Bees in My Bonnet

 We visited again with Shannon this morning. The weather is cool and perfect and drinking tea seems to fit the mood.  We said goodbye and made our way to Donaghadee to poke around this small town on the coast and visit the local graveyard. I was looking for relatives from long ago - last names of Walker, Allen, Hamilton, and even McDowell. I'm not sure those I found are related... I'll need to do some more digging. I haven't done much homework on the tracing-your-lineage thing. Someone did most of this for the Crutchfield side a while ago. I don't have much mapped out from my mom's side - the Walker, Allen side.  I started to wonder about those in the distant past of my family when reading the book 'Translating Your Past ' by Michelle Van Loon. I highly recommend this book! It made me think - who were these people? What were their values? What is my heritage?  Wandering around the harbour and town and talking to locals, I get a sense of tradition, value, his...

 Jet lag.  Awake at midnight. So I started digging around on 'find a grave site' website to see if I can locate Grandpa Walker's cousin, Nina somewhere in Belfast. No luck, even if I am part Irish. Mom's cousin, Aunt Barbara, helped quite a bit with pics of documents etc. Finally got tired around 5 a.m. Slept 'til 10. Didn't want to sleep the day away, and it was sunny. Sam took me to Scrabo tower. Sun was bright and happy, like us. Maybe a rarity for me. Ireland suits my personality. I feel at home here. I wish I could grow a garden here. Rain most days feels needed. Like window washing for the soul. Verdant life abounds everywhere.  The tight roads and winding curves fry my nerves...I learn to trust. The locals drive here every day and they don't crash! Amazing! After the tower we came home and had leftover Indian food for lunch. We had gone out for that last night. Then we headed out to see Shannon, Sam's cousin's daughter. She was home with her t...

 Since the whirlwind that is our life has been fairly non-stop for the past 25 years, Sam decided it would be fun to go somewhere, just the two of us. He gave me a few options and I don't remember what the others were because I instantly, without a pause, said, "Ireland".  And after months of planning and getting a new passport, two days ago, we boarded the plane and landed in Dublin yesterday, drove two hours north to Belfast, walked to a local fish 'n chips place, and went to church this morning. I'll put a few pictures here and hand-write some notes to type up when at a computer next week.  It's quite the adventure already 😊

 19 years ago tomorrow I went to CDH to deliver our 3rd child. I didn't know then that we would go on to have 2 more babies. I was 29 years old and crossing that bridge where parents are outnumbered by children. I can't say I knew what we were getting into. It was a tumultuous time in our lives (I'm guessing that is more of a normal thing for the Logan family than for most!). Sam was still in grad school - having completed his first year, and was working odd jobs over the summer to support us. Throughout that hot and humid August, I was great with child, and fairly exhausted keeping up with a 5 year old Caleb and 3 year old Priscilla. They were ready and eager to greet their little brother, waiting with all the wonder and excitement a 5 and 3 year-old can muster.   At his high school graduation a year ago, I stood up to deliver this speech, which was in the form of a letter to my son: Dear Timothy Sheldon Logan, 18 years ago I was just beginning the 3rd and final trimester ...

 Today is March 8 - the day between. On March 7, 2016, I got the unexpected phonecall that Dad was not responsive and couldn't be woken. And then the journey of grief, loss, and sudden, unexpected change. Having had 2 parents for 39 years felt normal and familiar, even if it wasn't the best relationship or easy. I had never not had both parents. And so began a new kind of life, and learning. I learned what death means in a new, real, heart-rending way.  Fast forward to 2022, March 9. We got the call March 8 that Mom was unconscious and would likely not survive the night. We got in the car with a few kids and drove through the night to Arkansas to try to get there to say goodbye to her unconscious body. We wanted to be with Cathy in that lonely, fearful, painful time. Two hours before we would arrive, Mom breathed her last. It was around 7 in the morning when Cathy called to say Mom had been taken home to glory. And so in every year since I have found March 8 to be the day betw...

For Previous Post Click Here   Here's what I wrote last year:  I start to get up out of bed and grab a purple skirt, and throw a t-shirt on. A random thought hits me - 'glad I'll be home in a bit as I shouldn't really go out in public looking like a disheveled trash collector wearing whatever I gleaned from a dumpster dive' (no dig for dumpster divers here! They're probably my tribe!). Sam offers to go instead. I tell Sam he can go to bed since he's tired. Last minute before I leave I see Sam up - some random impulse compelled him to come with me. I let him drive. 'Just go to North Avenue. Then go north on Gary - that's what Timo said. He said we'd find him there a little way up.' And find him we did. First we saw some bright lights. We figured a cop car had likely stopped. But there were so many. We didn't count them all. The road was cordoned off. A cop was re-directing traffic - no cars could head north on this road. We pull up to the ...

For previous post, Click here    I already told about that 2nd night, how it was worse than the first. What I didn't mention was the anxiety storm I was in. I was awake all night imagining the worst - the mounting medical bills, the needs Timo would have for the coming months, my own inner world feeling like it was hanging by a thread. Was I prayerful? Kind of. More whiny, and perplexed, trying to figure out how we would manage. As the sun began to rise, and I was still panicky and fearful, I knew I couldn't carry that load anymore in my soul. It just wasn't sustainable. My prayer became different then. Instead of, "But God, what about this? What about that? What about my limited capacity? What about Timo in pain? What about bills? What about healing? What about hope? None of this seems hopeful. Oh, and by the way, thank you for sparing his life." Yeah, I caught myself on this last one. The storm I was in had overcome me. I could barely scratch the surface of grat...