Taylored Memorial Creations

                  Ed’s bad knees are what catapulted him into wanting knee replacement surgery. However, Ed, with his usual zealousness for what he believed in, wanted to do both knees at the same time. I felt like it was too much, but he felt like he wanted to reduce the time he would be laid up in recovery if the knees were done separately.                He needed permission from both his cardiologist—due to a heart issue he had the previous year—and his regular doctor before the surgeon would sign off on the procedure.                I was surprised when he let me know that his surgery was approved, and it was scheduled for October 11th.                I took the day off so I could be there for his surgery. It was most of the morning that day, spent sitting in a special waiting room just for me. I did have a friend stop by, but for the most part I sat there contemplating our life of 29 years together.                Funny how you never know when you are about to enter a tim

  When we moved to an apartment in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, we were only there eight months when systemic remodeling at the apartment complex caused us to move. However, it was within the same apartment complex, just down the sidewalk into a different building, in another first-floor apartment. We asked for help moving and we had several people from our church come and help us--but most of those who came were homeless. It was those homeless we knew from our contacts with homeless in the area--and we knew many of them. Ed had a way with connecting with the homeless, and we became involved with a couple of local ministries, and even began a laundry ministry coordinated with two other churches in the area. We spent many Saturdays sitting across the table from homeless as they did their laundry at the local laundromat. This was the result of a need we saw in the homeless community—the ability to wash their clothes. We worked with two other churches, one who provided the qu

We lived in Iowa for eighteen years and gained two kids, two dogs and one cat along the way. In 2005 we moved to Washington, Illinois. Packing up our entire life in that 3-bedroom, 2-story home was exhausting. Did I mention the two-car garage? It took months of working after I got home from work to sort through and box up all the clothes, toys, paper, and books. So many books! My husband had an affinity for books, and it was reflected in our huge collection of books for our kids. We mostly boxed things up and didn't throw things away or donate them. It was exhausting. The last room we packed was our "office/mudroom". This room was so FULL of boxes, it was difficult to walk through. It was a mudroom that also had two filing cabinets, some built in cabinets full of “stuff”, and a computer with those office “in” boxes that were stuffed full of, I’m sure, what was incredibly important documents that needed to be kept. The room itself held years of paid invoices, bank stat

                     I love getting mail. Who doesn’t want to be greeted by a card in your mailbox? I especially love cards that elicit a laugh or smile or cause a tear to form in the corner of my eye. And I love finding Christmas cards in my mailbox. And mailing Christmas cards!             There is something about the excitement of knowing that someone else picked out a card for you, and the mystery of waiting to open the envelope and see what card lies inside. And the fact that someone decided what greeting or note to write inside and then paid the high price of a stamp to have it delivered to your door.                I think it is a great way to let those you love, who might live far away, know that you are thinking of them. When I mail a card, I love imagining the point when they open the card and read my handwritten message inside. That the person would smile, or laugh, enjoying not only the card I picked out for them, but the written message inside.                But,