Ricky Lee Mosher June 21, 1955 to November 22, 2008

Thursday, November 22, 2018


I can hear the early morning sound of your coffee grinder chopping beans to a pulp. Is it Guatemalan, Ethiopian, or is it Kenyan today? The delicious smell wafts through the house as you invite the hot nectar to stir you awake. On your way to the clothing that would protect you from the cold, you kiss my cheek and whisper words of love. Our boy sleeps in the bedroom nearby. Ready to make the hour-long journey, one last kiss.


Ten has been rather unkind to me, dear Ricky, always lurking. Ten brought with him uninvited guests, Guilt and Remorse. But Guilt and Remorse would not tease me about our marriage. No. Instead they found my weaker place and torment me about our boy. About the very specific memories of me failing him as a mother beginning with yesterday, traveling through that knock on the door, weaving through his childhood, and coming to rest at his birth. Our sweet, sensitive boy. Every moment of failure replayed in slow motion as though time was filled only with Guilt and Remorse, those selfish guests.


The presence of Ten throughout the year differs from Nine and Eight and the rest. Those others appeared mostly around November, but Ten has been with me all year long. Ten is so very big. The enormity of Ten strikes me more deeply than the enormity of your absence. That’s a funny thing. Perhaps the peaceful satisfaction of our lives well lived, and the joy that is this new creation…this surprise of hope, provides some sense of freedom. But Ten, why must you be so heavy? What are you trying to tell me?


While indeed Ten is heavy and those uninvited guests occupy far too much space, I trust that “…the very act of voicing our trouble to God begins a conversation in which we have opened ourselves up to his care, his mercy, and his provision” (Manion, 2010, p. 79). I simply marvel at how my heavenly Father gave individual attention to this existence of mine and intricately designed a beautiful life of unswerving faith and that he continues to go ahead of me weaving even Ten and his friends into something glorious.


Thursday, November 22, 2012

Farewell to Year Four

Dear Ricky,

Four years today.
So much to say.
Quiet peace.

I give thanks.


“To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen” (Jude 24-25, NIV).