What will you do?

Calendars help monitor days, weeks, months and years, so how do you turn over your calendar from hanging on your bedroom, bathroom, kitchen wall. You have grown to love your calendars. You have written on your calendars. You have marveled at the beautiful dog, cat, lion, flower, institution. How do you turn this calendar into a yesteryear “thing”?

Do you file it away thinking that you might frame the pictures one day? and then 50 years later you have 150 calendars each having 12 photos to frame? Hmmm that would be….well you do the math.

Do you put the beloved treasure that marked your days, your joys, your sorrows, your appointments into the recycle bin?

What do you do?

The new calendars are waiting. You have only a few hours left to decide the fate of your beloved 2017 calendar.

What will you do?

Eulogy/Letter to my Son

I am not a widow, I am not an astronaut, I am a mother. I am not Childless. However, I am one less Child.

Always there were Freddie and Jackie;

Now there is Jackie, my beautiful daughter; no physical Freddie.

(Letter to Freddie)

Freddie, from the moment I knew you were to be born, I was overjoyed. I intuitively knew you would be a son; one to carry the family name with pride and honor.

My heart was filled with love as I watched you grow, but in the back of my being there was also this fear.

I was fearful of losing you, but I pushed those feelings deep down and found delight in every moment you lived. And, boy, did you live! You accomplished more in those 54 years than others could accomplish in a hundred or so years.

You were a delightful child who loved to play tricks on family and friends. (story about invisible strings) I am grateful for all my memories. When you confided in me you wanted to send a robot to the moon, I thought “why not”; if anyone could you could so we shared this dream and I worked to help you make this a reality. You did so well; you were the soul of this project.

I will miss sending and receiving those emails about our moon adventure. I will miss those birthday and holiday calls received from you. California was such a long way away, it seemed. I thought we had time.

But most of all, I will miss your hand holding mine…..as a child and as a man. The last time you held my hand was in the hospital when you looked up at me with those big brown sad eyes and said, “you cannot leave because you are part of the plan,” as he held tightly to my hand. I did not know what plan; I said “I  am only making things worse”, however, I stayed. I could not let you die alone, without family.

My physical time with you is over now. So, son, put those hands that I held for 54 years in God’s hands until I can hold your hands once again.

And tell God, “Thank you” for me. And tell him how grateful, how lucky and how privileged I feel that he chose me to be your mom and I hope I made him proud.

And, son, tell God thank you…thank you for allowing me to be with you as you left this earthly plain; to hold you gently and to whisper  over and over “I love you, I love you, I love you.” And I will forever whisper to the wind, Freddie, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Aeschylus wrote, in explaining  the intensity of the suffering and grief that accompanies a loss:

“And even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.”

Your earthly remains have come home; your soul has followed your heart to the stars and beyond to touch the face of God.

Love, Mom

Through a Season of Grief

To all of you who supported me with your comments or by knowing not to comment because there are no words that could be said to keep the grief from becoming internalized as part of who I now am. Thank you.

Today I will visit Freddie’s grave and post a photo.

Tomorrow I will post two photos of him opening one of his Christmas presents. He never opened any more.

Monday I will post one final time, the Eulogy/letter I wrote to him and read at the last Memorial Service.

Then I will only be around sometimes, not often. Maybe I will read your post, maybe not.

I cannot ask you to grieve with me through the rest of my life. I would ask that you not forget Freddie and his time here with us. He will always be alive as long as we remember.

I never wanted him to go. I miss him.


Last year I had 2 children. I was so thankful that both still lived. Freddie had planned to be home for Thanksgiving and had invited family and friends to come.

It was so far away and everyone had other plans and I daresay everyone thought, as I did, there would be time. There wasn’t.

The hospital had a decent meal for Thanksgiving dinner. I said to Freddie: we will have a good day. He gave that smile and agreed that we would have a good day. I do not remember if anyone came or called.

For one who had always written everything down, I had written little to nothing. I was too tired, too scared…I was losing the battle and refused to stop my rant at those who could not save him, even God.

I am so thankful I had 2 children. Jackie is here. Freddie’s spirit is strongly felt as we face this Thanksgiving without him.

Always remember to be thankful…for family near and far; friends old and new.

Freddie’s remains may be in the earth but he is very much alive within all the family and friends who remember him through stories told and retold…his humor, his intelligence, his love of life and all things space. His voice is heard.



Born on All Saints Day, November 1, 1994.

Died August 8, 2006 at home on the patio.

I put a fan to blow air on him to try to keep him cool. Dr. Jones came and as I held Laddie and told him he would be ok, he barked and looked at a bird in flight. He put his head down, looked at me, closed his eyes and slipped away.

I hope Laddie and Spunky have found Freddie.