Jesus, bless them, please.
Today Mom asked, as she always does, “Where’s Raymon?”
And I answered, as I often do, “He’s out getting you food.”
But then her answer surprised me. She smiled and looked pleased and said, “Well, bless his little heart.” I chuckled at the comment, but now I embrace it as a prayer…
As I was cleaning at their house today, I continued to overhear Mom ask, “Where’s Raymon?”…even though he was just a few feet away.
And I continued to overhear Dad patiently reply, “I’m right here.” Over. And. Over. Again.
And I had to think, bless his heart for his patience.
Later, Dad and I were in his office, and I was going through his mail with him and making appointments. Almost the whole time we could hear Mom hollering from the other room, where she sat…
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