Even So, It Is Well With My Soul

A beautiful remembrance

Friends. It’s been a long time since I’ve written. Which means a lot of things have happened. Which means I have a lot to write. In one of my last posts I explained that my  Auntie Linda died. I made the long journey back for her funeral in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania. Candidly, my family has a unique sense of faith. And, quite frankly, we’re all hellions at best.

A list of her favorite things, made by Tom (husband)

Auntie Linda was a hellion. The best kind. She did a lot of hellacious things in her life. I won’t write them here or my mother will call me at 0300 hysterical, “HOW COULD YOU WRITE THOSE THINGS FOR EVERYONE TO SEE?!” Auntie Linda was proud of “those things.” I digress (I don’t). Once of the greatest things Auntie Linda did was love her husband, Tom.

A painting Auntie Linda made in 1998

Tom is nothing like Linda. Where she’s proud, he’s down-to-earth; where she’s stubborn, he’s idealistic. He made her laugh and he made her love. They had this little book that they wrote in–back and forth to each other–throughout the week. I never knew that. Tom created the “Best Wife Award” game where he rated Auntie Linda against the other wives in our family. She always seemed to win.


But for all the things Auntie Linda was or wasn’t, Linda loved me so hard and so fast and so strong. And there’s something odd about not feeling that kind of love radiating out there in the world anymore.

Additional photos from time home:

A whole slew of cousins!
A rare photo of the four siblings…who can’t seem to look at the camera at the same time. Seriously I took like 30 photos.
Trentonian and Aunt Tito
I’ve inherited my mother’s sense for fashion
My brother, my mother, and my sister
One last family dinner before we head our separate ways 😦

But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,

The sky, not the grave, is our goal;

Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!

Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,


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