Respecting life from conception to natural death begins with our own families. Being pro-life means that you understand that planned or unplanned, a baby is a baby. I was adopted when I was three days old, really at birth, but my parents couldn't come and take me home until I was three days old. I grew up knowing that I was adopted and my parents explained how much I was loved and I have always been very thankful for my life. I'm a joyful, glass is half-full type of gal! I love to laugh and sing and am definitely a people person! Now, getting back to the reason for this story. When my husband and I got married I was expecting our first child. Abortion had been legal for ten years. Having an abortion never even entered my mind. I was and am very blessed to have a wonderful husband. We immediately picked a date and planned a small wedding. Fast forward to a couple of decades later. Our adult children are very supportive of my pro-life work. In 2006 we were blessed with three precious grandchildren, two of them were unplanned. That summer all three of our children and grandchildren were at our home. I took a picture of the three grandbabies together. Years later, after I became involved in the pro-life mission I thought about that picture and so many more pictures with all ten of our grandchildren. They are all such gifts! We are so blessed! We are thankful for each and every one of our ten grandchildren. One time someone asked me why I fought so hard, why I cared so much. I started thinking about all the statistics I know and then I said, "Let me tell you a story." This woman knows my children and my grandchildren. After I finished my story I asked her which two of my grandchildren shouldn't be here? Could she pick out the ones that weren't planned? She began to cry and squeezed my hand as tears streamed down my cheeks also. I've learned through the years that sometimes you have to tell your own life story for people to understand why you do what you do. I've actually had people who don't know me say, "You're pro-life until it happens to you or to your kids!" And my reply has always been, "Do you have a minute? Let me tell you a story."
Respecting life until natural death - I've spoken to some RCIA classes about my pro-life work. I shared the following story two years ago. Blog Post January 19, 2019
On Thursday, January 10th, I was blessed to share my pro-life message with the
RCIA Class at Sacred Heart. The core part of my message was that we need to
respect life from conception through natural death. I get pretty animated when I speak.
I walk back and forth and my hands are this way and that way - sometimes I make
people laugh (especially when I share my, "You might be Catholic if" stories) and
sometimes the truth of what I say will bring tears to your eyes (and mine too). I talk
about my adoption story and how thankful I am for my life. I share pictures of my
children and grandchildren because I want people to understand that adoption saves
generations. The grim reality on the other hand is that abortion ends generations.
I shared a story about my father this time - it's the first time I've spoken about it
publicly. The story is about respecting life until natural death.
I have to tell you this - when I sat down today I really wasn't sure what I was going to
write about and I'm constantly amazed at the words, the memories that God places
on my heart. So...let me tell you a story:
If you've read the stories from my blog you know that my mother died when I was twelve.
My dad was the sweetest man and he took such good care of my mom, she had cancer
and was sick for a long time. When I moved away from home, got married and was
blessed with a family of my own, my dad would come and visit.
He would go and visit my brother and his family and then come and stay with us.
I have so many memories of him being with us. He would sit at the bar in the kitchen
and chop onions and peel potatoes for me when I was cooking. He liked to watch TV and
in the fall he would shell pecans for me as he watched the football games. He would run
errands with me and we had the best visits - always talking! My dad developed
Alzheimer's in his later years. He had stopped calling me by name about three years
before he died. He recognized me but whether he realized I was his daughter or not I
don't know. I cherished our visits. He lived in a nursing home for the last year and a half
of his life. I would go and see him and put an old movie on - we loved watching
John Wayne Westerns and old war movies. Our favorite John Wayne movie was,
"McClintock." Jim would always buy candy bars before he would stop in to see dad.
He loved seeing his great grandchildren, his eyes would light up.
My brother and his wife would come and visit and he was always so happy to see
everyone. I don't know who dad remembered or if he remembered that we were his
children or not. The point I stressed was that whether my dad remembered who I was or not,
I knew who he was - he was my sweet dad and I will always be thankful for the time I spent with him.
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