A Morning of Mourning

There was no Sunday School this morning, so I left the boys at home and went to church alone. I don't know if it was the music for the day or the fact that it's been just over nine months since Tim died or that it's his birthday in ten days, but I cried all through mass. Sheil (our church) was an integral part of our relationship from the very beginning. Going to Sheil and singing in the choir has been a source of immense comfort to me both throughout Tim's illness and after his death. As much as I draw strength from the Sheil community, it can also be very painful to be in a place that holds so many memories of Tim. It's not just my memories, either. A friend once told me that she liked to watch Tim when I sang, because his love showed so clearly on his face. I often think of that story when I am standing up front with the choir. It makes me very sad to know that Tim is no longer sitting in the pews with the boys, listening to me and smiling.

So after doing something I wanted to do (go to church) and something I hadn't planned to do (cry a lot), I went home and did something I had to do - laundry. I had planned on serving leftovers, but, surprise, surprise, my dining companions rejected that choice, so we settled for frozen taquitos.