My Sweet Laken

Our oldest, Laken Julia, got a work promotion and moved to Loveland, Colorado (3 hours from us) at the end of April of this year.  She's an introvert and doesn't make friends very easily.  She's got to get to know someone really well before she'd call them friend, and she just doesn't put herself out there to really meet anyone.  She spends most of her time at work, but she can't really form any friendships there as it's frowned upon.  So, she's lonely all the way up there.  Whenever she has at least a day and a half off or more, she comes to see us.  She took a week of vacation and spent it all with us.  I'm so thankful that she wants to spend her free time with us.  She came to visit this weekend for the Pueblo Chile and Frijoles Festival, and as always, when she left it was absolutely heart-wrenching.  About a half hour before she has to leave, we all start to feel sick at our stomachs and the bawling starts.  Reminds me of when I leave my sweet sisters behind or vice versa.  Today, I hugged her forever.  I wanted to tell her to quit that *&%$! job and move home.  She must have been reading my mind . . .  She said, "Only six more months until my apartment lease is up and I can request a transfer closer to home."  Home.  I can't wait.  I miss my Lakey Juldie . . .  <3

I'm a blogger?!?!?

Well, I have been kicking this blogging idea around for a while . . .  I don't exactly know what I'll blog about, but apparently, I'm not going to let that stop me . . . 

It's 2:52 p.m., and my 20-year-old daughter, Eden, just made us each a cuppa tea and is baking scones . . .  She's now digging through my basket of fave DVDs for something for us to watch together for a few hours.  It doesn't really matter to me what she chooses . . .  I'm kind of ambivalent about life lately . . .   Well, not really "lately" -- I can date my ambivalence to February 14, 2010 -- the date of my mum's sudden death.  She had been living with my family, and she just didn't wake up that morning.  And although I'm not sobbing every minute of the day at this point, I still strongly feel the effects of that loss.  I don't make lists any more.  I used to love to make lists.  Lists were a highlight in my life.  I don't follow through on anything any more.  I mean, I "finish" things, but not well, usually.  So, consequently, I try not to start things that are not absolutely necessary to every day life (you know, like knitting projects or books), so that finishing them won't be an issue.

I'm not looking for sympathy here . . .  And I'm not really looking for advice, because I already know what I need to do.  After all, I have six children -- four of whom who are under 18.  I don't really share much of this with my husband, although he'd be happy to listen.  He's just also happy to try to "fix" the situation.  And I know that he feels the effects of my loss, as well. 

I'd covet the prayers of anyone who chooses to read this.  And I promise that not all of my posts will be so . . . well, like this one.