Yeah, that’s right….that’s me…kickin‘ a little backside……totally.

When we lost Jack, I refused to kill anything; spiders, ants, moths, bugs, creepy crawlies….I would kindly escort them out of the house and into the garden.

I was toodling around town the other day and pulled behind a big truck. A great, big Mickey Mouse was displayed on the rear window.

I am guest blogging today. My essay Are We Enough can be found over at Hopeful Parents.

I am still posting readings from the Memorial Service. This is from Grandma Judi…

Samantha—My Sweet, Precious Smooch—

What a gift you are to all of us. During all of your illnesses and hospital stays, your Mama and I would often look at each other and say that you would get well enough for the next outing or party because you were such a loving, considerate little girl. It was often our way of coping with such a difficult situation. And—most of the time, you did, you got better. But not last Sunday. You decided it was time to leave—on your terms.

You faced life with a courage and tenacity that is seldom seen. In spite of all the hardships in your short life, you were still able to smile that wonderful, gummy, drooly smile that melted our hearts. You taught us all to appreciate each precious moment and to treasure the little things. You gave us such joy and love.

Being your Grandma, I got to cuddle, read stories and just BE with you. Snuggling and singing our special Samantha song is one of the highlights of my life. I will always remember those special afternoons of cuddling with my Smooch and singing our secret song:

“I love Samantha, yes I do

I love Samantha and she loves me too

She is my Smoocher , I am her Gran

I am Samantha’s biggest fan!”

Then we would clap hands and say:

“Rah, rah, sis boom bah, Samantha is a rock star, rah, rah, rah, Yeaaaaaah, Samantha.”

You would look up at me with a light in your big, blue eyes and a big smile and we would do it all over again! Time after time until you let me know you had had enough.

You have a special place in my heart and will be with me every day. We all need to go forward and live our lives honoring the love and courage you taught us. I loved every moment of being your Grandma—even during the scary, difficult times.

There are no words to tell you how much I love you and will miss you. Run free, my Smooch, and giggle with your newfound voice. I will do my best to help your Mama and Daddy.

Love,

Grandma Juju

Sometimes the simplest things worked wonders for Samantha.

I went to writer’s group today. Our prompt was to write about what is yet to happen….here’s what I came up with.

My lovely friend Alissa treated me to all-you-can-eat sushi last night.

My friend Cora sent this to me…..

Along with this message….

I’ve included as an attachment a picture of something we made at the beach in memory of your beautiful daughter. Made with some of the many shells at the beach, it struck me that even the broken shells and the simplest shells at the shore are creations of exquisite beauty, with their own stories to tell…..

Lil’ Miss has left a ginormous void in our world. But these thoughts and messages of love are little sprinklings of life…

El Santuario de Chimayo receives almost 300,000 visitors a year and has been called “no doubt the most important Catholic pilgrimage center in the United States.”

During holy week alone, 30,000 people make the pilgrimage… many walk from Albuquerque; 90 miles away.

We chose to drive from Taos but that didn’t make the journey any less exciting.

We started out journey at 3:30 giving us two hours before our dinner reservations.

But we got lost…..

quite lost.

I think it might be a requirement that any place worthy of a pilgrimage must be out of the way, difficult to find and on several curvy mountain roads leaving one quite green and slightly nauseated upon arrival.

It was a beautiful drive…..I know this because I was very focused on the horizon in order to prevent a pre-pilgrimage bout of car sickness.

At 5:30 we were still in car. We were on the right road but stuck in construction traffic.

Our dinner reservations were at 5:30 and the sanctuary closed at 6:00.

I was cranky, nauseous and my mother was driving.

“Forget it,” I said. “We don’t need to go to the church. Let’s just go to dinner. I need a margarita.”

“You need to go to the church. We need holy dirt.”

My mother is not Catholic. My mother is Lutheran…..and not a very good one at that. BUT my mother is a very spiritual person and the Chimayo Sanctuary is a very spiritual place and the dirt at Chimayo is known for it’s healing, miraculous properties.

My mother is also very determined.

We bounced up the dirt road and into the sanctuary at 5:45. I ran up to the doors, stopped at the entrance and took a deep breath….we made it.

Inside are photos, prayers, crutches and pictures of those healed by the Chimayo earth. Candles lit the parameter. I picked up a candle for Samantha and sat down to say a prayer.

Odd, I don’t quite know what to pray for anymore.

And so I sat there….waiting for something inspirational to hit me….perhaps waiting for a miracle.

And then the lights went out.

Perhaps I should pray that I do not get locked in for the night.

Apparently El Santuario de Chimayo closes at 5:55, not 6:00.

I found Mom in the holy dirt room. Holy dirt room is an adobe room with a hole in the floor where you can scoop out the blessed dirt. The church replaces 30 tons of blessed dirt a year.

Some people eat the dirt. Some people rub themselves in it. Some people take it home and place it in their blessing bowl for good juju.

Mom was in the dark of the room, filling a baggie with holy dirt.

“Mom,” I said. “I think we have plenty.”

“You have friends who might need this.”

Why yes, yes we do.

We made it out of the dark of the room to find the front door locked from the outside. For as lovely as the sanctuary is, I really didn’t want to spend the night. Fortunately a very nice watchman let us out.

We joined the rest of our ladies for a much needed margarita.