“Losing your mom is harder than you think it is going to be,” I reminded my friend recently, still raw from the loss of her own mom.

“You’ve got that right,” she agreed.

This time of year always gets to me– when spring is in the air, as the 17th anniversary of my mother’s death approaches. I will simply never forget her and all she meant to me.

In my mind, I saw her in the moon last night as it rose above the rooftops across the street. I cannot see a full moon without thinking of her. Maybe my memory deceives me (

2018 was a banner year for the Captain and me:  we became Gigi and Grandad.  Jubilee Kate arrived on July 6.  Can you see the resemblance? 

Son Matt and Melissa announced about 18 months ago that they were going to adopt before they attempted to have biological children.  They wanted it that way so their first one would know that he or she was chosen. 

Matt is in the military and wouldn't have to pay a red cent for a biological birth.  Instead, he and Melissa chose to tackle the mountain of money and the mountain of paperwork required.

Sitting here with Kevlar on my windows while the last of Hurricane Gordon pours a steady rain has given me pause to reflect on the only hurrican Memphis ever had. If you're not from Memphis, you probably don't know about Hurricane Elvis, as it did not make the national news.  I remember it well, though, because Hurricane Elvis marked the beginning of one of the greatest storms of our lives.  I hope it encourages somebody in the midst of a trial.  

On July 22, 2003, we were living in Memphis and expecting our 8th baby.

The Captain and I launched #6 this summer.  Our daughter, Emma, is off to the Coast Guard Academy.  

If there is one thing I have learned about the American military academies, it is this:  it is hard to get into them and hard to get out of them.  The application process is a long, grueling series of forms, interviews, essays, tests and health clearances.  If you get accepted (and only a fraction of the kids who apply get in) you report for basic training (Swab Summer) when summer has barely begun; this is followed by a grueling academic year.

Cleaning out for our move, I came across my old journals. 

From the time I was a senior in high school until the day my first baby was born, I journaled almost every day.  I recorded with great detail nearly every thought, fact and conversation I had from the first time I saw my husband until the day we got married. Had to share this little gem from 32 years ago. 

"On my way out of church I spoke to Robert Sims for a few seconds, wondering all the time if he notices me like I notice him--but desperately trying to cover it up in casual conversation.