Tag Archives: Sister Love


Butterfly by Trudy Ann WyattBy God’s grace and a bunch of really good people right here, I am standing in the sunshine of gratitude.  And today can be about celebrating Trudy and the many gifts she shared with us.

Including one of her butterflies that’ll I’ll share with you.  And a poem shared with me by a friend earlier this week.

Live life, love and have fun. I am pretty sure this is what Trudy would like for me to do.  With love.  Today. Continue reading Today

Sunshine Slides of Spirit

I finally said it out loud yesterday – that I am missing Trudy and wishing she were here.  The sentiments and sorrows have been coming on again, and as natural as they are, they still surprise me with striking chords of bittersweet pain.  Pain in not having my sister and parents here; leveled remembrances of all the emotional twist uniquely found in familial love.

Thank God for the sun today.   Continue reading Sunshine Slides of Spirit

“I didn’t need a thing.”

Trudy and Theresa little house 720x720I hesitate to write about this being the second anniversary of being with my sister as she prepared to leave. I hesitate to stir the waters; what emotions might come to the surface could drown me again. But I can not resist sharing a few sweet memories of Trudy – one being a phrase my husband recently recalled as one of Trudy’s signature messages on our machine.

“I didn’t need a thing”, she’d say with her soft, lilting and smiling voice. It was one of her ways of just checking in; sending over a little kite of love.

I miss Sis. But then, who wouldn’t, and doesn’t? Only those folks who didn’t get to meet her at least once.

Lake Views: a Tribute to Vernie

First written August 11, 2011 at Katy Lake – reposted here in tribute to Vernie.

We never finish crying over the loss of our parents.  We only stop.

The first morning here at the lake, with Vicki’s parents having just finished fixing us a full breakfast of eggs, bacon and homemade chocolate cookies, I found myself weeping with bittersweet memories of my farmhouse, my parents, my own morning-time-family-time that has now been gone for around a dozen years.  The weeping that started with telling Les how good it felt to hug Mr. McWhirter this morning ramped up to unbridled tears as I expressed both the awe and the sadness in being a part of a family again – with parents as elders who are still in charge and in care of the children. 

To have a mother figure cooking, doting, even at times obsessively concerning herself with my food needs and choices; to have a father figure still healthy enough to be the captain (literally) of the ship (well, slow moving barge) with shoulders broad enough to brace us against frightening things of nature (thunderstorms) while also providing a small, tender, safe place to coddle a new baby at the community fish fry. Continue reading Lake Views: a Tribute to Vernie