Resurrection Dreaming

I dreamed the most wonderful dream last night. Well, the resolution of it was wonderful. I am a dreamer. My sister, Cherry, is a dreamer. Every few days our morning coffee conversations begin with, "You won't believe what I dreamed last night..." A lot of what we dream is picked up from life's residuals. The dreams are long, vivid, intoxicating.

Grief: A Strange Bird

Grief is a strange bird. Beyond the obvious, heartwrenching ways you are affected by your undeniable companion, grief's presence shapes you in funny, unexpected, ways too. Baseball season is once again in full swing. The Kirbys love baseball. Jeremy loved baseball. So, beginning this season was another "first" in the Kirby home. Due to the timing of Jeremy's untimely death we were forced to hit some of the big "Firsts" on the front end: Halloween (Lord help us), Thanksgiving, Jeremy's 13th birthday (the hallmark moment in the Kirby home when one is allowed to have a cell phone), Christmas, Eddie's birthday, our anniversary, New Year's, Valentine's, and now with the advent of spring--baseball season has arrived.

Breakfast of Champions: Arsenic & Grease

It's 1:38 p.m., Biloxi High dismisses at 2:10 p.m. No time to do much of anything, if I plan on picking up lil Eddie on time. Which is high priority, of course. At the same time I don't want to be the third person parked in line behind the two grandparents that arrive at 1:30 like clock work, battling for  pole position. What can I do to kill 10 to 15 minutes? Wish I had time to cross the bridge and make a grocery run, but too late for that. Run car through wash? Nah. Should I be hungry? Yes. Eating is one of those "Must-Dos" that should be priority, but post Oct 23rd I kind of have to remind myself or be reminded by Eddie or my sister, Cherry, to do “normal” people things like eat, sleep, shower.

Through The Fire

On October 23, 2010, our precious son, Jeremy Kirby, was taken. My heart shattered. Soul twisted.  I was  struck completely down, but NOT destroyed. Words aren't adequate to name the depth of incomprehensible horror coupled with inescapable despair that clenched me. At that point my eyes were opened to the harsh reality of what "true" suffering looks like. Previously, my "suffering" (which I consider all now foolishness post October 23rd: ie--financial troubles, relational dynamics, worrying about my kids etc.) do not compare to the gripping grief that now has become a constant journey partner for me.

Puzzle of 7

One of the first times it happened to me, it literally took my breath away. I was awakened by the sweet sound of birds chirping. As I lay there comfortable in my bed I kissed the morning, “Hello,” and swam in a pillow of warm thoughts about what the day might bring. Sunlight pouring in our bedroom window beckoned me to embrace the day. It was a Saturday. And it was going to be a beautiful Saturday, indeed. I contemplated what the Kirbys could do with this day, our Saturday. In my mind I starting making plans. I rolled over and my eyes caught my husband sleeping next to me. Perhaps he and the boys would enjoy fishing on a beautiful morning like this. Straightening the house was at the top of my to do list. Perhaps Chloe would want to be a little helper. We could get the house in order in a few hours and then have a girl day. What to do? We could go visit Momee and Popee. We could go to Queen's Nails for some pampering. We could see what CC was up to today. My thoughts returned to Eddie and the boys potential fishing outing. My mind conjured up an image of them out on the Ocean Springs pier casting their lines and enjoying some Dad time. There stood my beautiful boys: Eddie, lil Eddie, Jeremy, Mosie and Duke. All together, fishing, joking, enjoying each other's company. And in a flash of an instance it all flooded back.