The Messengers and the Message

When we die we do we become angels?  The Bible says no.  God created us to be above the angels.  However, when He created children like Lynda with special needs I believe we are seeing another version of God's messengers.  God uses angels as messengers.  He uses children with special needs to be messengers, too.

The message?  A person's value has absolutely nothing to do with his  IQ.  God uses the weak and imperfect to tell some of His greatest stories.  People with special needs  may appear to be the ones who need to be taught (and they do)  but never underestimate what they can teach the rest of us considered neuro-typical.   You just never really know.  You might even be entertaining an angel unaware.  If we all believed that every special needs child or adult could be one of God's angels....this population would be treated equitably, with respect and we would feel honored to have met them. 
,
If God created humans to be above angels and humans are created in the likeness of God, what gives any one of us the right to look down on any person with a disability or a difference?  If we knew some one in our midst was an angel, we would all be on our best behavior.  Knowing that God made all humans regardless of their abilities or disabilities in His likeness, what on earth could give anyone the right to judge God's wonderful handiwork?  God ways are not man's ways.  A child with a disability isn't a mistake.  He is a message from God to our world.  Don't miss the message because the messenger may not look the way we expect,  speak clearly or may not even  be able to speak at all.

We will still have to answer one day about  what we did with the message they were sent to deliver.

Now It's Counted in Months....And It Has Been Two

First we counted in hours, then days, then weeks...now months.  Regardless of how it's measured it yields the same result.  Happiness that Lynda is in the arms of God and perfect in every way.  Sadness for those of us who are waiting to see her again.

Lynda was a beautiful little girl.  Children with autism are often exceptionally handsome which only seems to confuse people even more when trying to understand why their behaviors often deviate so much from their typically developing peers.  How many times have I heard people say to me how normal she looked or how you'd never know there was anything wrong with her by just looking at her prior to her stroke.

It is amazing to me how Lynda's features were changed when she suffered the stroke.  Her features changed, the texture of her skin....she seemed to age by years overnight.

Lynda was almost 41 and was a pretty young woman even though she was mentally a forever child.

She will certainly forever be my child.  In my mind (and most of us who loved her) she never aged past age ten.  That was the her age when she experienced the massive stroke that changed her life for the next 30 years.

Happy Birthday to Russ

Happy Birthday Russ!  I hope you know how much you are loved!  Our lives have certainly changed profoundly since my birthday on July 31st and your birthday today.  Thank you for all you have done to support me not only during the past two months but for all the years you've been my husband and best friend.

I hope you can have a relaxing day today and bask in the love that surrounds you.  Happy Birthday!!!!

Wings and Prayers

For as long as I can remember...especially since Lynda's stroke in 1981, I have sent messages to her through my prayers.  I've asked her angels to tell her how loved she is.  I've asked the Holy Spirit to comfort her and communicate to her in a way that she could understand that she was my hero.  I just wanted God to wrap her always in His arms and I know He has.

I believe that God has sent many angels to care for Lynda through the years.  Since God uses angels as His messengers I have to believe that God allowed His messengers to share with Lynda how much she was loved.

When Lynda was at NMRC, I thanked God for watching over her and asked Him to send one of his angels to Lynda at bedtime to whisper goodnight to her from her Nana. 

I do not for a minute think that Lynda was alone in her silence for 30 years.  I choose to believe that God has always leaned very close to Lynda and whispered comfort directly to her heart.  Now Lynda is surrounded by nothing but love and she understands and can communicate with her Heavenly Father, with Jesus and the Holy Spirit.  I bet she even knows all of her angels by name. 

Lynda's Grass is Growing!

 Lynda's grass is growing and it even looks green from a distance.  It's the tender new grass that we could cut with scissors but a lawn mower would chew to pieces.

We're just hoping it will take hold enough to make some roots and runners to hold it all together during the winter.  Tonight it got a drink of Miracle Grow in the water.  Of course the best growth has been after it rains.  The existing grass that had runners going up into the new soil seems to have stopped like they're watching the new grass to see how it does without them.  LOL

I can tell you one thing.  Just putting the dark potting soil over that red clay that they use to fill in the graves was an improvement for me.  I detest the red dirt.  Bramlett Elementary School used to have red dirt on their playgound.  Every day Kristopher would come in looking like he'd rolled around in the dirt (which in kindergarten he probably did).  Kevin could go to school dressed in white and come home looking like he left.  I, on the other hand, it has been rumored by my mother tended to lean toward Kristopher's rolling in the dirt routine.  I came home with my dress sashes hanging and she always knew I'd had a good day.  Lynda always had grass stains on her bottom from playing outside.  She had a sandbox and she liked to play in it.  She also just liked to sit on the grass and pull up blades and watch them fall from her hand.  Lynda loved the outdoors in any season.  I know she has a great view of all of God's creations and who knows that might just include her grass which isn't really about the actual grass but rather the love that goes into growing each blade in her memory.  You are loved, Lynda.  I hope God has explained to you just how much you blessed our lives.  Have another great day in Paradise.

A Different Kind of Nesting

We went by the cemetery to water Lynda's grass.  I'm also trying to clean and restore the headstones of my grandparents, uncle and my Daddy's bronze headstone.  We work a little on each one of the projects when we go to water the grass.  So far I've learned that to restore a bronze headstone like Daddy's you use mineral oil and it restores the finish like magic.  I still have some work to do on the brass borders but the dark spots on the bottom one are actually shadows. 

  My granddaddy Carpenter who passed away in 1949 before I was even born had a military type stone that as far back as I can remember was a white, chalkish looking stone.  I oiled a small piece of the stone that was hidden in the grass and discovered it was actually granite.  After polishing the whole stone it was gray with black spots and beautiful.  Now I'm scraping the dirt out of the deeply carved letters and numbers.  That is tedious but we work a little on it and then move on to another one.

My mama passed away when I was two.  Her stone is granite and a darker gray and flat.  It has about half of it darker so I'm trying to gently scrub whatever the black discoration is.  I put a little oil on the stone when I oiled the others last week.  Today I took a little bit of dawn detergent and rubbed a corner of the darkened area.  When I rinsed it, it was the original lighter color.  Since we have to haul water from the back of the cemetery in a large watering can we are limited with how much we can do at one time.  My uncle's stone looks like the lettering might have had some type of ink put into the letters and numbers to make them be easier to read but they appear to be running down the stone in places.

I've seen this on a lot of other stones and am going to have to research this and talk to people who are knowledgeable about tombstone restoration and cleaning.  I've read a lot on the internet and watched a lot of demonstrations on YouTube and that has really helped.  I tried a recommended gentle cleaner by using hydrogen peroxide, water, and dawn dish washing liquid.  That has done the best of all.

There is so much I don't know about the whole process of cleaning and restoring tombstones.  I've mastered the bronze one.  Now I need anyone who has good options that has worked for you to comment.

Lynda's head stone is going to be polished black granite so we can have our design etched into the stone. It will be ready to install about the second week in November.  It has been very comforting to work on the family stones while I'm there checking on Lynda's grass.  I've decided it's something like we mothers do when we are getting ready to have a baby.  It's called nesting.  I don't know what it's called when we have buried a child and tend to the grave site in the same fervor as we prepared for their nurseries before they were born.  Yes, I know it's called grief but I believe it's also a form of nesting when all we can do is tend to the final resting place.

Lynda's Grandmother Anderson

I couldn't begin to name all of the things that my mother has done for Lynda throughout the 39 years Lynda was with us.  She began making Lynda the one piece jumpsuits when Lynda was wearing a 3T.  They zipped up the back.  Some were sleeveless and some had short sleeves.  Throughout the years, I cannot imagine how many of those suits she has made.  She and I have wished so many times that we had kept a piece of the material from all of the things she has made for Lynda.  Mother made the pattern and put an extra piece in the seat to give her more room to sit cross legged and sit with her legs wrapped around her neck.  LOL

My favorite one is the purple sleeveless one that I have a picture of Lynda in it and she's clapping.  Looking through the pictures, we could almost reconstruct all of the different versions through the years.  Lynda was not kind to the suits.  When she wanted to get them off, she might tear it from the arm or at the zipper.  She was like wonder woman.  Mother put some much time and effort into making the jumpsuits.  They were definitely crafted with love because as much as Nana-Hot (as Lynda called her) sewed for Lynda, my mother did not really enjoy sewing.  She would have rather been outside working in the flowers or playing with Lynda.  I don't know what we would have done without Mother sewing for Lynda and keeping us in jumpsuits to try to keep Lynda's clothes on.

Mother and I took Lynda everywhere we went.  There were no babysitters that we trusted to handle her seizures if one occurred.  So, we loaded the car up with whatever we could imagine we might need and headed off shopping or going out to eat.  One night after we had been shopping at the mall in Jackson, TN, we stopped at a little cafe on the way home to have a piece of pie.  We got Lynda all settled in a highchair, ordered pie for us all and when it was served we saw it had mold on the crust.  We decided to leave and go to the next little diner down the road.  Well, Lynda was having none of that.  We had put out pie and taken it back.  She was "Da-ing" us with her mad word and spitting and generally letting us know that she was not happy.  We couldn't help but laugh because Lynda loved to eat and she wasn't in the habit of having food placed before her and then scooped up before she could eat it.  She said "Da" as we tried to get her out of the cafe and no matter how we tried to explain we'll get you more pie---we had really harshed her mellow!  LOL

We did get to the next cafe and got pie for us all.  She didn't let that piece out of her sight for a second.  Mother came and stayed with us for a week or so in Brewton from time to time and Lynda loved to have her there to play with her and cook some of her favorite foods.  That's why she called her Nana-Hot.  She cooked and the stove was hot.  I was Nana and she made grandmother, Nana Hot.  Really ingenious use of word combinations to produce new meanings.

My mother was the perfect grandmother for Lynda.  She loved her unconditionally and cheered for every achievement regardless of how small.  She hurt when Lynda hurt with seizures and child abuse.  She was devastated when Lynda had the stroke but she continued to make Lynda's favorite foods for her after she was able to eat and made special versions of dishes for Lynda without milk products.

One of the greatest things that Mother did for Lynda (and the rest of us) was offering for she and Daddy to come to our house on Christmas Eve and spend the night so we didn't have to wrestle with Lynda from the time Kevin was about two years old.  She cooked the holiday meal and catered it to our house to eat it there.  She made this huge sacrifice many, many times over  the years.  It was the greatest gift she could have given us to have holidays in our home with Lynda in her environment and her schedule.  It made growing up for Kevin and Kristopher much easier at the holidays where they could enjoy a less stressful situation than if we were trying to travel with the crew.

Lynda has been blessed to have many people who love her and in return she has given us almost 40 years of rich memories.