I'm sitting here at home with all of the currently-normal things going on: It's cold and grey out; I found out that I didn't get another job; and I have a list of errands to run (mostly the ones I didn't do yesterday). But the day itself is different from most.
A great friend of my parents--and of our whole family--passed away last weekend after fighting a long and drawn-out battle with cancer. In fact, with the help of modern medicine and old-fashioned hard work and prayer, she had been beating it for a while. But then the side effects of the chemotherapy started to take their toll and finally tipped the battle.
MaryAnn was an amazing woman. She and her husband lived on a farm in rural South Dakota, raising 5 incredible kids along with the livestock, crops and chickens. When we would visit them back when I was a kid, I remember being thrilled because we'd get to hang out in the basement, or go swing on a rope in the hayloft (just don't tell our parents!), or even go out to pick eggs from under the chickens.
It's strange. I don't so much know anything about her, but I know what being near her was like. She gave hugs, but it was the look in her eye that let you know life was okay. She cooked incredible barbecued pork. She was kind and gracious, but also a mom with rules. And even up until a few months ago, she and her husband Gerald have been globetrotting around to see their kids and grandkids.
So today I sit at home, hoping that the weather was good in South Dakota for the funeral. Hoping that their family is doing okay. Hoping that... well... I guess just...
Hoping...
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