I’m learning constantly, after all these years of preparing. It’s nice to be doing it as a semi-artificial emergency.  It looks very promising for Jeff to be given a new job with his same company that will be a ‘work from home’ arrangement. We won’t have a lapse in employment, if all goes as expected.
 Son Christopher will be home from his two-year Mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints TOMORROW! (He’s left Zimbabwe already)

So 26 days after my last shopping trip. . . I didn’t know I would be doing this when I last grocery shopped, which is appropriate. It took at least two weeks to really start running out of things in earnest. With Chris coming home tomorrow, I’m going shopping today, but I want to continue to use up storage.
After a batch of pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, I’m out of chocolate chips. But I want my family to have a treat to look forward to in the middle of their day at work or school. So I used cocoa powder in place of some of the flour and added peanuts. (Now I’m also out of peanuts and will use powdered peanut butter in the future) But these are delectable! (I had a few butterscotch chips left that I threw in, but they don’t need them.)

Chocolate peanut Cookies:
Cream together:
2 cups brown sugar
1 cup butter/margarine/shortening (I used a combination of all three)
2 teaspoons of vanilla
Add 4 eggs, (I used the equivalent powdered eggs and water)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
4  teaspoons baking powder
3/4 cup cocoa powder
1 1/4 cup whole wheat flour
3 cups rolled oats
1 and 1/2 cups peanuts. (If using peanut powder, substitute it for part of the flour. If using peanut butter, substitute for part of the shortening or butter)
Form into rounded tablespoons, flatten slightly and bake at 350 (Fahrenheit) for 11 minutes on an ungreased cookie sheet.

Thomas told me a few days ago that he didn’t like the dried apples, (too little flavor) but he had pretty well gotten used to the powdered milk. They’ve enjoyed the homemade bread all along. Jeff agreed on both counts. I have continued to mix the milk in the blender with hot water (2 cups powder to 2 cups water) and then add a lot of ice as I fill the jug the rest of the way with water. The ‘powdered’ taste is barely noticeable.
Sunday night, Jeff told me that he was tired off all the whole grain everything and wanted something different. We still had some pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, (also whole grain) so I think he was in the mood for something that wasn’t stewed or high fiber. I fixed him a quesadilla with green chilis and he was happy.

Yesterday, I soaked about three cups of dried apples, added sugar, cinnamon, cornstarch and a dollop of butter and cooked it in a saucepan until the liquid thickened. It had the flavor, consistency and appearance of Thanksgiving apple pie filling at its best. You would never have known that the apples had been dried in between. I served it between two pancakes, (whole wheat flour and some white flour, powdered eggs, powdered milk, baking soda, baking powder and salt. If you need a recipe with measurements, go to allrecipes.com ) I added the white flour because the powdered eggs don’t act as well to bind the batter as fresh eggs do. The white flour helped.
I made a thinner-than-pudding vanilla sauce from (stored) vanilla pudding mix and served it on top. It got rave reviews. Jeff commented that it was fun to have a “special treat” once in a while. It was more similar to a dessert than a typical meal, but the ingredients were equivalent to apple pancakes with syrup and yogurt on top.
  

It’s been twenty two days since I was last in a grocery store. Powdered milk, homemade bread, homecooked goodies. We’re living well!
We had company for dinner yesterday and I didn’t want to embarrass them by telling about our food storage project.
I served spaghetti with meat sauce,
The last of our lettuce with cucumbers and tomatoes in a salad,
Homemade cinnamon bread
cake-pudding dessert with a few stray raspberries from our backyard. I set the table with bright dishes and we all had a good time.

Unintended consequences of this project.
1. We’re all gradually losing unwanted weight. I wonder if it’s attributable to the high fiber diet that naturally goes with such a grain-rich diet.
2. We’re saving much more money than just our grocery bill. When we stay out of stores, we don’t spend money on other things either. I did stop at a thrift store for a couple of things, but I wasn’t as tempted to spend as I might otherwise be.
3. We’re enjoying the homemade breakfast muffins. I’m finding that the powdered eggs do very well in baked goods. (They’re pretty much worthless for eating plain).
4. I’m realizing that spices, seasonings and flavorings are critical for keeping this diet pleasant, so it doesn’t add stress. I need to get a better supply of garlic, cinnamon, nutmeg, and the kind of brown gravy mix they sell at Costco and Sam’s Club.

I had home dried some fresh pineapple and stored it in a mylar bag with an oxygen packet. It’s almost four years old. It seemed really dry going in, but I opened it today and it’s very dark and not as pleasant as it was. It’s a little sticky, too. It’s still tasty enough to enjoy, but it looks uglier and the flavor isn’t as good. I added no preservatives at all.
The apples I dried with a skiff of cinnamon and stored at the same time are great. No discoloration and delicious.

I’m learning some interesting things. Most people store lots of grain for long-term “food insurance”. They do this because grain is healthful food with an indefinite shelf life if properly stored. But what good is it?
Grain (particularly wheat) is ground into flour and from there, made into bread.
But baking bread at home can produce mixed results.
I’m motivated to produce something delicious and nutritious, that will reduce any stress we may feel by being enjoyable. I have a trick I highly recommend.
I must confess to my foodie friends that I own no Kitchenaid mixer. I own no Bosch food processor. I don’t want to have to store them. But when I watch “Fusion Grain Cooking” in the mornings on BYU channel, I sorta wish for a mixer that will produce lovely, elastic dough with so little effort.
VIOLA! I can get similar results with a hand mixer. Here’s the recipe:
100% Whole Wheat Bread
6 cups of warm water in large mixing bowl
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 oil
4 teaspoons of salt
3 eggs or 1/3 cup of egg powder, (I tried it with the egg powder and it was good)
mix all well with an electric hand mixer:
 add 6 cups of flour. (I used whole (white) wheat mixed with about 10% ground flax seed)
1/4 cup wheat gluten powder (I use Honeywell brand I bought on Amazon.com)
add 2 tablespoons of active dry yeast. I just opened another 1 lb. vacuum packed package of yeast. I’ve had it in my cupboard for about ten years. It was very active!
This will form a thick batter. Beat it with the mixer for about 5 minutes until it starts to thicken even more and become more elastic.
COVER IT AND LET IT RISE FOR about 40 minutes.
BLEND in about 6-7 more cups of the flour to make a soft, elastic, pliable dough. Knead for another ten minutes adding a little oil to the surface or flour if it’s too sticky.
Let it rest on for a few minutes and then cut it into three (large)  or 4 (average) pieces, form into loaves, drop into greased loaf pans and let rise until double.
Bake 350 until golden. . .about 35 minutes.
Dump out of pans right away so they don’t sweat. Let cool 15 minutes before slicing.
I like to slice the bread before I freeze part of it. It’s just more convenient.
Tasty with the soft, chewy texture we have paid big money for in
 restaurants.

I didn’t get the loaves very even in size. . .I was in a hurry! This loaf is slightly underdone, but the smaller ones were perfect. These loaves have very little flax seed in them, so they’re lighter in color.

 

Food Storage: Week one Day four

Today is the day I would ordinarily make my bi-monthly trip to the grocery store. I’ve got other things to do and I’m going to wait a week at least to see what I’m needing. Of course we’re almost out of milk and bread, so I decided now was as good a time as any to break out the powdered milk.
I grew up drinking powdered milk. I raised my older children on it. But our youngest, (Sep-Thomas) (If you’ve seen ‘Cranford’ you’ll remember what ‘Septimus’ represented,) has never had it much.

But I digress. I crawled into the back of the closet that goes under the stairs to rout out a box of milk. I just bought a new batch two months ago and I was sorely tempted to open the fresh stuff. But then the old stuff might NEVER get opened. I dug past the ’02 box (pulling out a vacuum pouch of 120 servings of vanilla pudding as I went) and found 1996. Perfect! In fact it was packaged in August of 1996, just weeks after Thomas was born.
 
I forgot that you’re supposed to open the #10 cans on the bottom. I almost jammed my can opener. It smelled fine. The powder tasted. . .fine. I think I remember that if it was instant milk, I noted it on the outside. This had no such note. So I blended it, two cups of powder to two cups of water. I half filled the gallon milk jug and strained the blended milk concentrate into a funnel that I filled with ice. (There was no need to strain it. It was thoroughly mixed. I added water to make a gallon and tried it out.

It tasted GREAT! (Considering that it’s 17-year-old milk powder.) But truly, it isn’t any different than it was when I dry-pack canned it with an oxygen packet.
Actually, it wasn’t great when it went in and it still isn’t great, but it isn’t any worse. I also know that letting it sit in the fridge for 5-6 hours will tone down the ‘powdered’ taste. I added half a teaspoon of Mexican vanilla to help it along, too.
I learned from a friend that mixing it initially with very hot water helps to eliminate the “powdered” flavor. CHILL it well before using.

FYI, The powdered milk producers have continue to progress in getting rid of that suspicious flavor. I’m confident that if we can get through the old stuff, we’ll taste a progressively better product as we approach the present-day technology-flavor.

Last night we had tostadas with mashed beans, chopped grilled chicken, salsa, cheese and lettuce. The LAST of the potato salad on the side.

I also made cookies using peanut butter powder, powdered eggs, butter and margarine, (I’ll run out of that pretty soon), oats, wheat/flax seed flour. (All brown sugar) and a pack of chocolate chips. They’re good! Thomas usually objects when I “add all that junk” (as in whole grain flour or bean flours) but the peanut butter powder adds a nuttiness that mutes the “healthful” flavor that he objects to. I’m realizing that I don’t have enough peanut butter or PB powder if we were to live on stored food very long.
 

Living on Food Storage: Day three week one

The pinch hasn’t started really yet. I’ve been in the habit of grocery shopping every two weeks and tomorrow’s the day I would ordinarily go, so next week, when I haven’t gone, my teenage son is going to notice that we’re drinking mixed milk. We ordinarily drink skim, so it isn’t that different. We may also run out of store-bought bread, so I’ll need to start making that regularly.
That said, last night’s supper was food storage-based and yummy. I’ve still got lots of fresh stuff in my fridge and my garden is producing cucumbers, melons, tomatoes and green beans, (zucchini is just starting and potatoes are just finishing.)The deer keep eating the tops off of the okra, so I doubt I’ll get any this year.

One thing I’ve learned from ‘living on the cheap’ experiments is that it’s wise to cook the things that take a long time in bulk and then they’re ready to use when you need them. Yesterday afternoon, I pressure cooked two pounds of red beans and a pound and a half of brown rice (separately). Last week I grilled five pounds of chicken breasts, too.

For those of you who don’t often use a pressure cooker, brown rice can be cooked perfectly by bringing it up to ten pounds of pressure for 8 minutes and then turning off the heat. So it’s a little faster than cooking white rice on the stove top. Brown rice has more body, both in flavor and consistency.

Cajun Fill’erup

Saute in a little canola oil in a large skillet:
1 chopped onion
 1  chopped green pepper
1 cup chopped zucchini (any green vegetable would work. This would traditionally be celery)
When almost tender, add:
2 cups cooked red beans
2 cups cooked brown rice
1 chopped grilled chicken breast
1 cup bottled salsa
salt, pepper, garlic to taste.
Serve with a little hot sauce, if you’re the saucy sort.

 

I’ve estimated, budgeted, planned, canned and purchased. Then my kids started leaving the nest instead of filling it up. All of a sudden we’re down to one (soon to have a few months with two as Chris comes home from his two-year mission in Africa).
 
My husband was laid off last week. He’s the breadwinner. I bring in a few dollars here and there from my writing, but not enough to buy bread and milk on a consistent basis (yet). (There it is folks, aspire to be a writer and you aspire to a very lean figure). Of course we have hope and faith that my Sweetheart will quickly replace his employment, hopefully within the company he has enjoyed working for so much over the years.
For now, were tightening belts, slashing the budget and solving another problem. We’ve got far more food storage than we need or want to move or will likely fit in the downsized house we plan to get.

This blog will serve as a journal of living on the food storage and a bare bones budget. I hope it’s a journal of living well. I’m not going to cheat on nutrition. Good health is an important part of well-being! We’ll start with a recipe for peanut butter muffins. I made four dozen this morning. They’ll serve as breakfasts and snacks for a week or so.

2 cups of instant milk powder reconstituted in

¾ cup of powered eggs. (not reconstituted) (These have been stored for over ten years (sealed plastic bucket with oxygen absorbers) and taste very cardboardy. But they weren’t that great when they went into the bucket, either. I tried cooking them like scrambled eggs and it didn’t work at all; just yellow slime) This is the equivalent of about 6 eggs. 
½ cup of oil
4 cups of (old fashioned) rolled oats
1 cup of peanut butter powder (this has been open in my cupboard for about 4 years. If you’re using regular peanut butter, cut the oil in half and use ¾ cups of  peanut butter.)
1 tablespoon of Mexican vanilla. (order this on the internet unless you live in San Antonio and can buy it at the Mercado. Danncy brand. It’s much cheaper than grocery stores and a thousand times better.)
1 cup of sugar
1 Tablespoon salt
4 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 ½ cups of special flour. (My blend. I bought a number ten can of flax seed, but it’s unground. Later, I read that it’s unwise to use flax seed whole because the seed has a sharp point and can lodge in the intestine and cause problems. It’s far too oily to grind in an electric wheat grinder by itself, (I tried and it clogged up the machine like nobody’s business). So I mix it with two parts white wheat and one part flax seed to grind. The resulting flour is very high fiber and includes Omega 3 fatty acids for healthy hearts. (It’s also quite oily) The flavor is mildly nutty. I still want the unground flax seed because it has a much longer shelf life than pre-ground. It’s been in my cupboard for a year already without any taste of rancidity. When I run out of flax seed, I’ll just use wheat flour. (Celiacs use ground brown rice flour in equal proportions with or without flax seed)

Stir the whole concoction very well and divide into 48 greased or sprayed muffin cups. Bake 22 minutes at 350.
They’re delicious! I was worried about the egg powder but there is no trace of cardboard flavor. The crumb is light and the peanut butter flavor is pleasant without overwhelming the vanilla. This one’s a keeper!

I have recently been noticing how surprisingly my Father in Heaven shows his hand in my life. I realize that when he promises to “lead us by the hand” if we turn to Him, He means what He says!
For instance: Last Friday night, I dreamed that I saw my sister in law beckoning to me. I asked, “Are you telling me that it’s time for me to die?” She nodded, smiling and welcoming. So I obediently stopped what I was doing and leapt into death. It felt like leaping through a strong spider’s web into a deep feather bed.

I stood up and thought, “If I’m dead, I might be able to fly! Shauna laughed, “Go ahead and try it.” I soared up into the sky and danced in three dimensions for awhile. (Amazing fun!) But then I realized I ought to go to heaven. So I jumped as high as I could, but I was pulled back to earth. I jumped again and again with the same result.

I thought, “Well, this really stinks. Maybe I’m supposed to go down. So I burrowed into the earth but thankfully,I made even less headway. There was no passage for me. I realized that I had something to do before I proceeded onward. I found I could help people with many tasks, even though most mortals couldn’t see me. No matter how difficult the task I observed, I could help them. What a joy it was to bring relief to those who didn’t expect it and to be like the shoemaker’s elves.

 I’ve often been prone to vivid dreams. Sometimes I’ve known their significance but mostly they are just the result of something I had thought about the day before.

The day after I had this particular dream, my beloved Uncle Bob died. I knew that it had been imminent, and I had been thinking of him and musing on how much I would miss him.
The tender mercy of the Lord took the form this time of preparing me for an easier mourning, since I had dreamed of my own death the night before. It held no dread. It was joyful. I was reunited with (or anticipated the reunions) with many that I love. The dream helped me to focus on the relief and joys that surround death instead of suffering my own loss. Perhaps I can be more useful to Eleanor because my own grief is assuaged.  

Uncle Bob and I used to exchange emails several times a week. We became very close. We’ve visited Bob and Eleanor in their homes and they’ve visited us in ours’. We travelled the highlands of Scotland with them with Bob as tour guide extraordinaire, (They had a home there.)

He was an honest critic of my writing. He’d read everything I sent him and respond honestly.(Sometimes he praised and sometimes he didn’t. He’d tactfully say, “This isn’t up to your usual standard.”)

 Sometimes he’d send me things he’d written. I helped edit his thriller novel “Last Hope.” He was so interesting to talk to. He remembered details of cases he’d tried and could always spin them into colorful yarns. He’d been a successful defense lawyer and later a California Superior Court judge. He retired from judging quite awhile ago, but had continue working as an assigned judge until the year before last when California couldn’t afford to pay for part timers anymore.  He’d been a marine in WW2, stationed in the Pacific. He has five children, (four living; my cousin ‘Lucky’ died a few years ago of breast cancer.)
He became more politically liberal as he got older. I told him he was being corrupted by watching too much CNN. He hinted that perhaps I was watching too much Fox News. sigh* He commented recently that he knew Barak Obama would be the last president in his lifetime. I think by then, he’d stopped thinking about politics much. His attention seemed mostly drawn toward those he loved, particularly Eleanor.  

For the last six months or so, Bob’s body had been failing. He was slow to respond to emails and sometimes apparently missed reading ones I sent.  He repeatedly injured himself falling and consequent stays in the hospital weakened his email habit. Last year, he and Eleanor planned to come to Oklahoma again. But the weather turned ferocious and they were worried about tornados. They doubted that they could navigate the steps into our shelter. The day of their planned arrival, a series of tornado scoured Oklahoma and I was relieved that they had ‘delayed’ their trip until the fall. But they didn’t travel far after that. A three hour trip to Las Vegas for my nephew’s wedding was as far as they ever went.  He required regular blood transfusions. He wasn’t making hemoglobin anymore.
A few months ago, he complained of a sore throat. He was aspirating food or drink he took by mouth. He’d already had throat cancer once, (lost a vocal chord to it) and I feared it had returned.
But until the end, he did not go softly into that dark night. He continued to try to find a solutions to his ailments. I think he hung on for Eleanor’s sake. They’ve been so much together for so many years, I think he was as mystified by what she would do without him as he was by what he would do without her.
I had often wondered that myself. When Bob told a story, Eleanor would look at him with such an enthusiastic expression, smiling and nodding, so proud of him, you could tell she was “crazy about him” Imagine! 50+ years and still ‘crazy in love!” He always treated her so gently and thought of clever ways to surprise and please her. When Eleanor had her stroke, Bob’s brief emails referred to her so tenderly, always asking us to pray for her full recovery.

But the moment I read my cousin’s email notifying me of Uncle Bob’s death, the vivid sensation of leaping through a spider’s web into a soft, comfortable bed, and the utter naturalness of being dead but continuing to care and love and think and question, dampened the sorrow.

Bob told his priest that he was ready to meet Jesus. How I would love to read your emails now, dear Uncle! What did He say? What did you say? Did you bathe His feet with your tears? Did He say, “Well done!”?

I won’t be receiving emails from Bob anymore. But someday, I’ll jump through that thin, fragile veil into the soft embrace of death. I’ll ask him in person. Until we meet again,

 Much love to you, dear Uncle,

Beth xoxoxoxoxo  

I’m going to take a moment to update this pseudo journal. My daughter Tricia finally found a wonderful husband and is now happily married to Walt and living two hours away.

Grandbabies are healthy, happy and multiplying. (It sounds like cell division when it’s worded that way.)
Christopher is doing the brackets for the ping pong tournament.

Kate’s fishy face

Only Chris is missing. He’s on a mission in Zimbabwe!

The tornadoes in Oklahoma on May 20, 21 and 31 killed about 50 people. The stories that come out of that sort of an event are amazing, both inspiring and dreadful.
After the May 31 event, my friend who is in charge of LDS public affairs for Central Oklahoma called me and asked me to fill a request by Elder Ronald A Rasband of the presidency of the Seventy in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, to write a story for the (LDS) Church News. There were about a dozen elements that Elder Rasband wanted to have included, (namely who he wanted quotes from) and my friend Jan felt like it required a bit more than she could provide. Front page stories for a widely circulated publication (about a quarter million print issues and many more online readers) are gold to a writer. . .This is my second front page article and the fifth or sixth time they’ve used stories I’ve written. Here’s the link to the resulting article if you’re interested. http://www.lds.org/church/news/elder-rasband-brings-comfort-to-tornado-alley-members?lang=eng (There are lots of pictures in this link, so I won’t add them here.)
As I was writing it, the Black Forest, where we lived longer than any other place, (14 years) burned down. Our former home did not, but many people we care about did lose their homes. Interestingly, many more of our friends had recently moved away and their former homes burned to the ground. I’m sorry for those who lost their homes. . .but it’s hard not to be a little glad that so many of our friends were spared that pain. Everyone involved understands that it was long overdue. The forest was diseased with dwarf mistletoe and pine bark beetle. In some areas, it hardly seemed like a forest, with the pines twisted by the mistletoe or entirely dead from the bark beetle. There had simply been too much drought for too long for the trees to remain healthy.
I always wondered what it would be like to live in the last days. Fire, whirlwinds, famine, wars, rumors of wars, corruption, wickedness, hardened hearts. . .Yep. He won’t be long.

 

Today, angels are hanging yellow ribbons in answer to our pink ribbons.
I first met Shauna shortly after Jeff and I got engaged. She and her friend LeAnne invited us to dinner at their Provo apartment. Shauna wore a red bandanna on her head, tied at the base of her neck like a pirate. They served “Forgotten Chicken.” There was plenty for all of us, but for some reason, Shauna and LeAnne didn’t eat. . .they just watched us. I have never been a tidy eater. . .I was very nervous.
Shauna and I laughed about that first meeting many times. Of all people to be nervous about meeting, I didn’t need to worry about Shauna. She’s the sort that likes people. . .cares about people. She has a tender heart with a strong affinity for the weak, the outcast, the underdog.
 She met her future husband the summer before Jeff and I were married and she and Jim were married about three months after we were. We have always enjoy their easygoing, affable manners, good humor  and cheerful dispositions.
When Shauna and Jim were first married, they got a little dog. I think it was a stray, but they might have been foolish enough to choose it at the pound. They named it Munchkin. Munchkin had very crooked teeth with a distinct under bite and thin, wiry hair. He was just ugly enough for Shauna to love. (No Jim, she made an exception when she chose you!) But he was neither the first nor the last of that sort of Shauna’s bodyguards.
Shauna’s word for anything/one mean or hateful or dishonest was “stinky.” It seems to me that the word implies a temporary condition. My sister-in-law always chose to see people as “being stinky” when they behaved viley, not as ‘worthless,’ hopeless, or ‘no good.’ She could (and did) forgive aggressive and calculated evil.
Not too long ago, something killed a little duck that lived in her feathered menagerie. Jim found it and secretly buried it. He told Shauna that it must have flown off somewhere. I wonder if that duck was waiting on the other side to tell her that Jim lied? 
Shauna was dependable and capable. She kept her word. She did not seek the lime light. She had the Stephenson hesitation to be up front and got very nervous about performing. But she did what she had to do, like it or not.

It was only about a year and a half ago when Shauna was 54, that she was diagnosed with a very aggressive type of breast cancer. They believed it had already metastasized by the time they found it. Although the progress of the disease was inhibited by every means possible and she had the best medical attention, going to Stanford for their high class treatments. . .it merely slowed the progress. Even during the most powerful and intense chemo therapy, the cancer grew.
 Shauna said she wasn’t nervous about death, but she had seen her father die and dreaded the final struggle. She felt deeply grateful for her husband and children and had peace in her hope in Christ.
Just after Christmas the tests all came back grim. The cancer had spread and there was nothing else that could be done to stop it. Terminal.
Ah, but they were wrong. They understood only the nature of cancer, but not the nature of the human spirit. Shauna’s spirit, the part of that creature that makes her my loving, tender-hearted, funny, hospitable sister-in-law, is not terminal!
The doctors predicted right, too. Yesterday, Shauna separated from her mortal body for a time. She died quietly, just a ceasing of breath releasing her from a cancer-ruined body.
 She was received with joy and rejoicing by her dad, her grandparents and other loved ones. The hand that brought her through the veil of mortality was pierced on the cross of Calvary. She is no more ‘terminal’ than a train passing through a dark tunnel. We won’t see her for a time, but in the morning of the first resurrection, she’ll be restored to a glorified, perfect body and will never, never for all eternity, die.
I think yesterday there was also a chorus of gruff yips, clucks, meows and wagging backsides hailing their Beloved Shauna. I have no doubt that her motley crew spread the word, (the way they seemed to do here,) and that the furry welcoming committee had swelled to thousands of Les Miserables… the Mother Theresa of the animal kingdom.
Ah, Shauna, we’ll miss you! Jim will be so lonely without you. Your children and grandchildren, who know even better than I the reach and scope of your love, will ache from your absence.
But then again, now there’s one more person I love waiting on the other side. The sting of death is a little less sharp. My hope in Christ is a little more acute. The joy of the promise of resurrection and eternal families is sweeter yet, and time is a little thing: A little, mortal, fleeting thing. I’ll see you there!