I think about that phrase a lot these days. It is ten months today since becoming a widow.
One year ago…
We quickly got ready after school and headed out around 5 to grab some of the fifty-cent corn dogs from Sonic. Well, we only thought we would get corn dogs at Sonic. We stopped at THREE different Sonics and NO CORN DOGS LEFT. Their signs were still advertising corn dogs but none to be found. Our mouths were watering for the greasy goodness. So instead we headed to Grandpa’s facility to gather candy from the occupants, still very hungry.
One year ago… my father was in a facility to help him recover from a broken leg. Little did we know. He actually took several steps backwards at the facility but that was somehow all in God’s sovereign plan. Aren’t those sovereign plans so difficult to accept when they aren’t our plans? We were dressed in costumes and walked around the cafeteria area to collect candy from the good folks there. My dad never made it out of bed so we visited him in his room. Mr Mark led the crazy costumed kids down the hall to Grandpa’s room to give him a bit of cheer. We paused for pictures outside before moving on, back to our neighborhood to trick-or-treat with all the neighbor kids, still very hungry and craving corndogs.
As we left the facility, a thought occurred to me. Coit’s hadn’t closed yet. They surely would have corn dogs. We pulled up to the speaker and promptly ordered 8 corn dogs. You can’t make this stuff up. NO CORN DOGS! It is after seven by now and we are more hungry, even after numerous Resee’s Cups, M & Ms and Laffy Taffy. The gal felt sorry for us and kept looking for corn dogs, but don’t even tell me where she looked because she came back to the speaker and told us she had found ONE. One corn dog for a car of 7 people (Stephen was home working the door and handing out candy)! We ordered old fashioned root beer floats and one corn dog. One corn dog. After it was fried up, she came back on the speaker and said she would give it to us free because it looked so strange and because she felt bad that they only had one! So out comes the most deformed, dark brown, freakish corn dog. We took pictures and named it, The Last Corn Dog in the City.
That memory resurfaces each time corn dogs are mentioned in our home. We laugh about the crazy dog that no one really wanted by then but Dad ate it! Mr Mark applied catsup and jumped right in while we watched with lips curled and noses upturned!
One year ago…
This year… Grandpa and Mr Mark are sitting at the feet of Jesus. This year… Stephen is away at college. This year… it is just me and five kids. This year…We are together still, if only in our memories.