.

What’s for dinner?

Five times each day that question would be asked…at various times of course.
Really…six times…my husband would ask as well.
I decided to remedy the situation.
I set out on my quest!

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October 17, 1981.
Thirty one years ago today, my husband and I were married.
It was a gorgeous fall day…with the trees ablaze in color…and the sky the bluest blue.

Let me go back to the beginning.

High school…the next step.
After years with the same friends, you are suddenly thrust into this ocean of people.
People from different schools…different towns.
Everything different.

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One of my husband’s cousins is compiling a family photo album.
Pictures from the past…the Gallagher history.
It is a blessing…and a catharsis…since both of my husband’s parents died this year, seven months apart.

A walk down memory lane.
Seeing my husband as a boy…with his brothers…and only one sister at that time.
They all have the same faces…they are now just an older version of themselves.
They have the same mannerisms.
The brother that teases now…was the brother that teased then.

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The mother of my dear friend died the other morning.
Her obituary said that she went home to be with her Lord and Savior.
That is true!

There is such comfort when a believer, in Christ, dies.
There is no wondering…no uncertainty.
There is assurance.
Such a wonderful word!

Assurance is defined as a positive declaration intended to give confidence; a certainty about something.

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