Butterflies

Soon after Darrell's passing, I received a beautiful greeting card in the mail.  It reads:  God works through you in beautiful ways.  He's always putting you where He needs you to be.  And you're always doing what He needs you to do.  He gives you strength and you reach out to help those who need a hand.  He gives you love and you bless others with your caring heart.  Best of all, He's given you and your friendship to me.  And that's the most beautiful blessing anyone could ask for.  Thanks for all your helpful ways.

Inside the card, Mom wrote:  Dear Shawn & Misty, I can't begin to tell you both how much we truly appreciate all you did during Darrell's illness.  All of the "Sam's runs" for Darrell & most of all for the many visits and letting me cry on your precious shoulders so many times!  I know you both loved him as he did you both too.  I could never have made it without y'all.  May God bless you both each day and we love you both!  --Mom & Dad


I had barely began reading it before I started sobbing.  I even told Mom that I'm not one for keeping greeting cards, but this one was surely a keeper.  Occasionally she would call me at work and ask if I could pick up something at Sam's.  Of course she would tell me not to go out of my way, only if I happened to be going, yada, yada.  On the outside I would be like it's not big deal and inside I would silently, secretly grouch about the giant box store and suddenly catch myself.  I would tell myself, Don't you dare complain about a few things from the store--you have it easy!  That was in the beginning.  As I grew up, I offered to pick up things from the grocery store for Mom, not just Darrell's cigarettes and cases of apple juice.  I'd buy her sugar free chocolate covered peanuts because I knew it was her favorite little treat and stuff like that just may help a person get through the day.

I'm not trying to brag on myself at all.  I'm trying to explain what a person can do for another.  It's the small gestures that make a world of difference for a person that's hurting and exhausted.  Go the store and buy that person's dog food and paper plates!

Before Darrell had passed, Mom asked him to send her a sign.  "Well, what do you want me to send?" he asked.  Mom thought about it and suggested butterflies.  SHe admitted later that she could have come up with something more obscure, but oh well.  She complained to me on the phone that she hasn't seen a single butterfly and Christy has been seeing them ALL OVER THE PLACE!  On one trip to Buckholts, I saw eight fly directly in front of my car on the highway.  They were all monarchs and I felt as though I had remembered something about monarch butterflies migrating to Mexico int he fall and set aside this thought.

One day last week, Mom had forgotten about the highway constructiuon and absetmindly forgot her back way route.  Sitting ont he highway, trapped, waiting for a single lane to open up, a singular yellow butterfly flitting all around her truck for the entire time that she sat there. 

Darrell's scattering is supposed to be November 2nd.  Darrell's eldest, Justing didn't want to do it in October because his own son was born in October and he couldn't do it doing his son's "birthay month".  Whatever, dude.  You really can't plan when a person passes and in normal circumstances, you don't plan when the funeral will be.  He's just always have to have his way.  He hasn't changed a bit since we were kids.  I'm proud to say I am no longer the six year old throwing fits.  I wish I could say the same for the rest of them.

It's rained a lot though.  Where Darrell marked for his ashes to scatter has no paved, or even gravel roads.  It's just dirt.  Lots and lots of dirt and dirt roads for travel.  If the rain continues, we'll have to push it back another week or so until it's dry enough to drive a passenger vehicle out there.  We've had dry beautiful days, "Darrell Weather" we call it, but oh no!  We can't scatter the man's ashes int he same month that Justin's kid was born in like, 10 years ago.  Stubborn, selfish, twit.


The tray for our keyboard broke so the key board is sitting on top of the desk.  My hands positively ache and my back feels as though I offended it and it's out for revenge.  My future writings may be kept very, very short for this reason.  I hope we find another free desk!