Be The Best.

Rice Krispy Squares and Cleaning House

It was a long day at work.  A good day, but long.

Leaving the campus just after 8pm, we settled in for the 35 minute commute.

Ingrid handed me a wrapped package.  Rice Krispy Squares, homemade by you know who, she said.

I knew.  I won’t publicize here, because I don’t want anyone else encroaching on my secret Rice Krispy Square baker!

They were fantastic.  My friends and colleagues know my weakness for Rice Krispy Squares.  Ok, it’s an addiction really, not a weakness.

It brought back many memories tonight.  I don’t think we cooked a meal that we had to prepare for a month after Chris passed away.  It was an amazing way that people told/showed us they were supporting us.

When we got home tonight, our house was sparkling clean, just like every Wednesday.  That’s when the cleaners come.  Except, we’ve never hired cleaners.  Another anonymous (yes, we are pretty sure we know!) supporter has organized weekly cleaning for the past year.  We are amazed, humbled and grateful for these things.

There was a situation at work today where colleagues were discussing a family situation in which there was an unexpected and severe illness of a spouse of a colleague in their department.  I provided the example of the cleaning and how much it has affected us in a positive way as an idea for consideration to answer the constant question of what can we do to help.

My sister Grace last night talked about the flower delivery person showing up at her door on the 1st anniversary of her husband’s passing and suggesting it was her lucky day.

Thankfully, those kind of interactions have been very very few and far between.

Instead we have been blessed again and again with thots, prayers and actions of support…like Rice Krispy Squares and a clean house!

Be The Best.

The long and the short of it.

I wrote a few lines the other day and just couldn’t hit the ‘publish’ button.

The thoughts were plenty deep and plenty real, but like a good wine, they have now aged an appropriate time and I can provide some greater context.

This Christmas season is not the easiest as you can imagine.

Christmas is all about family, food, traditions.

Of course that invokes memories.  That’s not a bad thing…not at all.  It’s just that this being our first Christmas without Chris, really feels weird.  You shouldn’t take the Chris out of Christmas right?  (yes, this is a a very bad pun at an inappropriate time…but that’s how we roll in this family!)

I wrote these four lines the other day.  They just sort of blurted out of my head.

How broken is my heart?

How deep is my love.

How deep is my love?

How broken is my heart.

One of the things I’ve realized is that the pain we feel, and so many of you feel too, is simply symbolic of the love we had and have for Chris.  You CANNOT have a broken heart if you had no love.  Plain and simple.

For some of you, you never had a chance to meet this kid in person.

He was amazing.  He would light up a room when we walked/bounced/stormed in!

His spirit now lights up many hearts and rooms.

We get through these times by making decisions, giving, and even taking shots in the dark.

If you’ve read this blog before, all of the above will make sense.  If you haven’t…you’ve got some work to do!

That’s the long.  Here’s the short.

I had pieces of two batches of shortbread cookies last night.

Both were unbelievable.  Those of you who know me know I don’t eat wheat so these were rice flour shortbread cookies.  They are hard to find and hard to make.

Yet two different people went out of their way in a gesture of kindness to show us that they were thinking of us at Christmas.

I’m telling you, we are again humbled by these act of kindness.  They not only help us through this journey, but it burns in my mind the incredible positive impact that the action of giving can produce.

I put a few bucks into a Salvation Army kettle last night like so many us have done on this and every other holiday season.  This time though I had more of a sense than ever about how any act, even one so small,  can make an impact.

That’s the long and short of it.