It’s been a rough month…months…how the heck is it June already??? After (finally) moving into our awesome new house, I thought the big stresser of the year was behind us. Silly me.
Sometime in mid-May, we found out that my father-in-law has a brain tumor. It’s been a rough ride dealing with doctors and nurses, surgery and rehab, and soon-to-be radiation and chemo. It’s been one of the most exhausting and frustrating months of our married life. But more than that, more than all the long nights and tears and arguments and fears, there has been an overwhelming outpouring of love.
Family and friends from all over the state of Texas and beyond have been in and out of Pop’s room since day one. We’ve taken over waiting rooms and family rooms. We’ve played Gin Rummy, Texas Hold ’em and Hide & Seek. We’ve shared hugs and kisses and smiles and tears and lots and lots of food. We’ve played with new babies and loved on old friends. As a family, our hearts are overflowing with love and gratitude for every prayer, thought, kind word, card, visit, hug, smile, laugh, sigh, and every other act of love you’ve shown us. Thank you.
For updates on Pop’s condition and to leave a message for him and the family, please visit his CaringBridge site.
A few weeks ago, I had the joy of picking up my now 4-year-old neice from school. Since her class gets out at 10:30 and her sisters’ didn’t get out till much later, we had a few hours to kill before going to pick them up.
I have several vivid memories of trick-or-treating with our dear family friends the Rivenbarks. We’d truck out through the neighborhood being as adorable as possible whilst shouting “trick-or-treat” in the faces of anyone gracious enough to open their door. But what I remember most is what came after we got home. We’d all dump out our pillow cases/baskets/plastic pumpkins full of loot onto the coffee table and commence trading Smarties for Dumdums, Tootsie Rolls for Jolly Ranchers…until the candy police came and confiscated all our hard earned sweets. Dad and Tom (aka Daddy Rivenbark) would swoop in and take all our candy under the guise of inspecting it for needles and other evidence of tampering. I don’t know what was wrong with people in the 80s, but I’m thirty years old and I’ve never heard of anyone getting a needle wrapped up with their Milk Duds. Once the dads had carefully probed every peice of candy, and removed anything they deemed “suspicious,” we were free to stuff ourselves silly.
“Ooh! What’s that?” She squealed.
It’s been a tough week for the Hendon family. My father-in-law’s mother, known to all her grandchildren as Mamaw, passed away Tuesday night. I only got to meet her once, about 18 months ago, but even then, Trey says, she was just a shadow of the amazing woman that she once was. Nursing homes and strokes always change people. I think he feels guilty about it, but I know Trey doesn’t want to remember her in that nursing home bed, he wants to remember her at home, where she loved her family and could tell them so.
It’s been two months since we packed up all our belongings and moved across the country to San Antonio. We quickly got settled into our apartment; the cats have also (finally) made the adjustment. We’re slowly but surely getting involved: I joined a women’s bible study with 7 beautiful, faithful women, my only complaint is we just meet once a month; Trey and I are attending our first choir practice at Oak Hills Church this evening; and next Sunday, the 26th, we plan to audition for one of the many community theatres here – they hold auditions for their entire season all at one time (next season includes Xanadu, The Drowsy Chaperone, and Hello Dolly). However, for some reason, the homesickness is just now starting to sink in. We miss you. A lot. 
