Wednesday, August 22, 2012

You're My Pal

It all started with the lobster.

Last August we were in NC at the beach. We took a day trip to an aquarium and enjoyed being out of the sun, seeing something new, and being together. Things started out a little dicey, as Margaret wasn't in the best mood, but a quick talking to from Tim, and the hilarious sight of two box turtles mating turned her frown to a smile.

We approached a huge glass tank and Jack thrust out a finger, pointed to a lobster, and said in a funny voice, "You're my PAL!" We laughed, and as we passed window after window, teeming with fish and ocean creatures, we each picked a "Pal." By the end, we had a lot a pals, and we headed back to the beach house.

Less than two weeks later, with Jack gone, our minds reeled with how to cultivate his legacy, how to hang onto him in a way we weren't able to do physically since he was so cruelly swept away from us. Margaret, on her own volition, did a google search looking for organizations that either donated Legos to needy kids or helped to "save the lobsters," because legos and lobsters reminded her of her brother.

I was reminded of how our friend Glennon, on her amazing blog, called her sister her lobster. It was something about how lobsters take care of each other and all that. Sounded like Jack and Margaret to me.

So, with all this in mind, I bought Margaret a stuffed lobster from the thrift store, wrapped it up, and gave it to her "From Jack" on our first quiet Christmas morning as a family of three. She loved it, and the lobster has accompanied her as she's had to do hard things, like go to grief camp.

Last Sunday, we went to an open house in our town. This is one of my favorite activities, which is only mildly tolerated by the rest of the family. The historic house was devoid of furniture or decoration. When we got up to a tiny second floor office, we saw a huge, and I mean HUGE stuffed lobster sitting there. It was a bit dirty and had a yard sale price tag attached to its claw. We're talking so big that you could just tell whichever mom had managed to wrest it away from her kids and get it out of her house had probably felt the walls expand a little at that moment.

We laughed at the improbability of seeing the lobster there, in an otherwise empty house, and Margaret looked at me like... PLEASE?!? I didn't know if I could muster up the courage to ask the real estate agent if the lobster was for sale, or if I even wanted to. I mean, I've spent many moments in my own house bagging up annoying stuffed animals-- which have somehow managed to breed in the recesses of my kids' rooms-- and smuggling them out of the house under cover of darkness. If the lady did say yes, we'd end up with a HUGE lobster in our house.

But here's the thing. Margaret considered this lobster sighting a smile from Jack, so I wanted to do something. I tried to shove it off on Tim, but he looked at me like I had three heads. Remember how I've said no one in our relationship can speak up and return pants? Prime example.

"The worst thing that could happen is that she'll say no," Margaret said.

Okay, kid.

I went down the stairs and said, "The house is nice but what we really liked was that stuffed lobster upstairs. My daughter collects them, so if you want to get rid of that one, we'd be happy to buy it from you." She responded, warmly enough, but did not bite. "Oh, I picked that up at a yard sale to stage the house." Ummm... interesting decor choice, to say the least, but it was clear the lobster was staying.

After we left, I thought about it some more.

I thought about all the times I could have spoken up for my kids over the years, in tiny ways like this one, and big ways. Whether for Jack in preschool when his teacher, clearly irritated with him, would say in front of everyone, "He's just too smart for his own good," or even on that horrible September night when I went home to my kitchen to wait because I'd been told to. I just quietly went home. I mean what kid of mother DOES that?

I had ingrained in the kids, and in myself, "You get what you get and you don't get upset," you never ask for special favors, and you don't make a fuss about anything; but while that seemed appropriate when doling out popsicle flavors, was that the message I wanted to teach them about EVERYTHING?

What about Life? Love? Lobsters?

So I set my awkward feelings aside and found the realtor's email address. I secretly wrote her about our situation and asked if she might be willing to sell us the stuffed lobster when the vacant house sold.

It wasn't a big move, but it took me out of my comfort zone. The agent responded immediately and graciously. Because of her generosity. in a few short days an enormous yard sale stuffed lobster, hopefully not riddled with head lice, will show up on our doorstep at no charge!

I hope Margaret will look at her new pal and see it really DIDN'T hurt to ask.

70 comments:

Anonymous said...

The lessons Jack continues to teach your family are amazing. Such a beautiful, and achingly sad, story.

Reccewife said...

What a sweet story of leaving your comfort zone! I'm sure your daughter will remember this.

A Speckled Trout said...

Sigh. I've said the same kind of things over and over to my kids and then don't get it when they "don't speak up for themselves."

Hindsight..........I wish it would mind its own business.

Elizabeth said...

Jack is smiling, and nodding his head yes...it doesn't hurt to ask.

Always praying for you, Tim and Margaret.

spedhead said...

I hate that "shoulda woulda coulda" feeling after the fact. I have a million times wished I had done or said more, been true to myself, and acted like I believe in my own influence on the world. Good for you for taking control and making this happen for Margaret! But maybe bag it for a couple days to make sure there are no lice stragglers on him!! Or hit him with a tennis raquet to dust him off. Way to go!

amy said...

Even when they are not here, They are HERE. Little signs along the way point to love. It is hard and I can't say it gets easier, I lost my mom suddenly 30 years ago and I still get emotional, 30 years later.
Many hugs and love and maybe a lobster or two.

Shell Flower said...

Laughing and crying again. I love how Jack keeps showing up. Lobster Power!

booksandcandy said...

Goosebumps, thank you for sharing this story and your whole grieving process.
I am always learning something from you but I don't often comment. Thinking of you and your family.

The Carens Clan said...

I love this story... What are the chances that lobster was there??? I mean, who has even seen a huge stuffed lobster!!! Jack is one powerful little guy making sure his family knows that he is always watching over them & proof to the rest of us that God shows us signs from Heaven if we just open our eyes!! I grew up on Cape Cod and for some reason Lobsters just feel like home to me. thanks for sharing... Continuing to pray for you all!
Mandy

Anonymous said...

that lobster was 100% meant to be Margaret's lobster. kudos for making it so!

Susie said...

I hope Margaret loves her lobster a long time. She will remember.xo, Susie

Mimi said...

So glad you asked! Margaret's smile is going to be priceless. I am continued to be in awe of Jack's tangible ways of saying hello.

I've thought so much about how you have survived Jack's passing and while staying in doors the night he was missing may have been doing what you were told, it was also kept you safe. I know a large part of how you have been able to go on is because of Margaret. Part of the grace I see in your Mom's early passing is for you and Margaret. You know how hard it is to lose a mother and I can only imagine that it has helped you be there for Margaret during this terrible year.

Always praying for you all. xo

Arnebya said...

I'm proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone, Anna, for seeing that Margaret needed something new, a new lesson. Your continued growth from Jack's death amazes me; please don't take that as flippant. I mean it seriously and completely. Not having experienced such a devastating loss, I don't know how I'd be. I like to think I'd be half as eloquent and inspirational as you, half the teacher you are for Margaret. I believe in signs. I believe that that lobster was put there for you. I believe that Jack is smiling at you for believing.

mgh said...

I love this story. And I love that you are standing up for Margaret in unique ways. I've mostly shared your "don't ask for special favors" attitude. I started changing how I thought about that last fall. Because of Jack and Grace. I struggled for some time because I realized I wasnt the only person suffering difficult circumstances... and I was keenly aware that I wasnt suffering nearly as much as some others.
My wise sister reminded me that just because others have bigger problems doesnt mean mine are unimportant. I wish I could say that I had as much grace as you did when I came to the point of realizing that my child actually NEEDed some special favors for sheer survival. Instead I ended up sending a scathing email that upset a teacher... although it did finally get the staff closer to understanding how important 'lobsters' can be even when they seem out of place to others.
With prayers.

mgh said...

I love this story. And I love that you are standing up for Margaret in unique ways. I've mostly shared your "don't ask for special favors" attitude. I started changing how I thought about that last fall. Because of Jack and Grace. I struggled for some time because I realized I wasnt the only person suffering difficult circumstances... and I was keenly aware that I wasnt suffering nearly as much as some others.
My wise sister reminded me that just because others have bigger problems doesnt mean mine are unimportant. I wish I could say that I had as much grace as you did when I came to the point of realizing that my child actually NEEDed some special favors for sheer survival. Instead I ended up sending a scathing email that upset a teacher... although it did finally get the staff closer to understanding how important 'lobsters' can be even when they seem out of place to others.
With prayers.

Anonymous said...

"...an enormous yard sale stuffed lobster, hopefully not riddled with head lice, will show up on our doorstep at no charge!"

I literally can't imagine anyone else in the entire world writing this, but, I get it. Miss Margaret is really the sweetest. Is it wrong that I still like the taste of lobster?



Anonymous said...

Put your new stuffed lobster in a plastic bag, close it tightly and put it in the freezer to kill any bugs.

The Empress said...

Oh, Anna. Though I love this post, and how YOU HAVE grown and pushed your limits this year, with Jack at the helm bursting you forth to grab this world and go, I have to ask you:

PLEASE don't say this about yourself, "What kind of mother does that."

It makes me cry.

Because you are the dream of a mother, and none of us is perfect, and we all fall under the measure we hold up for ourselves.

You are a fantastic, incredible, dream of a mother. How does ANYONE ever know what to do? How do we know especially in the face of mind numbing crisis?

We do as we're told because we don't know what to do.

That is all.

Please: forgive yourself?

Anonymous said...

You have that rare gift in your writing that can make people feel conflicting emotions at the same time. I'm aching as you write about your little family of three then cracking up that a professional would stage a home with a giant stuffed lobster. Reminds me that there is not black and white, amidst joy there is sorrow and vice versa.

I started reading your blog a year ago exactly, the post about wanting to read the magazines but not wanting to touch them in the rental house sucked me in and I felt like you were a kindred spirit.

Fiona, LilyfieldLife said...

you are a good mummy! I hope the lobster is lice free!
take care
Fiona xx

Alice said...

Anna,
This is my favorite poem...somehow it seems appropriate to share this with you after reading your post. Still praying for you and keeping up with your journey...and inspired by your faith, your faithfulness, and your courage.
Your Houston friend,
Alice L.
 
The Invitation  
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Canadian Teacher and Author
 
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."

It doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after a night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
 

.

Angie @ KEEP BELIEVING said...

Some stuffed animals are keepers. Some are not. This one is.

Anonymous said...

Beautifully put, Empress.

mariann said...

14Hi, Anna -- My family tolerated my dragging them into open houses for years -- now on a weekend, mariano cannot believe we don't do that anymore.

I love the lobster story -- I too hope it doesn't have lice. LOL!
I keep thinking of the episode of 'FRIENDS' when phoebe explains that lobsters 'mate for life.' And the episode ends with her saying, 'Yup, that's her lobster.' And, yup, I must agree that's Margaret's lobster!
I learned only a few years ago about speaking up for my kids -- I've learned that sometimes I have to give 'their' inner child my voice. Thinking about you and praying for you every day! ((((hugs)))) mariann

Anonymous said...

I literally just watched the Friends episode today about Ross and Rachel being each other's lobster: Slightly different meaning for those two, but the same concept!
Think of it this way, if you wouldn't have gone home to wait like you were told, who knows what danger you may have found yourself in....Still doesn't make it less painful, or bring him back, I know.
I'm excited to read about Margaret's reaction to the ginormous lobster that she will be receiving!!

Clare said...

Love this. This restores my faith in humanity!!And Margaret will treasure your courage forever!

Karen (formerly kcinnova) said...

I don't know why she had a huge stuffed lobster to help her stage a house... (what? So people could say, oh yeah, The LOBSTER house! I don't think so) ... The only plausible reason is because there was a nudge given to her to do such a crazy thing. It came from the same source that nudged you to go to this open house, the same source that nudged you to e-mail the Realtor. I have no doubt that when she read your e-mail, she understood -- FINALLY! -- why she'd gotten the nudge to buy that lobster in the first place. Margaret's Lobster. ♥

Kim said...

Way to go, Momma!!

Laura said...

Your sweet Jack is keeping very busy. ;-)

Rose D. Frenchtown, NJ said...

Oh, that clever Jack...He continues to teach!!! Love it!

One crazed mommy said...

Oh - reading this made both tear up and smile! It's funny where you can find those little (or in this case big) reminders of those we love and have lost. Amazing story - and I'm so glad Margaret gets her lobster.

ALI said...

Way to go mom! Blessings in all the unexpected places is what life is all about...

Stimey said...

What kind of mother does that? A mother in shock and grief and horror. It can be so easy to see the times we regret not saying or doing something, but I am willing to bet that there are myriad times when you stepped up (and continue to step up) in ways that mattered greatly to your kids that you didn't even notice. Please don't doubt your mothering. You are a really good mother.

But also, OMG THE LOBSTER. Please, please, share the lobster with us. I'd love to see that smile from Jack too. How could that lobster be anything but a sign? :)

This is a really provocative post, and one that should give all of us something to think about. Thank you for being willing to share your family's story with us. I learn something every time I read your words.

Jenn said...

This so resonates with me...My son has this innate sense of it never hurts to ask. So there have been numerous occasions where someone in the family liked something, needed something, wanted something and I was too uncomfortable to simply ask. Then my 7 year old would gently remind me --mom it doesn't hurt to ask? you never know what they'll say. And honestly it seems like 99% of the time it turns out good. Congrats on continuing to grow, be brave, and honor Jack and Margaret. Perhaps, you quietly heard him whispering mom, just ask. :)

Jenn

Recovering Church Lady said...

Yay for you! That was a classy and loving move, Mom!

Christy said...

You are such an awesome mom. (I'd either take it to one of those giant washing machine places or hose it down with detergent outside!) Hugs.16

Anonymous said...

I love this post. I have a five year old daughter who is often "too smart for her own good." Her personality is not at all like mine. I am of the keep your mouth shut and don't make a fuss variety. But gradually I am learning from her the value of sticking up for yourself. I feel like other adults don't always appreciate her strong personality. I am often frustrated with her strong will, but then I remind myself that this trait will serve her well in life so I try not to squelch it. It's amazing what we can learn from our children!

zhiffy said...

That was such a sweet thing to do.
I don't even know you but wow I'm proud of you! Haha well that actually felt rather awkward to say...

Theresa O said...

WOW!! You go girl!! That is so awesome - Margaret is going to be one happy girl!! You are with no doubt, THE BEST MOM. Many hugs.

P.S. Zach and I were talking about Jack last night. And he wants to send a hotwheel to heaven for him...so I have a feeling we will be doing that next month. He has this connection with Jack & Heaven and it blows my mind sometimes. So I agreed...and we will be doing that on 9/8 we decided. A gift to Jack in Heaven, from Zach.

Kate Coveny Hood said...

That's from Friends! Phoebe said Ross was Rachel's lobster. I love the image of lobster pals.

But seriously Anna - I hate it when you question yourself as a mother. There are any number of reasons why you would go wait at home - one of the biggest being that your daughter needed you. We can continue this conversation in person...but I can't NOT say something when I read "what kind of mother" on your blog. You are a wonderful mother - then, now and always.

The Bipolar Diva said...

lobsters, I like it! How surprised she'll be! Such a good mom :)

Princess Kate said...

As we sat on the balcony last night of our Outer Banks rental, I saw a beautiful lantern come from the beach and fly freely over the night sky to heaven. Of course, for our family it was a sign for Jack.

As always, our family is thinking of your family.

ella said...

A huge stuffed lobster to stage a house? I don't think so. Something (someone) much bigger just *has* to be responsible for that. What an awesome story.

bonzo said...

You are an amazing mom.

Michelle DeRusha said...

Catching up with you here, Anna. Really glad you emailed the agent and got the lobster. You are brave in a lot of ways.

OSMA said...

Two things: I'm all perturbed the agent said no to your original request for lobster because helllooo you're Anna (I like to assume everyone in the universe reads you and knows what's up) but she redeemed herself by saying yes, no charge later.

2.) The kind of mother waiting for her little boy to come home. There was absolutely no way for you to know. None. That was not a shitty decision on your part, it was an inconceivable unspeakable tragedy that transpired regardless of where you were standing.

We all love you so much.
xoxo

Anonymous said...

I just love this post Anna. That lobster was a sign from Jack, no doubt about that. And I am SO glad you said something to the realtor because I'm sure she was absolutely thrilled to help bring joy to you all in any way she could (I know I feel the same way). That lobster couldn't mean more to anyone else. I can't wait to see a picture of it - please post one!

Sending lots of love your way.

Beth Darrow Condon said...

I also hate those junky meaningless stuffed animals and try to get rid of them when I can. And then they multiply the next year, especially because we live in Mobile, birthplace of Mardi Gras, where they throw re-used stuffed animals from parade floats and if one of my kids catches one, I can't tell them no. They are disgusting and go in the washing machine on HOT as soon as we get home (I don't care what it does to their fur).

But stuffed animals from a treasured loved one, special friends, deserve a place of reverence, and I have no problem keeping them and honoring them! They are like lucky charms! The lobster would have a special place in our house - good for you, for doing something hard because you felt it was important. That's living with intention, which is what God wants for us. Yes, I included God and a stuffed lobster in the same paragraph. :)

You can try washing him in the washing machine if the lice idea grosses you out, but I wouldn't recommend the dryer. Is his name Pal?

starnes family said...

How would you know what else to do but go back to your house and wait? I would have done the same.

I check in with your blog and rarely comment, but I do read. I have my own Jack and he loves lobsters, but calls them "wobsters".

Anonymous said...

Yes, yes, exactly this.

Mexmom said...

I think the lobster was there for Margaret, so you did good, and I am sure she will be very happy.

Debby@Just Breathe said...

Funny how I can sit here and cry about a stuffed lobster. Knowing that the lobster is coming your way made my heart smile. No doubt that Jack was there in that house!

One bolt short of a toolbox said...

What a beautiful story.


Janet
door251.com

Mama Mary said...

This post touched me almost more than any other thing you've written. I love that the women had chose a randomly gigantic lobster as her decor, that Margaret said, "It can't hurt to ask" and then that you ended up emailing her for it. I know it will bring you some joy and comfort in the upcoming weeks as you come up on the anniversary of the accident. Continued love and light sent your way! xo

April said...

My husband and myself call one another "lobster". He gifted me with a huge stuffed lobster one year and if the one you are expecting does not make it to you then please let me know as I would be glad to pass mine along to Margaret.

the mama bird diaries said...

What a beautiful story. I just love this. And I think you are right - stuffed animals do breed!

Loukia said...

I loved reading this. Loved the story, the message, the meaningfulness behind the lobster, and just... everything. What a wonderful mom you are... xoxo

mosey (kim) said...

I want a photo of that huge sucker when he arrives in your house. And well done, Mama. I too have a hard time speaking up but how will my daughter ever learn to be her own advocate if I don't demonstrate it? Thanks for the reminder, sweet Anna. x

tracy@sellabitmum said...

It never hurts to ask - so very very true. I'm so glad the lobster will be hers. xo

Meredith Self said...

Anna, the content of all your posts is so inspiring that I often comment on that and don't mention the brilliance of your writing style...not wanting you to feel judged and evaluated for how you write through praises. Because, seriously, what hard topics and there is no standard of excellence for simply opening yourself so raw and transparent for us all.

Yet, oh my. Seriously. May I take a moment to just comment on how tangible and present you make the ups and downs of life (and death). You bring me into not only your own day or perspective, but you bring me into mine and even more, the human perspective that we all share.

Your voice is exquisite. Your humor. Your force. Your courage. Your way of seeing things. They all come through in a beautiful dance. There's an incredible rhythm to your writing. It pulls me along and it stops me cold. It warms me up and it turns me around.

I truly love reading whatever you write about (including going back and reading the pre-accident posts).

-----
With that said, a quick comment on content. :) I think your insight on speaking up applies to the situation we've been investigating! :) Love you dearly. Thank you for writing.

Anonymous said...

"It pulls me along and it stops me cold."

I wouldn't have thought of this myself, but that's exactly it.

Keeping you, Tim, and Margaret in my prayers this weekend.

e. said...

sometimes I think of Jack and I just can't stand it... he wasn't mine, but he was a pure presence and so deeply loved by the people in his life.

a poem for you anna -- I read it over and over at my own loved-one's funeral and it means so much:

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

E.

Stefie481 said...

Such an important yet difficult lesson to teach your children. How to step out of your comfort zone and stop wondering what if. Wishing there was a class i could take lol It's amazing how Jack keeps prodding you with little nudges of love and truly both your kids are so right "it never hurts to ask" because "with God, all things are possible". Hoping as well for no head lice :)

Mellow said...

Thinking of you all especially during the coming weeks. Praying for comfort and peace. I know it's so hard.

Glad to hear the happy news about the lobster's new home.

In our family we say, "you get what you get and don't throw a fit". :)

Much Love.

Nelly said...

You are an amazing mom!

Lisa said...

I love that you found the lobster...and it can now be Margaret's pal. That makes me smile.

You are a terrific mother who loves her children so very much. That is evident through every word you write..every action you take.

Lady Jennie said...

This post makes me cry, especially your comment about "what kind of mother does that?" I know how you meant it - I am so much like you in this way. And tears that the lobster was even there.

Okay I'm feeling a little nuts today.

Love you

MRK said...

Have read every one of your posts since last summer, but this is the first time I've commented. I've wanted to so many times but never words I felt were worthy. I am a mother of 4, two by birth, two by international adoption. Your description of how, so many times, you didn't want to ask and just did what was expected or what you were told resonates so strongly with me. I do better at speaking up and asking for things, even little things, when it's for my kids, but even that is probably a far cry from how much I should ask and should speak up, how often I should try to leave my comfort zone. If it weren't for email and voicemail, I'd speak up even less as I find asking for things in person incredibly daunting. I, too, would have gone home that night to wait. And I don't think it would have mattered in terms of the final outcome...but it would have matter to ME, internally, as I know it does to you. When my kids want something that I sense we might not be able to get, my default seems to be to have THEM ask. I'm teaching them, I reason, not to be like me, and to learn early how to ask for things, how to speak up. But that's only part of the story. In reality, it's also because I'm afraid of feeling stupid, of being embarrassed, of being told "no" even to something like asking for a stuffed lobster. For this (and for so many more things), you are an inspiration to me.

Heidi said...

Oh, I've missed your posts! I've taken a big break and I'm so happy to be here reading your writing, your heart.

When my car crash happened my mom was there. It happened right around the corner from my house and my mom heard it happen. After she rushed out and asked everyone who had pulled over if it was a red car with 2 girls in it, she stood at the sidewalk and waited. After the paramedics, police and fire fighters arrived someone drove her to the local hospital. Hours later, not knowing if I would live or die, I was taken to a hospital equipped to help save me and my mom went home. Everyone else drove to Vancouver and she returned to the quiet of the house.

Anyway, I'm telling you all of this because she said to me years later, "I don't know why I didn't go. But, I didn't. I needed to be at home. If something happened I knew someone would call." And I understood. I really did. I could always count on my mom then and now. I know it would be the same between you and Jack. You're a good mom, Anna. I hope I'm not overstepping here. I don't want to hurt you at all.

I can just picture that lobster and I love, love that you went after it for Margaret.

PeachPrenni said...

Love this post. The squeaky wheel gets the grease and sometimes you have to squeak!! I think it's a great lesson to teach your kids too because you don't always have to settle. Sometimes you do but not always. Life's too short! xo -Annie