Independence Day

When Matt and Mike went on their first out-of the-neighborhood biking adventure, they were nervous about the busy highway they would have to cross. We discussed how they would safely go about making sure it was clear and then proceed, watching out for each other and traffic. I waited, reassuring myself that they would be okay, nervous, but proud of them for attaining this milestone... a little taste of independence.

I am viewed by some of our friends and neighbors as something of an anomaly. I actually allow my kids to go off on a plane to New York City, Washington D.C. and even Japan-without me! (To some of them, going anywhere outside of the state of Louisiana is unthinkable!) While I worry about them and their safety on these trips, I put all of that into God's hands, and hope that the experience helps them to grow and learn (about themselves, as much as the places they are visiting). I think that they surprise themselves to learn that they are capable of taking care of and coping with anything that may come their way.

Mommy, I'm sure, went through her share of suffering through all of the milestones of our independence, but she never held us back from striving toward those goals.

Now, I have the unhappy job of taking her independence away from her, bit by bit. It eats at my soul, even though I know that I do it for her own good. I know that neither I, nor she, are responsible for the necessity that leads me to do it, but the dementia that grips her reason. It makes me so angry and there is nothing to be done to fight it-like tilting at windmills, it's a fruitless battle that will inevitably be lost.

So different from the feelings of encouraging my children to test themselves, I'm feeling nothing but discouraged to see the losses and mourn for all that she used to be.

I have to, once again, put all of that into God's hands, and hope that the experience helps us to grow and learn that we are capable of taking care of and coping with anything that may come our way... with His help.

Grandparents are Antique Little Girls and Boys

In honor of Momma and Daddy's birthdays:

Daddy at the pump 1926 (1 year old)

Momma remembers this as a red-and-white checkered dress.

Standing on a stump. (2 years old, 1929)

The photographer had this little cart and goat.

Daddy and puppy 1926 (1 year old)