Best Life NOW! Blog

I should not have smelled roses this time of year.  It is the middle of April in Indiana.  But I did.   Roses are nowhere near to blooming here this time of year.  Yet a t the exact moment that I was reflecting and remembering Father John Strebig there was the very strong fragrance of roses. Father Strebig passed away last week.  I attended his prayer service and afterward I went for a walk in the park.  I've walked this path many times over the years.  However, this time was different.  As I was thinking of Father Strebig I smelled roses.   In Northwest Indiana, in the middle of April - I am smelling roses.   Then I remembered Father Strebig's devotion to Mary.  Part of that devotion is the association to Mary of roses.   What joy!  What an incredible gift from Father Strebig. Father Strebig played a very big role in my life.  As a convert, he taught me the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  He joined my husband and I in marriage and when I was hospitalized many yea

My dad's handwriting I have always been self conscious about my handwriting.  My mother's handwriting is perfect.  I mean, just lovely.  Then there's mine.  No matter how I tried - I just could not measure up to hers. If someone said, "my handwriting is the worst," I would challenge them to look at mine.  I always won. Recently, my perspective has changed.  A sample of my dad's handwriting can be seen above.  I was floored when I saw this.  It is identical to my - what I thought - was awful handwriting.  Now, admittedly, it is not the best.  What changed my perspective is that it is my dad's handwriting and even though I grew up without him - my handwriting matches.   How cool is that?  Answer - very . Finding this, I feel like somehow my dad is still influencing me.  I am also taking a part of him into the future. So - sloppy handwriting is now my mark of honor. What's your joy on the other side of grief? In Joy, Wendy

I found this photo recently.  My dad is on the ladder and my grandpa is below. My joy on the other side of grief today is finding photos like this that I had never seen before. What joy can you find from your grief today? In Joy, Wendy