Two Kinds of Tears

I have never blogged from my phone. Don't know if it works or not. We'll see.

Today was my Aunt Millie's funeral. We spent last night greeting friends and family members. We shed a few tears.

Today, we said goodbye. I cried.

But I realized something as I was sitting there, crying.

As sad as I was about my aunt dying, I was doing some "delayed" mourning for my friend, Beth. Death always makes me sad. Seeing people mourn is difficult.

I played for a funeral a few weeks ago. I was sad for this family - but not knowing the man, I was somewhat able to detach myself from the grief.

Today - not so much. I grieved. And it was *my* grief.

But I have hope. And, as the pastor said today, death without hope is just that...hope-less. Death with hope means sadness, yes. But it also means rejoicing. It means that we acknowledge that we will, and do miss them...but we will see them again - someday.

And that is why, though I shed tears - they were not hopeless, sorrowful tears. They were....different.

. . .I still lost all my mascara, though.

Back Home Again. . . .

I really am not that familiar with the song, "Back Home Again in Indiana," other than I know that it is sung (usually by Jim Nabors) before the start of the Indianapolis 500 on Memorial Day Weekend. But, for the next 40-48 hours, it will be my theme song.

My Great-Aunt Millie died on Sunday afternoon. She was old. (I know that sounds so harsh) But, she had lived a very long life. She spent the last number of years in a nursing home. From what we were told, she quietly finished her lunch on Sunday, and fell asleep and woke up in heaven.

She had been a widow for many years. I vaguely remember when her husband passed away, but I was either in middle school or high school. (Maybe even elementary school??) So, for almost as long as I can remember her - she was by herself. They never had any children.

She wasn't alone. My grandmother, aunt, and great uncle all lived near each other in Southern Indiana. (Evansville area, to be exact) My dad and one of his cousins were especially close to Aunt Millie. I believe she even helped support Dad some as he went back to college in the mid-80s.

She was so very sweet -- and she had a sweet smile and the quirkiest "southern" accent. It was a southern Indiana accent, which is very different from the southern accent we hear in these parts. My sister can still do an amazing knock-off of Aunt Millie talking about the "Church of the Nazarene," and we break into fits of laughter every time she does it.

Things I remember:
She was a long-time member of the Nazarene church.
She was a devoted follower and avid watcher of Billy Graham.
She always kept an orderly, simple home.
She always had a cloth calendar than hung in her dining room/laundry room.
She always called my dad "Jimmy."

And, although I haven't seen her in a long, long time, I mourn her passing. But, because she immediately went to be with Jesus, I am rejoicing. I know death is a part of life. Sometimes I think I have come to grips with that. Other times, not so much.

Tomorrow morning (Tuesday) Edison and I will travel with my parents to Indiana. We will attend a visitation service. We will attend a funeral service. We will take part in an interment service. Then, on Wednesday, following the funeral and interment, we will drive home.

While there, I hope to show Edison some of his heritage. I want him to see where my parents, and their parents were born and raised. I want him to experience a little of what I experienced during visits to the "Watermelon Capital of the World" otherwise known as Gibson County, Indiana.

I want to re-introduce him to his great-aunt & uncle (my dad's sister & brother-in-law) who still live in Indiana. He met them many years ago. He needs to meet them again.

So we will travel. I have some stitchery projects to take along with me. I have synced my mp3 player with my two new Darius Rucker CDs that I received for Christmas. I have a couple of books that I have been wanting to read (two out of a very tall pile, mind you).

I'm taking my son.
Back home to my home state. (Even though I only lived there a couple years)

Back home again in Indiana

And it seems that I can see

The gleaming candlelight, still shining bright

Thru the sycamores for me

The new mown hay sends all its fragrance

From the fields I used to roam

When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash

Then I long for my Indiana home

I will remember and reflect on a life well-lived. And we will rejoice, through tears, for her homecoming to the home she's been longing to see.

Beulah land ... I'm longing for you,
And, some day, on thee I'll stand;
There my home shall be eternal.
Beulah land ... sweet Beulah land.

Rest in peace, Aunt Millie. You were a wonderful aunt, and a beautiful example of a devoted Christ follower. I'll see you one day. . . .

From Our House to Yours. . . .

We want to wish you a very Merry Christmas!

May you be surrounded and embraced by those you love. May the joy of family and friends fill your heart with delight.

May you be like a child - caught up in the wonder and magic of the season.

May your surprises be good ones. But mostly. . . .may you remember the reason we celebrate:

"So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told." (Luke 2:4-20)

Merry Christmas from the Aubrey family!!!

Way too fast. . . .

These two kids of mine are growing up far too fast, in my opinion. I marvel when I look back and realize how quickly time is going by.

Someone, slow it down. Please?!?!?

All we are saying. . . . .

Sorry, couldn't help but quote John & Yoko on such a monumental night.

Caroline loves peas.

We had no clue.

Tonight's dinner was simple: Roasted Chicken (very tasty), Baked Potatoes, Green Peas, and Cranberry Sauce. Yes, I know. . .I know. . .peas are considered starches. There was nothing inherently healthy about them -- except that they are beautifully green.



I love them.
Mark and Edison? Not so much.

I love them in Pea Salad (miracle whip, cashews, cheddar cheese)



I love them in 24-Hour Layered Salad (lettuce, peas, cheese, red onion, celery, green pepper, bacon, etc.)



I'm not such a big fan of split-pea soup.


And I loathe the "Army-green" peas that come out of a can.

(I think I just threw up a little in my mouth)

But, I love peas.

We noticed that Caroline, very quietly, was using the proper utensils to shove the peas into her mouth. (In my defense, they were exceptionally good peas) But, we really didn't expect this from her.

Our reaction? The silent gestures that said, "Did you see that?" and "Shhhh, don't say anything -- she might stop!"

But, she didn't.

She...ate...every...single...last...pea...on...her...plate.

I credit Veggie Tales. . . .



. . .now if I could just get her to eat squash!!

Happy Birthday, Beth. . . .

Happy Birthday, Beth. Under normal circumstances, I would have called - and the kids (or at least Caroline) would have sung that familiar birthday tune to you.

I know your family is missing you today. (They've missed you every day since you left) They're remembering you, and the joy that you brought to every day.

Your friends are missing you today, too. We remember and celebrate a life lived to the very fullest -- to the very end. (Which was all-too-soon)

In honor of your birthday, God is giving us snow. You would have loved this. What started as tiny, little delicate flakes has turned into bigger, puffier flakes. I expect that the ground will eventually be covered.

And then, all by myself, I'll sing you a birthday tune. . . .because I know how much you loved the snow, and the significant imagery that it brought your heart.

Thanks for telling me about it. . . .I always liked snow. Now, I love it.





I miss you. Just in case you wondered.

To Bake or Not to Bake. . . .

this year, that is the question.

I'm not opposed to holiday baking, per se. In fact, I quite enjoy it. I'm just afraid that I'll do a mammoth amount of baking, and then the treats won't go any further than my living room.

Not a good plan.

If I do bake - and I'm sure I will bake something this season.. . . (For heaven's sake, we need something to set out for Santa Claus!) it will most likely be a reduced list from previous years.

Here's what I've done in the past:

Molasses Cookies
Sugar Cookies (cut out - and drop)
Gingerbread Men
Coconut Bonbons (these are amazing)
Austrian Chocolate Balls
Candy Cane Cookies
Snickerdoodles
Fudge
Peanut Butter Fudge
Microwave Peanut Brittle
Thumbprints
Shortbread
Biscotti

There are lots of things I've made in the past . . . .but this year, I really don't want to bake a ton of cookies - unless they're going out the door to someone else.

I'll work on this. Maybe I can send a tray to Mark's work. I don't want to bring a tray to my work -- it's a church, and lots of people end up bringing us stuff. We don't need it.

I don't know. . . I have to think about this for a while.

Results of my thinking to follow. . . .

Be Still. . . . .

I have trouble with this. I don't find myself being "still" very often. In fact, when find myself running in 15 different directions, I wonder when I'll ever find time to slow down, or even (gasp!) stop.

Today - I was reminded of this while driving through town. Mind you, this has felt like a week where all I've done is drive. I've been chauffeur, taxi driver, and a delivery service this week. I even let Edison drive into South Knoxville on a very busy, dangerous road -- at night just as it had begun raining -- so I've not sat still for very long.

But today, while driving home from the grocery store (had to get groceries for tonight's staff Christmas party), I came upon a "new" stoplight that will soon be installed about a mile from our house. It's going to make things interesting for the first couple of weeks, but it's going to make things safer in the long run.

Regardless. I was at the light. There was one car coming - but I could've turned ahead of him. For some reason, that little voice told me not to do so.

Note: This is not one of those "angel on the shoulder" moments, where I just missed a car wreck -- don't get excited.

It was just actually an opportunity to stop. To be still. To wait. I actually consciously took a breath while I waited for the car. And, can I admit this?

I enjoyed just sitting there, waiting.

Why am I sharing this? Because I have this sneaking suspicion that I'm not the only one that is always in some state of motion. Don't get me wrong -- there's nothing wrong with being busy. There's nothing wrong with movement. In fact, I'm trying that familiar eat less, move more way of life. There's nothing wrong with moving.

But, trust me -- there's also nothing wrong with being still.