Drake has, for quite some time, called Judson, Jessie, and me his “treasures.”  He would often come home from work and shout up the stairs, “Where are my treasures?” to which I regularly responded with groans and a smile to make sure he knew just how totally and completely sappy I think he is.  However,

We all get asked the question “How are you?” a great deal. In our current season of loss, I can be asked this exact same question by various people within minutes of each other and it elicits completely different emotions for me. Interestingly, when someone, who knows our circumstance, asks this question with a tone

I have often pondered who Jud might be spending his time with in heaven. Besides imagining Jud soaking in the glory of Jesus, I initially tended to think of him hanging out with people from our immediate sphere of family and friends: my cousin Matt who died at age 17, my grandparents (though I am

My days are getting much harder; the realities of Judson’s absence are settling like sediment in my soul.  The pain and heaviness are thick.  It often feels hard to breathe, much less function. I miss Jud.  With every ounce of my being, I miss Jud.  I desperately long for one more touch: to hold his

I am a mother of two children. Jud’s death does not change the fact that I am still a mother of two children.  I will always be Jud’s mom and he will always be my son, even if my time of parenting him here on earth has ended. Therefore, when I am asked how many

I think most of us have done it at one time or another. We’re out and about, and we happen to unexpectedly spot someone nearby, with whom we are acquainted, but eye contact has not yet been made.  However, for whatever reason (there can be numerous reasons), we don’t want to engage in any type

I usually attend Bible Study at my church on Wednesday mornings.  For obvious reasons, I have not been able to be there these last weeks.  I did not attend this week either.  Instead, I had errands to run…I went to the administrative office of the memorial park, where Judson is buried, to tie up some

Time is both a friend and an enemy. Time may begin to lessen my pain, but time can also steal my memories. I am afraid of having my memories of Jud fade. Other than the videos and pictures we have, I know that over the duration of my life it will become harder and harder