Guilt Free Crispy Bacon?! A Note from Jan. Jud's Journal Entry Forty-two.

Had breakfast at the Ipswich Inn with Martha, friend, editor-in-chief. Crispy bacon served with a friend! Unbeatable comfort.

Afterwards, I headed for a work out at the BMW at Gordon (Balance Mobility Wellness Center). Feeling a little bacon-related guilt . . .guilt being the gift, as Garrison Keillor says, that keeps on giving…

Actually, I had three reasons for visiting the balance center.

1. Defense against crispy bacon
2. To honor Jud, a faithful, disciplined, much-loved user of the BMW, though neither of us had been back in months, since MGH replaced BMW.
3. Our two youngest granddaughters

Friday morning, after taking Lily to Logan, I encouraged Chad and Kristina to pack up camp. (We’d been like a litter of puppies all huddled together since Jud died).  The deal:  leave the girls with me for a sleepover. That way I wouldn’t be alone and Chad and Kristina could clean their house and get organized for the week ahead without the antics of 4 and 7 year olds. They’d made so many sacrifices over the past weeks to support Jud and me. Time for them to tend each other and leave the grand girls to me.

Maggie, Kate (aka Poco) and I watched a Christmas movie and CupCake Wars (Maggie’schoice … she’d learned of it from Lily, the baker), slurped root beer floats (Jud’s Suds from Gordon days) and huddled together in the Snuggery.  At bedtime, Maggie read Snuggle Puppy to us and I, a Christmas story, followed by some singing.

I sang both Sunday School favorites and Christmas songs.  Kate imitated her Popo while I sang.  Jud used to stand behind me and silently mimic what I sang, sending the girls into giggle-fits. They’d point and shout, “Look, Momo!” I’d whirl around to find a frozen-in-place grandfather, innocent as a lamb.  The girls squealed, delighted they’d put one over on me.  I’d then start singing again, and Jud would carry on the charade we performed for the love of grandchildren.

Four-year-old Kate assumed the role of mimic tonight. In plain sight. Curled up next to her sister.  So I’d pretend to look only at Maggie as I sang, while Kate performed her Popo imitation. I’d turn my head toward her. She’d freeze.  Girls giggling. Trying to comfort each other and me with something, anything, familiar. SAME.

They slept well until bright and early Saturday morning and then crawled in with me, which is why I cited them as reason #3 for heading to the BMW Center today. It began with Maggie’s, “Momo, your skin’s so soft.” Nice, I thought, as each took one of my hands, tracing veins, patting soft, though freckled-with-age skin. Then, while resting her head on my stomach, Kate said, “You’re nice and squishy, Momo.” Hmmmmmmm Next Maggie took my upper arm and noticed it had skin that moved with ease. Way too much ease. She proceeded to “exercise” it for me singing, “up and down, up and down.” Back and forth, back and forth was more accurate.

So, today I headed back to the BMW. Met more of the NET there. Ross and Marie hugged some health into me. While I cycled, watched some forgettable replays from the Pats vs. Green Bay game.  I need distractions.

Some of the NET showed up at my perch last night to watch the game with me. Chad arrived first, followed by John and Dawn Sarouf and their kids, bearing gifts of friendship and spaghetti with meatballs and sausage. Mark Stevick joined the party, making losing bearable. Fun to scream about a game. Just a game.

Had lunch with Lisa on campus today and talked about the reception to follow the memorial service. So many NET huggers in Lane … Kathryn, Jim, Glen, AnnMarie, Pam and more.  Health givers. Spent the rest of the afternoon at home working on Jud’s service.

Today’s been a good day, so far. A workout sandwiched between breakfast and lunch with friends. Whoops! What’s wrong with this picture? I can see Jud rolling his eyes, withholding comment.  That’s part of how we could celebrate 51+ years of married LIFE … not “marital BLISS.” LIFE. Who thought up that fluffy “bliss” part? But it was good so good for so long that I find myself wishing I could whirl around and find Jud standing behind me, eyes twinkling—no longer a “frozen-in-place grandfather looking innocent as a lamb”—but with hands outstretched … reaching for me.

Good grief. What’s good about it?! Hitting hard as I write. I whirl around Jud’s not there. 

Oh, God, no Jud. How does life go on? Nothing’s the same.

From somewhere I sense that nudge … Jesus … the SAME … yesterday, today, forever.” I’ve read that. In the Bible. On wall plaques. Sounds like bumper sticker material. Easy to say. To write. But …   You? Really.

I whirl around and somehow catch a sense of You. Here. Big as LIFE. Bigger.

Then from nowhere comes a simple song. Sung TO me as a child. Sung BY me to our grandchildren. Now FOR me. Momo, the grandmother. “Jesus loves me, This I KNOW for the Bible tells me so.” Deep truth. No mimic behind me. You. Scarred hands, reaching, reminding me that nothing about YOU is frozen in time. You, innocent Lamb. The SAME. Predictable.

I love those hands. Yours. Jud’s. Maggie and Kate’s who reach and call me soft and squishy. Ross, Marie, Lisa, Martha, Dawn, John, Mark, Jim, Kathryn, Ann Marie, Pam,Glen, Chad, my neighbor Beth …  who all reach and hug with arms and hands … your hands through theirs.

Jud’s with you now. I get it. I’m not delusional. Just missing him. Stuffing a hole with crispy bacon, I suppose.

It’s good to know YOU don’t change, God. Everything else feels up for grabs right now. until I quiet myself and think on YOU.

One day I’ll whirl around and find you for real God … not just by faith. and find Jud too. And maybe even crispy bacon without guilt.