princess

Today should have been just another day for her. It's not her birthday, but she'd be wearing a tiara for sure (which would probably be permanently attached to her head by now). Pink, ruffles, lace, rhinestones...and that would just be her pajamas.

Would she still have her tracheostomy? I don't know. I know for a fact, though, that if she did, the ties would not be the standard blue, because her momma would have bought up every pair of pink/purple/princess/girly ties she could find on Etsy.

Would the consult she was scheduled to have in Boston have been successful? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, her momma would never have given up on her. She left late into the night every night, and would call at the same time an hour or so later to check on her blood gas. She gave up everything for her girl, but she would never have called it a sacrifice.

Would she be walking and playing? It might have been with assisting devices, but she would have fought through it with her quiet, determined peace (and the occasional tantrum when she was just absolutely over it). Would she still make us work for her smiles? Undoubtedly. And they would still be every bit as rewarding as they were then.

She stared into the depths of our souls and spoke more with her eyes than any words could say. She decided when to grace us with her presence, and she decided when it was time to go Home...three years ago today.

She reminded her nurses, doctors, and therapists from every discipline why we chose to enter the professions we did. She taught us to be grateful for every day and every victory. Her momma taught us what unconditional love on earth looks like and what utter dedication means. Her continued strength is inspiring.

Sweet girl, we remember. We promise never to forget what you taught us.

the carpenter

i have been incredibly blessed to have a father and a grandfather who are/were men of virtuous character and unflinching integrity. my grandaddy (dad's dad) went Home to Jesus in March of 2008. since a few months after his death, a couple of lines of poetry have been swirling around in my head. in october, i started trying to figure out what to give my grandmother (the woman who has EVERYTHING), and those few lines sprang to the forefront of my mind. i sat down and scribbled out several verses, trying to sum up the life of an incredible man with a few words. this was the result.

The Carpenter

working the harvest with dad in the heat;
A young man called James, eager to please.
dad speaks as they work of another man's son,
raised as a craftsman 'round nails and wood.
Born to serve others; Jesus loved the condemned,
built a legacy of love, then died for our sins.

The Carpenter's story resonates deep,
and the quiet young man
gives his life to the King.
Caring for widows and others in need;
seeking the orphans and least of these...
heart of a man, reflecting his King.

Holding the hands of the girl he loves;
He pledges his life, to cherish and hold.
With vows and rings, two hearts become one...
She looks in his eyes,
he leans in and smiles,
"'til death do us part..." and he kisses his bride.

gallant young husband, his Faye by his side
enlists and moves north,
Serves his country with pride.
Two years, a new baby, then home to the south.
Shop class and textbooks, purple and gold,
LSU Forestry; geaux Tigers geaux!

Building and woodwork; two of his joys...
but nothing compares to three little boys.
Carpenter's hands cradle newborn sons
Staring in wonder; joy overcomes.
Three little lives, his to teach
To guide to the cross of the carpenter King.

Life moves on for the carpenter and Faye
Boys growing up and moving away.
Holding hands in the sunset,
two rocking chairs sway...
love keeps increasing;
new mercies each day.

Carpenter's hands hold grandbabies close;
watching a legacy of love unfold.
Fireworks and rock piles,
Four-wheeling through trees...
he looks his family; the joy they bring,
and silently praises his Carpenter King.

Carpenter's hands; reaching for Home,
Sweet beulah land he's dreamed of so long...
Standing in awe of the One on His throne
The King gently beckons,
"Well done, my son...
Welcome home."

Mississippi farm boy;
No claim to fame...
But a stone in the ground
Etched with dates and a name
Can never explain the legacy left
By a man named James.