my friend, my cherished titus 2 buddy
mother to 5 beautiful people, plus three little ones in heaven and mother-in-law to 1 brand new bride of alex
the devoted wife of neil
a generous giver of beautiful gifts
a sinner; aware of her failings and looking in faith to christ who makes sense of frustrations, hurts, and wrong-doing.
is forgiven!
a communicator…and connects people
an intelligent reader of good books
a lover of art and beautiful crafts
appreciates nature but is allergic to cats
a grammarian
a daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, cousin, niece, aunty
notices fine details
comments encouragingly about those details
a spotless house keeper and an interesting folder of socks!
a pray-er

45 today

you gave me the confidence to get a cow…now we’ve way exceeded what you’ve done
do you remember summer weekend blackberry picking, volleyball at pointsfield, lego in the living room while we talked and ate? what about titus group when there were up to 21 kids playing out in the yard; building cubbies, rock walls, tree houses, digging holes in the ground, swimming in the river
we’ve talked about all the stages the kids were going through; you gave me your heartfelt thoughts about it all; you loved my children like they were yours. i love yours
you proof read all my articles and helped me edit my magazine
you prayed for me when i had little faith, and let me pray for you when you were there too
we’ve discussed books; fiction, faith, theology, fun, health, rubbish, children’s lit
you don’t mind firestarters anymore!
wow, that text you sent when nadia was born…there was no other like it
we’ve sung together, prayed together, laughed together, cried together. you’ve frustrated me; and i’ve done the same to you. we live in the reconcilliation of christ
you still write to people from your primary school classes. you always stop and talk to people in town, even if you’ve only met them once.
you amaze me
most of all i think of the relaxed evenings, spontenous meals, talking until late at night, children put into spare beds to sleep until the time would come when we couldn’t keep our eyes open anymore and the guys would ‘break up the party’. notice it got earlier over the years? must have been 11 or even 10.30 last time you were over

kim. i know you don’t want to go; there is still too much happening. but the doctor has said you will likely go home today or tomorrow

i love you kim and i will miss you

(bette also remembers)