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| Campfire: 1984. |
Of Memories and Marshmallows
Those of you who follow my blog or Facebook account know that for the past eight years, October 29th has frequently been a tough day for me. My husband died on that day in 2014 from injuries sustained in a bicycle accident.
It is not a day to celebrate. Though we could. We wouldn’t be celebrating losing him, but rather cheering for him in his new heavenly home.
It is not necessarily a day of mourning, either. Yes, I’ve mourned. Losing Tom was the hardest experience of my life. But over these last eight years, God has been faithful to bring me to places of healing, surround me with people I need, and teach me how to move forward a little more each day.
Through the years, October 29 has simply been a day we recognize. And remember. Some years we’ve gathered for a meal. Some years we’ve visited his grave.
This year we came together at my house. The weather was perfect for my son-in-law David to grill hamburgers. Kendall brought a pasta salad. Allison made brownies. Mom and I pitched in.
You get the idea.
After we ate, as the shadows of night began to fall, the guys built a fire in the fire pit. We roasted marshmallows and made s’mores. We talked about past fire pits and campfires. We laughed. We played as a family will do. Even Nora and Josie’s dog, Kiwi got in on the fun.
But more importantly, we built a new memory as we shared our hopes and dreams for the future. Tom would have loved it.
Be sure to check in next week for my final (?) post on the Citizens Police Academy.
Now for a few pictures:
Gathering around the fire pit together.
So, yes, my oldest grandson is taller than me. But my youngest granddaughter is still shorter. (Whew!)
The fire was hot and ready.
The evening wasn't all that cold. Here's Jo in her Princess dress.
Kendall, Josh, and Kiwi.
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