Dear family and friends… Jud has been gone 10 months.  Time is passing.  Life continues.  But the gaping hole in our hearts remains. As we are only two months away from the anniversary of our little man’s death, I am reminded of an experience I had at “Judson’s Park” back in October 2006 (several months

I’m tired.  Not the type of tired that can be remedied by sleep, though I’m sure a few more zzz’s couldn’t hurt, but I am weary of grieving.  I write this tonight with swollen, puffy, red eyes that reflect a constant depth of sorrow that continues to grip my daily life.  Of course there are

On Sunday our church congregation was lead to sing the hymn “I Surrender All.”  And as the worshippers habitually sung out the words to this song, it was as if everything in me wanted to stand up and shout, “Hold on!  Wait a minute!  Have we truly considered what these words mean?!??!  Have we thought

Jessie attended her first baseball game (wearing her brother’s Angels hat) this weekend.  I’m not sure she even noticed the baseball field and players down below…she was too intent on socializing with Auntie Sarah and our other friends while enjoying the special snacks for the occasion.      

Jessie is reminding me more and more of Judson.  She has reached a stage that corresponds so significantly to my dearest memories of my little man.  Jessie is just as verbal, funny, cute, and sweet; her mannerisms, facial expressions, laugh, and voice closely parallel those of her brother.  Furthermore, the two of them have an

We went with some friends to an Angels baseball game on Friday night—an alumni event for our college.  But I didn’t watch one lick of the game. My eyes were transfixed on the sweet little blonde-haired, brown-eyed boy that was sitting directly in front of Drake.  He reminded me of Jud. When I pulled out

I had the chance to get away by myself for a day this week and retreated to the beach.  I found a nice little spot on one of the Ventura jetties and settled in for a couple hours on a flat, comfortable rock with my blanket, journal, pen, and coffee. On this beautiful day, with

I didn’t know. I just didn’t know how much every cell in my body would yearn to hold Jud after he was gone, even 9 months later.  I didn’t recognize how strange it would be to look at pictures of my little man and realize the images no longer connect to my present reality.  I