It is never easy when we lose someone we love. It seems to be even harder when it is unexpected.
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This weekend our view lost a beautiful woman. She was a loved wife and mother, sister and friend. I knew her as my mom’s maid of honor and my mom her matron of honor. I knew her as a Northwest mom. Many know her husband, Kent Boughton, NTV’s Chief Forecaster.
Behind every great man is a great woman cheering him on and that was Lori.
He said it perfectly late last night on his Chief Forecaster Facebook page.
We need to tell our spouses often how much we love them. We need to kiss them. We need to hug them. We never know when it will be our last time.
Rest In Peace Lori. Our thoughts and prayers are with your family!
I was sitting on the floor of my daughter’s nursery. She was still admitted in the NICU, but my mom was determined to find a solution for her ever-growing bow collection. She’d found herself prioritizing projects and tasks in anticipation of discharge and today was no different. The hospital called and reviewed her results. They’d found the reason for her inability to wean from oxygen. I hung up and wept. “I don’t think I can take much more.” RELATED: Everyone Warns You About Childbirth But No One Warns You About a NICU Stay My mom, also a Jesus lover, shared...
I grew up going to church. Every Sunday, my parents got us four kids up and going, and we’d head to Sunday school followed by the church service. I remember when I was really young, I’d written a note of sorts to Jesus and put it in my window in hopes He would see it. I’m not sure if He saw it, but a friend did. They made fun of me, and I was so embarrassed. How silly of me to write a note to Jesus? What was I thinking? As a young kid and soon as a young adult,...
Trigger warning: This article discusses abortion Many years ago, I heard a statistic that one out of every four people sitting in church has had a personal experience with abortion. I don’t know how relevant that statistic is today, but that number always stuck with me. One out of four. Could that be right? Could one out of four of us be sitting here with this controversial word as a part of our story? How many of us in this room are silently guarding our hidden shame with a fortress of internal walls that we’ve created to keep the judgmental...
Please, don’t tell her how to grieve . . . She’s in the kitchen washing dishes with her back to you. You approach her with two cups in hand. Fingerprints smeared on the glass. A good few gulps of milk left sloshing around. You place them beside the sink and look to her apologetically. She doesn’t notice you. Steam rises from the faucet, and scorching water runs over her hands as she absently scrubs at an already clean pot. Her eyes are not on the sink but trained out the window. You follow her gaze to a red bird flitting...
In my early 20s, I moved to LA to be an actor and my mom used to drive out to visit me. We’d go out on the town to do touristy things that I was usually too cool for, such as visiting the concrete footprints of Grauman’s Theater, eating fancy dinners at the Roosevelt hotel, and buying cheesy trinkets at the overpriced Hollywood shops. I still have a plastic “World’s Best Daughter” Academy Award she presented to me one night. I received that best daughter award the same year I drove home for Mother’s Day only to get so drunk...
The calls and texts were overwhelming the week she died. Between supporting my devastated parents, planning the funeral, and keeping myself from collapsing in my own sorrow, I was running on empty. So, I ignored most of the messages—confident I’d hear from everyone again when things quieted down. But then things quieted down, and my phone also quieted down. They didn’t keep calling. RELATED: We Can’t Talk People Out Of Their Grief, But We Can Sit With Them Through it This was OK at first, even good. I needed some space to grieve, to process. But as the weeks wore...
Self-doubt and endless questions. That seemed to be the theme of my pregnancy and motherhood journey. It all started after I got married to my amazing husband, Scott. We knew we wanted to start a family right away. What we didn’t know was how difficult that can sometimes be. When it was all said and done, we spent a year and a half trying to have a successful pregnancy. We thought you just decided you were ready to get pregnant and that’s all it would take. We were so naive. After a few months of trying with no success, I...
I was 34 years old when I lost my mom. She had ovarian cancer. She always said she would be fine. I believed her. When she went for chemo sessions, she told me there was a policy at the hospital that prevented me from going with her. I believed her. My mom went through hell fighting her cancer. She had multiple surgeries and multiple rounds of chemo that left her nauseous, vomiting, weak, and bald. After the first major surgery and rounds of chemo, she was told she was in remission. I think that lasted about a year. Then suddenly...
I am sentimental. When it comes to heirlooms, I’d rather have the rusty soup pot my grandma made a thousand meals in over expensive collectibles. I prefer items that have stories behind them. I want to hold on to memories, not things. To me, it’s the personal, unique items that become keepsakes. I lost my mom when I was a mere 31 years old. She was only 56. I have some of her jewelry and articles of clothing. I have many pictures in albums and a few videos on VHS tapes. But the items I treasure most are her Bible...
My mom would be turning 75 in a few weeks if it weren’t for the glioblastoma brain tumor. We lost her almost 14 years ago in 2007 when she was 61. It is really complicated and difficult to celebrate someone’s birth date when they are not alive anymore. Sometimes you don’t know whether to celebrate and honor them with a cake or celebration or let the day pass like any other day. Do I celebrate the milestone that would have been her 75th birthday? Or do I continue to celebrate her life in the daily rhythms of everyday life? RELATED:...