Everybody's Dyin', Ya Better Get God

We like to listen to the Carter Family. We purchased the box set and it's one of our favorites. That being said, they sure had a flare for the dramatic. I guess the Great Depression would do that to a person.

We took the kids out last night to look at the moonflowers. They only bloom at night and they are as big as salad plates! Their time is short but they are so beautiful, it doesn't matter.



Some of you have expressed concern about my sickness and why I've started writing about dying. I didn't respond to some texts last night but that's because I fell asleep. I was not dead.

I've had a suspicious lump in my right armpit for at least two months. Now, it's been joined by some of the other lymph nodes. I've had suspicious lumps before but the doctor told me to wait and see last time. This time, he seemed concerned. After my course of antibiotics for my upper respiratory infection and bronchitis is finished, I am to return for a biopsy. Biopsies sound like death to me. I don't even like the word. I'm terrified of cancer.



My husband has been very attentive. He's worried about me, too. He built a fire in the chimnea for me. The kids ran around like wild beasts. We laughed and talked. We sat on the bench and snuggled. We both wonder what is under my arm.



As we sat, watching the fire, the Carter's began to sing a song about a deadly tornado. When we'd had enough of that, J gathered the kids. When we got them both bathed and in bed, he sang a song for me.

The Ghost In Your Eyes

She came from the city

dusty and tired,

worn just a little too thin.

She was not afraid

of living or dying,

only of being alone.

But I can see the ghost in your eyes

and the stars that shine in your sky.

I can see the traces of a life gone by.

I can feel the thunder you left behind.

She left from the city

her memories in the mirror,

speeding on through the night.

She was not afraid 

of staying or leaving, 

just had to keep moving on.

But I can see the ghost in your eyes

and the stars that shine in your sky.

I can see the traces of a life gone by.

I can feel the thunder you left behind.

Isn't that beautiful? He wrote that for me. And he sang it to me. And he couldn't be more awesome to me, even if he tried.