Six years: Joshua-Michael, 2001-2006

You never get over losing a child.  How can you?  The gap in your life is still there, and it needs to be acknowledged.  Six years ago today, my son Joshua entered heaven, our true home.  Had he lived, he would have been turning eleven years old this month.  He would have probably been getting tall, and played with the boys living down the street from us.  He might have been wrestling with his brother Thomas and annoying his older brother Caleb.  I wonder if he still would be playing prince to his sisters' princesses, the way he loved to do, as seen in this picture.
We miss him.  We seldom speak of the pain, but we often speak of him.  And I think that's how it should be.

Today begins the Novena to the Holy Spirit!
Day 1

Charity

Let us bow down in humility at the power and grandeur of the Holy Spirit. Let us worship the Holy Trinity and give glory today to the Paraclete, our Advocate.

Oh Holy Spirit, by Your power, Christ was raised from the dead to save us all. By Your grace, miracles are performed in Jesus’ name. By Your love, we are protected from evil. And so, we ask with humility and a beggar’s heart for Your gift of Charity within us.

The great charity of all the the host of Saints is only made possible by your power, Oh Divine Spirit. Increase in me, the virtue of charity that I may love as God loves with the selflessness of the Saints.

Amen.

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created. And You shall renew the face of the earth.

O, God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever enjoy His consolations, through Christ Our Lord,

Amen.

Find the Original Here: Novena to the Holy Spirit 

Random Moment of Beauty: Pink and Green

I love this color combination in the spring, as you know.  Here's a softer pairing, which stands behind our microwave on the green countertop.  The friend gave me the pitcher years ago, and the cups are my daughters. Since we lack drawers in our kitchen, the basket is our silverware drawer.

Black Cat Collection

Since we have named our house The Black Cat Inn, it seemed natural to start collecting inn-like artifacts with a black cat theme. We are determined to rehabilitate and redeem the bad press this hue of feline has received, feeling we are in good company since Our Lady herself has given a new significance to the 13th day of the month.
So here is our collection to date: starting at the bottom and going counter-clockwise: ttwo signature wine bottles of Black Cat Wine, normally known as Zeller Schwartze Katz, a deliciously sweet light white wine (our house vintage, naturally!), a bottle of Black Cat Tonic which Snow White found in an antique store for us, an iron antique black cat plaque together with two cooking implements unburied on our property, a set of black cat trivets (such pieces frequently tend to appear on eBay in October, we've discovered), two prints of a long-deceased magazine from the 1900s titled The Black Cat, and lastly, a homemade menu for our "Inn," composed by our eldest daughter when she was around ten, which we couldn't resist framing. No doubt the collection will grow, as collections do, but this is the status thus far.

My King in Spring

When I inherited this statue of the Infant of Prague, a devotion I've reconnected with over the past five years, I also inherited gilt lace coats, two for the different seasons, frightfully tattered and faded.  Somehow I think little Jesus looks a bit smothered in these particular garments, but I am touched by their homemade attempts at finery.  So I tend to keep him in his simple painted surplice on the bookshelf by my bed.  I couldn't resist giving him a scarf of Indian cotton -- it should really be a stole, but the fold around his neck hides the crack that beheaded him last year.  The casual style reminds me a bit of the Little Prince, and that's not altogether a bad thing, is it?  So there he stands, with a wine bottle of holy water (I love the vintage sleeve), a clay candle from Europe, a gourd box from Mexico, a bird photo frame from a friend, and a bookend we have christened St. Benedict. Prince of Peace, bring peace to our world.

Bilbo's Coat Rack

My brother-in-law continues to work his magic at Strong Oaks Barn Wood Shop, which is about to move into an actual commercial workshop, having far outgrown its beginnings as a garage hobby. When we finished our entranceway with reclaimed barn wood this past summer, we envisioned having an entryway like Bilbo Baggins' -- one with "lots d lots of pegs for hats and coats -- the hobbit was fond of visitors."  Mike obliged with this amazing nine-foot pegboard, which we think truly gives our entranceway a touch of Middle-Earth hospitality.

Reasons for Hope

My husband grew up on a small strawberry farm.  For years, he and his ten siblings worked the fields every summer, picking massive or miniature berries to sell to strangers passing down their road.  He knows how to grow strawberries. Yet somehow he and I have never managed to include strawberries in our garden.  They are an "investment" plant -- you plant, you wait a year, you hope -- and somehow during that year of waiting, we have always managed to mess up -- whether by failing to water or moving to a new house. 

We finally planted last summer. Last year was the waiting year.  This year, with its unusually warm winter, is the fruiting year.  The plants are large and lush.  Our children are anticipating a fruitful summer.  We hope their hope, long tested, pays off.