A letter to Nadine

I can't stop thinking about you. It must be the time of year, with the race just around the corner and all. Whatever the reason, you've been on my mind a lot. I miss you more than I can express and the way you lived your life is a constant reminder of the way I want to live mine. You are withouth a doubt someone who made this world a better place and I'd like to think at the end of my life, I might have done the same.



You were such a beautiful woman. Not only in your appearance, but deep down into your soul, you were beautiful. Kind, loving, giving, patient, generous, loyal.. The list goes on.. One of my favorite things about you was your sense of humor. I will never forget the year that you drew Curt's name in the gift exchange and gave him the gift of snowman poop. His reaction of not being certain if you were serious or not only made it better. I think about times like these and it makes my heart ache. Because I miss you, of course, but also because I'm left wishing I had taken more time to talk with you. And to listen.



I wish you had been able to see and hold my children. I try to remain thankful that I got to share the news of my first pregnancy with you - I realize it's more than my younger cousins will have - but I can't help but feel ripped off somehow, and a little jealous of my older cousins who got to have you in their children's lives.



I admire how content you were. You lived simply, and you were content. Your home was small, and the only one I have ever known you to live in. And you raised five children there. Most days, I struggle with the two I have. I cannot imagine raising five - especially in such close quarters. Yet you did it, and you did it well. I don't think I've ever heard you complain either. About anything.



I adore your faith and loyalty. Mom gave me your Bible and it's one of my most treasured posessions. It sits proudly on my mantle and once in awhile, the kids and I will sit down and look through it. I love the family tree section and wish it was filled out more completely. And I love that it has your handwriting in it.
I told them the story about the fifty dollar bill that you found in it. About how you were worried about your finances, so you opened up your Bible to pray, and there it was. That's one of my favorite stories.



I'm grateful to have you and Grandpa as an example of what a marriage should be like. I doubt it was perfect (although I can't ever remember seeing you fight). I'm certain there were difficult times. But through it all, love remained. You treated eachother with love and respect and you built a strong foundation on which to raise your family. You welcomed others into your home and helped those in need.



I hope you know how often I think about you. Your clock hangs in my dining room and every time it chimes, I smile. I can't see a rosebush without thinking of your beautiful rose garden (and you pruning in your bra). :) I sometimes call my daughter by her middle name, just so I can say yours, and I wish I had just given her your name as her first like I had wanted. I wish I could tell you how much you meant to me, although I'd like to think you knew.