Maureen Time | Kyla Thompson

2 years ago, Taylor, Kyla, Katelyn, Maureen and I were all in Chicago. We had a grand time, watching a Cubs baseball game and a Northwestern football game. We had Chicago style pizza, visited our first apartment, our first house, and the church in which Maureen and I were married. Tomorrow marks the 23rd #powdereddonutday since Maureen’s passing on October 21, 2014, and the 24th since this joyous family weekend. As a family, we’ve decided the true first #powdereddonutday was tomorrow, the day Maureen and I renewed our vows at the altar of St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church, with our children by our sides. Typically, on #powdereddonutday, I share my words, however, today, I share Kyla’s. A little something she wrote in 7th grade. Maureen Time | 7th Grade | November 2014 My mom was born on April 28, 1964, weighed 7 1⁄2 pounds, was 26 in. tall, and was born in Antwerp, Belgium. Upon her passing, my mom was 6 ft. 1 in., had brown eyes, and weighed 147 pounds, having slipped from 160 due to her cancer. She was as tall as a giraffe on good days. 37 years later, after her birth, I was born in Austin, Texas, was 8 pounds 12 oz. My favorite memory of my mom was when she was pregnant with my little sister, Katelyn. She was like an angel from heaven. My parents went in for a check up like every mother would do when they are pregnant, but they got different news. They took a biopsy and told her she had breast cancer. Like anyone with cancer, they said, “lets find the...

The Love of My Life | Returning from Memphis. Returning to Dragonflies.

As we prepared for our “house photo” with the Carters and our homeowners at the build site at the 33rd Annual Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter Work Project in Memphis with Habitat for Humanity, our house leader made an innocuous comment. “Look at all the dragonflies.” Then, last week, sitting at my favorite Chick-Fil-A in West Lake, there was another dragonfly, fluttering, perched on the window sill right by my table. Looking at me. A few days later, driving away from our home, there was another dragonfly. This time on my windshield. Almost guiding me forward. Out of the driveway. Into my day. As I noted in my post on my way to Memphis with our son, Taylor, for a week with Habitat for Humanity from August 20-27, as we approach the 2 year mark of the passing of the love of my life, my Maureen, I’ve come to realize that my life is heading into a “new normal.” Each day is not only one more day without the love of my life by my side, but each day is a new day of a new life. A life informed by Maureen and my love. Like the dragonfly, I am being forced in see in new ways. With new eyes. With new facets. I will admit it is hard. I have always been open about my grief and about my journey. I do this both for the therapeutic effect it has for me, as well as to be vulnerable in a way that may be useful to a fellow journeyer through life, whether they have lost a loved one or...