While fiddling to forestall work (this happens sometimes) I ran across a Facebook post that jangled my heart.
It had to do with the death of a woman who took my family in and loved us deeply and well.
When we moved to Duluth, MN, we were a family of soon-to-be five. We were young and living the exhausting adventure that is making home for three young lives whilst creating our own. Luckily, we landed in a small church that took us in and grounded us deeply.
Woodland United Methodist church was the kind of church you want your children to grow up in. It was peopled with grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles who knew what it is to slog and glory through life with young children. They knew the stretch of that work and they knew too how priceless it is to offer tenderness to young children and parents.
Our children grew up on laps.
One of the best belonged to Mickey Olson. Mickey was a singer in the choir and a lover of my babies. Her face would light up and her laugh would ring out and Halloween wasn’t Halloween unless we stopped by Mickey’s house for a hug and some of the delight she showered on those she loved.
She coupled her radiant grace with a deep faith and an unwillingness to suffer fools.
On this day her church, family and community are gathering to sing their thanks for her life.
I am singing from far away.
I am singing gratitude and appreciation for the power of love shared and gratefully taken in.
Travelling Mercies, Mickey.