The Misadventures of Cheri

Mortifying my kids one swimsuit at a time

For my Homeslice

on July 26, 2011

Yep, that’s him, my Homeslice.  He was sooooooooooo proud of himself in this picture.  When we were packing, he asked me what he should wear.  I told him he could wear whatever he wanted.  So he packed the one piece of clothing he has that literally makes me sick to my stomach.  He couldn’t wait for it to cool down so he could show me.  Gotta love that man!

I’ve recently started diffusing my hair dry in the mornings instead of letting it air dry.  It just looks better when I do.  BUT it takes for-ever.  Well, forever for someone who hasn’t diffused – or anything else including a heated, forced air device – in a long time.  So what happens when I do this?  I get bored.  Stinking, flat out bored.  I realize I should enjoy the boredom because it’s the only point in my day where I will be bored, but I don’t enjoy it.  Not for a second.

I decided to start reading while dealing with my hair.  You only need one arm to diffuse so I was good to go.  The most recent thing I’ve been reading is a Bible study I did almost four years ago, “The Patriarchs: Encountering the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,” by my beloved Beth Moore.  Last week, I read about Genesis 24:67, “So she (Rebekah) became his wife, and he (Isaac) loved her; and Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks . . . . and again showed me the timelessness of God’s word.  Centuries later, I immediately knew how Isaac felt.  How it felt to be comforted by the love of your life in the shadow of your mom’s death.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Tyler could not have been done a better job supporting me and our family after my mother died almost two years ago.

He really could write a book for people whose significant others are grieving the worst loss of their life.  I can’t even begin to list what he did.  He did it all.  He listened, he talked, he kept quiet, he offered advice, he prayed, he held me in church two days after she died because singing “Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee, Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea” was more than I could handle.  He took care of meals, laundry, dishes . . . . he would have scrubbed toilets if I would have asked him.  He kept the kids quiet, he kept the kids loud, he entertained the kids, he sat with them in silence when their grief wouldn’t let them do anything else.  He picked up and carried on when I couldn’t.

And I will never have words enough to properly thank him.

P.S.  His follow-up book will be titled, “How to Support Your Wife During Her Emergency C-Section: She really was dumb enough to believe it couldn’t happen to her and didn’t listen to that lecture during the childbirth education classes, so you gotta be there for her, dude.”


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