I Am My Mother's Daughter. I Am My Daughter's Mother

Yesterday I stood in front of the Mother’s Day and Graduation card section at Walmart and burst into tears.  Why in the world do they have those cards right beside each other?!  There was no controlling it, I was overcome with a sense of loss and change and deep sadness.  I’ve been trying to hold it together for the past week as I have realized that my role as a Mother and a Daughter has completely turned upside down and inside out; it has changed and because of that I have changed.  And yet, now that my tears have subsided….for now….and I face my first Mother’s Day without my mother and as I prepare my heart to watch my first born graduate I am left contemplating what my Mother and Daughter have taught me, how their lives have helped to shape and mold my own.  These two women (I can’t believe that I am actually referring to my daughter as a “woman”) have had such enormous impacts in my life and I would not be the woman that I am if it weren’t for them.

 I have learned from both Mom and Hannah the fine art of laughing at myself.  Times when I would rather cry or dig a hole to hide in, they have both been an example of how not to take myself too seriously.  Life would be dull and colorless if it weren’t for the spilled coffee or chocolate sauce on our white shirts or the times that we’ve tripped and managed to catch ourselves just before hitting the ground with our faces.  How boring would it be without the toilet paper hanging from our panty hose at weddings, or the times we’ve accidentally found ourselves in the men’s bathroom instead of the women’s?  The ability to laugh at our mistakes and blunders only adds to the beauty of our days, it doesn’t diminish it.

My Mother and Daughter have also each brought music into my life.  I cherish the memories that I have of Mom and I doing dishes together “harmonizing” to “Rocky Top” or “Country Roads”….it wasn’t until I was an adult and able to laugh at myself that I realized that it isn’t really harmonizing when one person isn’t able to carry a tune in a bucket!   I loved it when she would bring out her guitar and sing for the boys and me, or share songs that she and her Dad used to sing together.  I’ll never forget when she introduced me to the music that she loved as a child and a young adult, listening to her old records and singing songs like “Three Wheels On My Wagon” are some of the best and dearest memories my brothers and I have.  The love of music that she and her granddaughter shared was a precious gift to both of them.  I’ll never forget how excited she was when she discovered that she finally had someone to harmonize with!  The days of cleaning up the kitchen had a whole new level of joy once she and Hannah began singing together.  And the music that my sweet daughter has brought into our house has brought immeasurable joy, not to mention the way that her face lights up whenever she is making music or sharing her gift with other people.  The joy she has felt and exudes each time she performs is contagious and blesses my heart.  They both have taught me that you don’t have to have the voice of an angel, or any musical ability at all in order to receive and enjoy the gift of music.

Mom and Hannah have each taught me about grace.  It’s one thing to read about God’s grace or to hear about it in a sermon, but to actually see grace lived out in someone’s life…that is a beautiful thing to experience.  At different times and stages in my life I have been shown and showered with grace by my Mom and my Daughter.  It’s not been so terribly long ago that I can’t remember what being a teenager was like….those years were full of selfishness and insecurities and hurt feelings and hurting other people’s feelings.  Yet through all of my messy and sometimes ugly teenage years I was given grace by a mother that loved me unconditionally and who taught me that my true identity came from the Lord who had created me and gave me gifts and talents and characteristics that made me unique and precious.  I didn’t have to earn her love I just had it.  I learned during those years that no matter how ugly or inadequate I felt, knowing that my Mother loved me and thought that I was beautiful and full of potential was enough for me.  I’ve tried to gift this same grace to Hannah, but more often than not over the last 18 ½ years my daughter has taught me about grace.  Forgiving me when I have failed as a Mom, overlooking my shortcomings and instead focusing on what I’ve done right over the years for she and Kade.  She and her grandmother have always been my biggest supporters and cheerleaders.  Both of them have encouraged me to not let go of my own dreams and goals, but to keep on chasing them.  And they each have shown me the beauty and joy of extending grace to those around me.

 Lastly my Mother and Daughter have shown me the importance of having a right perspective in life.  Because life is hard and messy at times, full of disappointments and sorrow and regret.  But life is also beautiful and full of joy and victories and purpose.  Something that my Mom would always say about herself was that she was an “optimistic realist”.  She wasn’t a Pollyanna, she didn’t look at life like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you just lived the right way or did the right things.  She was a ranch wife….she knew that life could be tough and sometimes not turn out the way that you wanted or expected it to.  But Life was still good and at the end of the day when you go to God with all that you are blessed with, you can’t help but be thankful.   She taught me that all of the hard things in life just kind of fade away in the light of eternity and God’s plan for each of us.  And the fact that the Lord does indeed have the power to work all things together for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28); the realist side of her would say that this doesn’t mean that all things are good, but it does mean that God has the ability to take even the most tragic of circumstances and turn them into something beautiful and useful for our good and His glory.  And Hannah has been such an example of this!  She has faced many great victories but also some pretty tough disappointments in her 18 years.  There have been things that she has worked so hard for and found herself coming up short.  I have watched as she has discovered that she could allow those disappointments to destroy and take away something of value to her, or she could just put her nose to the grindstone, keep on working hard and forge ahead to the next thing, refusing to give up or give in to self-doubt or pity.  I’ve seen how my girl has weighed those disappointments in life on a godly scale, not a worldly one…. determining whether or not in the grand scheme of life it really mattered.  I’ve watched as she has maturely let some things and some people go who have not had a good influence on her soul.  Hannah and my Mom have taught me that life is precious and too short to allow things into our lives that steal joy and keep our character stunted. 

 As I reflect early on this Mother’s Day morning I am struck with the realization that I am the Mother that I am because of these two precious women in my life.  Even though I ache deeply with missing my Mom, and as I prepare my heart to watch my Daughter go out on her own, I am overcome with joy and awe at just how blessed I am.  Happy Mother’s Day to my sweet Mama in heaven and to all of the other women in my life who have blessed me!!

“Her children arise and call her blessed.” Proverbs 31:28

Lessons Learned In Grief

In the last two months I have found myself an unwilling student in the classroom of grief.  It’s not where any of us want to be, and yet at some point in life we will all likely find ourselves in that place; and grief will teach us some hard and cruel lessons. However, I’ve also discovered that there are some lessons that I’ve learned in grief that have served a purpose and have been a blessing rather than a curse.

Ten weeks ago, on June 18^th, I lost my Mother unexpectedly when her horse fell over backwards on top of her while working cattle at our family’s ranch.  I have lost loved ones before in my life, but the sudden loss of my Mom has left me reeling, feeling numb, lost and adrift in a sea of indescribable pain.  In the two months since that Thursday morning phone call I have felt like I’ve been in the middle of that stormy sea and have struggled trying to find my way to shore.  And yet, like so many things in life that are hard and painful I have two choices: I can keep on moving forward and let the grief mold and shape me and my character as well as strengthen and endure my faith in the Lord; or I can allow grief to destroy me.  There are some days that I allow the sadness, regret, anger and fear to take over and I am oh so tempted to just bury my head under the covers and not come up for air.  But I have also discovered through the loss of my mom that she has given me a rich heritage of faith in God’s plans as well as a sense of fortitude that keeps pushing me forward.

Here are some of the lessons that I have learned through this grieving process; it’s a list that I keep adding to as the days go on, a list that I will probably continue adding to over the years as grief continues to teach and change me. But two months later, this is what grief has taught me:

1.)  We all process grief differently.  My father, two brothers and I, as well as the rest of my family have all reacted and responded differently.  My Dad and my brothers were rocks, handling the responsibility of making those oh so very hard phone calls, making most of the funeral arrangements, calling in friends, family and neighbors to help with cattle work that couldn’t wait.  They were hurting and upset, but they were calm, as was my sister-in-law and niece when they showed up at my door that morning.  My husband was also a calming presence, holding me and holding our children while our world - while his world was collapsing.  When Dad called me early that morning to tell me, I lost all sense of peace and calmness.  My mind could not rationalize what my father was telling me.  I couldn’t breathe.  I was sick to my stomach. I felt like someone had hit me over the head with a hammer.  While others were making decisions around me I was just trying to breath.  

Now, in the months following I have found that in order to get through this grief I need to have lots of time with God, praying, writing, reading His Word.  I need to keep life and death in their proper perspective.  My Aunt led me to the book “Heaven” by Randy Alcorn, and I have found so much comfort and peace in this book because it leads me to what Scripture says about heaven.  I know that ultimately, although I’ve “lost” my mom, I haven’t really because I know exactly where she is and I know that because of our salvation through Jesus Christ, I will see her again someday in a place that is more glorious and amazing than anything we know here on earth. (My mom always hated the terms “passed away” or “lost”….she preferred just cutting to the chase and saying that ‘someone died’ or to say that they had "gone home"….it makes me giggle now about how adamant she was that we not say either of these two things when she died.  Death did not scare her one little bit because of her belief and trust in God and His plan for eternity).

 

 

2.)  Heartache is a real thing.  I’m not talking about the idea of heartache…. I’m talking about the literal ache in your heart.  It is an intense, sharp, and overwhelming pain that my heart felt, especially in the days that followed my Mom’s death, and that even plagues me occasionally still.  It totally caught me off guard how physical grief was; I felt like someone had their fist around my heart and was squeezing the life out of it.  I truly wondered if I was going to follow right behind Mom and join her in heaven, the pain was that intense.  I walked around with my hand over my heart saying, “It just hurts so bad.”  There is a reason why it's called “heartbreak”, you actually feel like your heart is breaking in two. 

3.)  We can’t do grief alone; we need to let others come alongside us.  All that I did know to do in that instant was to start calling in reinforcements because all of a sudden I was paralyzed and couldn’t put one foot in front of the other much less make any kind of decision.  Two of my best friends as well as two pastors from our church dropped everything that they were doing and came immediately.  I don’t know what I would have done without them, they helped my kids pack their bags, they packed my bags, thinking about all that I would possibly need in the days ahead.  They followed me around in my dazed state and made me eat and drink and sit down.  They made phone calls for me.  They prayed over me.  My precious friend Deb sat beside my bed with me and wept.  My sweet friend Roxanne drove the kids and I to Lusk so that Mike could tie up loose ends at home before leaving.  She never stopped praying for me the whole way.  I began receiving phone calls and texts from family and friends.  I don’t know how I survived that first day because everything is such a blur, but I do know that I was able to because of the people that surrounded me.  Friends and neighbors began to circle around Dad and the boys and I, helping with things on the ranch, bringing food, offering all kinds of help.   Our family began arriving and showering us with so much love and care that we were overwhelmed.  Everyone's kind words and love covered us all like a warm quilt. 

There were times over the next several days, however, when I needed to remove myself from everyone else and be alone.  I would sometimes find myself as fragile as spun glass, feeling that if one more person hugged me or said a kind word to me telling me how sorry they were, I was going to break.  Those moments were fleeting though and I did discover that grief most certainly cannot be faced alone. I’ve just had to learn when I’ve reached that point where I feel fragile and need to escape; and I’ve discovered that after a time of quiet retreat I am then ready to face people.

 

 

 

4.)  I've learned that grief is exhausting.  In the days that followed my mom’s death I was overwhelmed with all of the decisions that had to be made, with things on the ranch that still needed to be taken care of, with people that needed to be called, arrangements that needed to be made and on top of all of it dealing with the anguish of losing the most important woman in my life.  Again, it felt like I was in the middle of a raging sea; in the beginning the waves were enormous and kept slamming me to the ground.  I felt like I was continually fighting them, just trying to come up for air.  I couldn’t sleep or eat or think or breath and had to take things one step at a time, one minute at a time.  As the weeks went on the waves became smaller and less frequent, but they still hit at unexpected times, knocking me down and taking my breath away.  I have learned to just ride the waves with the knowledge that it won’t last and I can trust that ultimately God is in control of the sea and He won’t let me drown.

I also had to learn to “be kind to myself”.  That was such a hard concept for me, but something that people told me over and over again....I didn’t realize that I was being unkind to myself!  But I discovered that it meant being patient with me and making sure that I was taking care of myself and my most basic needs.  I had to figure out how to get enough sleep, force myself to eat even if I didn’t feel like it, escape to a quiet corner of the house - even if it was just the bathroom - when I was starting to feel like things were closing in on me.  I had to grab my Bible and begin searching for scripture that was going to calm my spirit.  I've had to be patient with myself and ask my family to be patient with me in the weeks and months that have followed because my sadness isn’t letting up.  I know that it has an effect on Mike and the kids, but I can’t fake being ok when I’m really not.  I've needed to give myself time and realize that grief doesn’t have a timetable; it’ll take as long as it takes and I just need to let it happen.

 

 

5.)  Grief will hit you at the most unexpected times.  A picture, a smell or a memory are triggers for the grief to return with a vengeance. What I’ve discovered is that it can be anything; certain foods that Mom made or just loved, the sight of decaf instant Folgers coffee (because that was her drink of choice), a book that she loaned me, a sweater that she wore.  Being in her home or her favorite places on the ranch have taken on a different feeling for me now because it hurts.  State Fair was hard because everywhere I went I was reminded of her, seeing so many people that she would have loved catching up with, checking out the booths on the Midway, eating at our favorite spots, hearing her give Hannah words of encouragement, having her take Kade for a few hours to a couple of days so that they could enjoy their usual favorite spots. When my kids went back to school this week I had two days that I allowed the grief to wash over me because it was too quiet and I missed our phone calls that happened so often after they had left the house.  Those phone calls and uninterrupted visits with my mother were a lifeline to me.  The urge to call her was so unbelievably strong, I had to keep reminding myself that she wasn’t there to call anymore.  In the quiet moments of my day my mind will start thinking about all of the milestones that are ahead of us that she is not going to be here for and I am overcome with such an intense longing that all I can do is let the tears fall. 

I get that certain dates, celebrations and occasions are going to be hard to face without my Mom, what I didn’t realize is that sometimes grief will catch me completely unaware and hit me like a freight train…..at the most inconvenient of times.  Like the other day while I was in Walmart, something as simple as shopping…all of a sudden I was thinking of all of the times that we shopped together because we were so similar and both hated shopping.  We would fill our carts but then inevitably when we would get to the checkout counter we would decide that about a third of what was in our cart was unnecessary and give them back to the checkout person to put away. The tears came right there in the middle of the toilet paper aisle, the realization that I was never going to experience Walmart shopping with my mother ever again.

I’ve learned to just welcome the tears, no matter when or where or who I am with, to just let them flow and if someone asks if I am ok, to be honest and say “No, I really miss my Mom.” 

 

6.)  There is freedom in grief.  I was given a book by a dear friend at church about understanding grief; in this book C.S. Lewis was quoted from his book “A Grief Observed”, he said about his experience after the death of his wife, “An odd by-product of my loss is that I’m aware of being an embarrassment to everyone I meet….Perhaps the bereaved ought to be isolated in special settlements like lepers.”  Sometimes I think that our society tries to encourage us to just push through our grief as quickly as we can; I think that this is in part because we don’t want someone else’s grief to touch us.  We don’t want to see people sad, or upset, or crying so hard that they are a blubbering, snotty mess.  We would rather say “Wow, he/she is so strong.  They are really getting through their loss so well”, and then go on about our lives. In our culture I think that we try to avoid pain of any kind at all costs, wanting to bury it or ignore it.   I think this because this was how I thought before my mom’s death. As a result we are ashamed if our grief is too much, if it affects those around us, if it goes on for too long, if it’s too emotional or demonstrative.  We think that we should have better control of our grief instead of it controlling us.  But the fact of the matter is that grief hurts, and the first step in healing from it is to allow ourselves to feel the pain.  It does a burn victim no good to just ignore his burns, he has to go through a very long and painful healing process until scar tissue forms and eventually becomes less painful and less obvious.  The same is true for grief.  The painful process is part of the healing.  If we don’t allow ourselves to go through the process then we won’t have freedom, we will remain prisoners of grief.

 

 

 

7.)  God does not waste grief.  I have learned that 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 is absolute truth: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”  Two of my best friends lost their mothers just months before I lost mine, and one of my best friends lost her father and her mother-in-law in the past year. I also have many dear friends who have lost a parent over the years.  My husband still hurts from the death of my sweet mother-in-law, Barb.   I hurt for them at the times of their losses, but my compassion for each of them has multiplied since losing my own mother.  And the love and compassion that they each shared with me is something that I can’t even put words to; it’s a compassion that moves into empathy because they actually feel the pain along with me, they don’t have to imagine what I am going through, they KNOW what I am going through.

God does not waste our grief.  I know that my Mom would not want this grief to be destructive in any of our lives.  She would want us to give it to God and allow Him to use it to glorify Him and to honor her life.  Grief is so unbearably hard, and yet there have been so many beautiful moments of joy and blessing that I have experienced since the loss of my beautiful, sweet Mom.  I think that I am feeling things more sharply, seeing things more clearly because I realize that life is so unbelievably precious and so fragile and can’t be taken for granted. 

Our loved ones may not be here tomorrow for us to tell and to show how much they mean to us.  I have found myself measuring time now based on the day that my Mom left us, and I also gauge time by how many days/weeks/ months it’s been since I last talked to her.  How many days have gone by since the last time I saw her face and felt the warmth of her hug.  If I had known that she would be gone on the morning of June 18^th, would I have done or said anything different?  You bet I would….actually I would have just said more…..and yet I know that I can’t rewind time as much as I’d like to. So I have come to the realization that what grief teaches me is that I don’t take any of my relationships for granted.  I am going to love hard and completely, I never miss an opportunity to say “I love you”, or “I appreciate you”, or “I am here for you” because death is real and could happen at any given moment.  I don’t want the pain of death to be because I have regrets.  I have experienced that one of the reasons that the death of a loved one is so incredibly painful is because we love so incredibly much.  That’s what I want grief to teach me. 

 

Jana M. Fraley

Mother's Day Tribute

What a great Mother's Day I've had!  My family has made me feel like a queen, and I've loved every minute of it!  I truly feel like the Proverbs 31 Woman whose children arise and bless her and whose husband praises her.  Thanks guys for making my job as a mom & wife so incredible, I can't imagine anything else being more important!

 One of the reasons that I feel like I can work towards being a Proverbs 31 Woman is because I was raised by one!  My mom, Jody White, is as close to fitting the description of this woman of virtuous character as I will ever find.  My mother is a loving, hard-working ranch wife, mother & grandmother who has taught me so many valuable things, the most important of which is how to prioritize my life: the Lord first and foremost, my husband second, children third & everyone else after that.  She's taught me how to enjoy the simple things in life & how to appreciate and learn from the really difficult things.  She's a living example of love in action, loving her husband, children, grandchildren and friends fiercely & tenderly at the same time.  She always puts our needs above her own, showing Jesus' love to us each time that she chooses love & humility over her own rights.

I owe who I am as a wife, mother, daughter, friend and woman to the almost 40 years of life lessons that my mother has taken the time to teach me:

Make the choice to respond to those who do & say mean things to you by "killing them with kindness".

Honey will always get you further than vinegar!

Fresh air and sunshine is the cure-all for everything from tummy aches & headaches to heartaches.

Life may not be fair, but it'll all come out in the wash!

Always remember that it is more valuable to be beautiful on the inside than on the outside.

Your talents are God's gift to you, what you do with those talents is your gift to God!

Attitude may not change difficult situations, but it sure can make them easier to handle!

  I can remember that awkward time of my life when I felt ugly, unloved & unimportant.  I felt that way for a very short period because my mom had the gift of turning it around & making me feel loved, beautiful, and accepted.  She has always been my biggest cheerleader and encourager when it came to working towards my dreams and goals.  We both share a love for writing and I know that she will never allow me to let that dream lie dormant.  One of my favorite parts of going back home is spending time with my mom in the corral!  Doing chores, discussing life & dreams and getting dirty, I love it and so does she!  My mom is also my "Titus Woman" as she is the driving force in my decision to give my life to Jesus.  Her love and desire to serve Him was a beautiful thing that I desired for myself.  Our relationship with the Lord is one of the greatest gifts that we share. 

I owe so much of who I am and what I have been able to accomplish, as well as the dangers I was able to avoid, to the prayers of my mother.  She is committed to praying for her husband, her children, grandchildren, & friends.  I know that someday when I am in heaven, God will have a storeroom full of all of my mothers prayers and I will be amazed.  The Proverbs 31 Woman describes my mother far better than I can.  This is from The Message.  I love the wording of it :

 A good woman is hard to find,
   and worth far more than diamonds.
Her husband trusts her without reserve,
   and never has reason to regret it.
Never spiteful, she treats him generously
   all her life long.
She shops around for the best yarns and cottons,
   and enjoys knitting and sewing.
She's like a trading ship that sails to faraway places
   and brings back exotic surprises.
She's up before dawn, preparing breakfast
   for her family and organizing her day.
She looks over a field and buys it,
   then, with money she's put aside, plants a garden.
First thing in the morning, she dresses for work,
   rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started.
She senses the worth of her work,
   is in no hurry to call it quits for the day.
She's skilled in the crafts of home and hearth,
   diligent in homemaking.
She's quick to assist anyone in need,
   reaches out to help the poor.
She doesn't worry about her family when it snows;
   their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear.
She makes her own clothing,
   and dresses in colorful linens and silks.
Her husband is greatly respected
   when he deliberates with the city fathers.
She designs gowns and sells them,
   brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops.
Her clothes are well-made and elegant,
   and she always faces tomorrow with a smile.
When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say,
   and she always says it kindly.
She keeps an eye on everyone in her household,
   and keeps them all busy and productive.
Her children respect and bless her;
   her husband joins in with words of praise:
"Many women have done wonderful things,
   but you've outclassed them all!"
Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades.
   The woman to be admired and praised
   is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God.
Give her everything she deserves!
   Festoon her life with praises!

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you wonderful moms out there; whether you be stay-at-home moms, working moms, mothers of young children, teenagers, or adult children.  To you grandmothers who have such a role in the lives of our kids, and for those mothers who may have never had a child in your womb but are a blessing to countless children of your heart.  God loves you all!!!

12th Birthdays and Braving Slumber Parties

Hannah Mac turned 12 on August 29^th, and this birthday marked a first for me in the endeavors of motherhood; a slumber party involving 7 young girls ages 9 to 12.  Now let me precede this with the reasons why I have not attempted a slumber party up to this point: First of all, I am easily over-stimulated and our house is small, a one level ranch-style home, with Hannah’s room directly across from ours.  Imagining the amount of noise that a group of pre-teen girls can make is very frightening to me!  Second of all Mike and I like to sleep, and we are the early to bed type, I know what goes on at these slumber parties, and “slumber” isn’t high on the list of activities!  And last of all, what in the world do you do w/ a group of 4^th to 7^th grade girls to keep them entertained and all getting along?  I tell you slumber parties have always been on my list of most frightening experiences; I have always had the utmost respect & admiration for those moms who host slumber parties on a regular basis, but I am not one of them. 

     And then Hannah turned 12 and requested a slumber party; what choice did I have when this girl of mine, who rarely requests anything, specifically asked for a slumber party?  So I laid aside my fears and called my best friend Erika.  Erika is the Queen of kid parties of any kind, including those for pre-adolescent, giggly, emotional young girls; I needed her support as well as any and all ideas that she could give me!

     This ended up being a 24-hour birthday party, complete with a treasure hunt, a variety show, ice cream sundaes, and ending with a day at the lake.  I survived it, and more than that I thoroughly enjoyed it. I don’t know how soon it’ll be before I’m ready for another one, but I think that I am now brave enough to try it again.

I planned on writing something sentimental and insightful about my little girl becoming another year older, and then I found a treasure as Hannah and I were looking through her 1^st Year Scrapbook.  It was an article that my mother wrote right after Hannah was born and right before my 26^th birthday for her column “At Home on the Range with Jody”.  It brought tears to my eyes and I thought that this would be appropriate to share with all of you now, 12 years later:

      “A New Grandma Reflects” by Jody White

     It seems like just yesterday that the doctor held you up for me to see and announced “It’s a girl”, or that I held you in my arms and rocked you while looking into those beautiful blue eyes and just loving you so much, thanking God that He had given you to us. 

     Jana, we remember your first tooth, and your first day of kindergarten.  Your father and I remember, along with your first tooth and kindergarten, your first pair of cowboy boots, and your first horse, very important rites of passage in the life of a ranch kid.  And we remember our reaction the night you told us you were asked on your very first date.  And all those subsequent nights after, that I stayed up waiting for you so we could talk.  I remember pigtails and toothless grins, proms, boyfriends, queen try-outs, victories and disappointments, and your high school graduation.  And your dad especially remembers that day when Mike asked for your hand in marriage.  What a sweet and old-fashioned thing to do.  And then a wedding; I especially remember when the pastor asked “And who gives this bride away?”  And your dad, with tears in his eyes, answered, “Her mother, her brothers and I do”.  A bittersweet time.  But in return we got a wonderful son-in-law and the knowledge that our daughter was going to be very well loved.  And loved not only by her husband but by his family too.

     And now as I look down at the little bundle in my arms and into bottomless blue eyes, very much like her mother’s, something indescribable wells up inside me.  Her tiny fingers wrap tightly around my own, and in that little gesture she wraps herself securely around my heart.

     Little Hannah, I hope you realize how well and how completely you are loved.  You are, shall I say very snugly wrapped in family.  From Grandmas and Grandpas, Great Grandmas and Grandpas, aunts and uncles, cousins, Godparents, and of course your Mommy and Daddy, you are loved.  Even the little community you live in, where you have been nicknamed “Holy Hannah!!” has welcomed you with open arms.  I wonder how old you will be when either your Grandpa White or your Grandpa Fraley puts you on a horse to move cattle?

     You know I also think back to when your mother told me after reading the book “Mrs. Mike” for the third time, that someday she was going to be a Mrs. Mike.  And who would ever have thought that that’s exactly what would happen!  Amazing! I am also amazed as I watch your Grandpa kiss and fuss over you, or Joel and Coby scoop you up in their arms, feed and change you.  Are these my men??  What wonderful qualities you have brought out in them.  And it has given me a glimpse into what they might be as fathers.  Thank you for the sneak preview. 

     And to think I’m a Grandma.  A Grandma!!  Wow!  What an awesome responsibility.  And although your mother and I thought you were a “Hank” right up to delivery, we couldn’t be more tickled that you’re a Hannah!”