If Only. . .

If I want to write, I have to write. . .even if it means I have nothing to write about. With the ending of 2022, it would appear I have much to write, but just as I felt I was experiencing life in a fog like vapor, the night she passed away, the fog hasn't lifted. . .yet. I am however plotting my course, digging into the tools that provide me with the roadmap to dissect my grief, deal with it, and move through it, albeit slowly. The bible, my gratitude journal, therapy-these are the tools I tuck away in my tool box that I carry with me around the clock now. These tools are my safety net in a world that feels anything but.

Going back to that night, October 1st isn't something I am ready to do. My hands start to shake, my heart races, the dread of that night returns with just a thought. A single flicker is all it takes to take me backwards, and I am determined to heal whole. My husband and kids deserve the best parts of me, not a shell of the person I was before mom died. Looking back, I was already moved out of the house when my mom's mom died. Her struggle with cancer was swift. My grandma knew what she was saying yes to when she refused treatment and six weeks later, December 27th she went home to heaven. Even the night before she died, my memories of my mom losing her mom were stoic. She did all the things a loving caregiver would do. They had said all that needed to be said. There was a very evident peace between them. I remember so clearly crawling on to my grandma's bed reading aloud from, Love You Forever,  by Robert Munsch. I choked through the ending bringing both my mom and I to tears. It was a moment I will treasure forever. Three generations on one bed, together one last time. I always envisioned having the long good bye with my Mom. I was so very, very wrong.

My mom is one of the strongest women I have ever known, especially in the area of caregiving. She cared for both her parents and father in law up until their deaths. The emotional and physical toll that would have on her body was not evident at first. There were many times  in her life that I would watch her and think to myself, "I could never. . ." I actually feared her getting older because of the responsibilities that might one day come. She would joke back, "That's why we have long term health care," and that crutch made me feel a little bit better.  I have always known what a gift her level of care was, but now I see how she willingly sacrificed pieces of herself to care for each of our loved ones. 

As much as I envisioned the long good bye, maybe it simply wasn't long enough because in some ways I guess I had it. I just didn't realize that is what it was. Shortly after losing her dad in 2004, my Mom was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer. I was pregnant with my second child at twenty-nine years old. I remember clearly calling out to the Lord to save my Mom, to heal her, and give us all the gift of more time. At barely fifty-one years old, having cared for and losing both her parents, working in the dark environment of a prison, and a marriage that was struggling, I wanted her to experience joy and the fullness of life that I thought she deserved. Selfishly, I needed her here. My kids needed to know her love as their grandma because there would be nothing else like it. She went on to survive cancer, but the journey was an arduous one, and the fear of its return was always tucked away in the back of her mind. She never wanted to endure a cancer journey again. This we did talk about from time to time. We received seventeen extra years: years that would bring about the things of life: Love, saddness, divorce, change, and lastly growth.

If only I had known that day would be her last.

If only I had asked all the questions.

If only I had fully appreciated who she was in life.

If only I could hear that laugh and see her smile again.

If only. . .

If only. . .

If only. . .

Around Here

Time stops for no one--not even a mom who is savoring days and instead of chasing littles, carpooling bigger littles across town daily.  Even with each child in only one activity, the demands for our time are endless.  That fact alone makes me cherish each night's dinner around the table and read alouds before bed.  They are still here.  Still ours.  Still their safe place to land and launch.  That thought makes me happy.

Our days haven't been particularly hectic, so that is not an excuse to have been absent from this place, but there is really no reason except maybe I'm listening more, speaking less (in real life and blog life).  Quiet equates contentment for me. And being still means I'm savoring God's voice and His call to action or obedience.

Moving on, some of the most recent happenings around here. . .

Mom celebrated another birthday! I believe it was about 11 years ago, I seriously wondered how many more birthdays she would have to celebrate.  Praise God for His healing hands and for more time with her. My mom is the only grandma my kids really know and she's the best mom for me!

 Oh, I just adore my girls.  Any time we can snuggle and all parties are willing, I take it.  I am in awe of who they are growing up to be.  In awe!

 This guy got asked to be this little girl's Godfather.  He is quite smitten with her, as we all are really.  He is the best example of a man I know, so the choice is a good one.  A really good one.

 My little looks so big next to her baby cousin.  13 is creeping up on us and I'm preparing my heart for the teenage years.

 We were missing Little and Kendra--but happy to celebrate Easter at mom and dad's with the family.

We had an adult beverage hunt this year and I think I may have more pictures of that than the kids hunting eggs.  That's okay though! More memories to follow--when I don't have to take a hot lunch across the street to my Bubs--who will be at middle school next year.  I will not complain--I'll embrace I can, while I still have the chance.

Christmas Continued

 Christmas at grandma and grandpa's was for the most part, just us.  Celebrating the holidays with only my brothers and their families means so much to me.  It's so nice to have the cousins together, running wild (in pajamas this year), tamales for dinner, and a mint and chip pie for dessert.  An Uncle and Aunt came by for a little bit, but for the most part, it was hours upon hours of us celebrating Christ's birth together.  As usual, Grandma went overboard with the presents.  I know she finds joy in giving, but so much stuff just messes with my senses.  I automatically get a little anxiety wondering where everything will go. . .or worse yet, knowing the next couple days will be spent purging unnecessary and outgrown goods.

We celebrated a newly engaged brother with a toast.  I am so happy to see him happy.  It has been quite a year, but as usual, God's plans are so much greater than our own. I might not realize the greater joy in this celebration, had there not been so much distance and quiet to work things out on their own.  

 We had some cool hats to wear for good measure.

We watched the kids open gifts, and then we savored the slower opening of our own.  My mason jars and trays were my favorite gifts by far!
We laughed around the table with a fun game called, Pie Face.

It was definitely a crowd favorite!  But most of the time was just watching kids interact, and conversations among siblings and spouses.  It was easy and quiet, really.  Papa's presence was missed, but felt, I think.  At least it was for me. . .and at the end of the day, all that remained was the newest cousin, our baby niece, Monroe Marie. . .and I could only thank God for the peace she had brought to this gathering on so many levels. Christmas 2015 was in the books, but in many ways it felt like an invitation to live a bigger, simpler life.  How, you ask?  I'm praying over how I might be able to show you.  Peace.

Gone

It should come as no surprise when people pass away.  I know it's all part of the circle of life.  I know God has a plan for each of us that includes our being born and our dying.  How we live in the meantime is just a part of our journey.  For those of us who believe, we know where we are going to end up and that is comforting if not exciting at the same time.  Heaven is a place we have only read about in the bible and imagined in our dreams.  It is our final destination after what we hope is a long life lived well.

Today I heard that a secretary I had used to work with passed away.  I haven't been on that particular campus in close to six years.  There's something about me and visiting my former schools. . .I don't tend to do so.  I think in the six years I had been gone, I took my dad a Starbucks once, causing me to walk the familiar campus with many unfamiliar faces.  And I visited when my daughter performed with the drama department, but that was generally after hours and on a drop off or drop in to the theater basis only.  I just wasn't one to visit and reflect on what I had left.  It was always good while I was there, until it wasn't and then I moved on.

But today when I tucked my oldest in and we prayed for Ofie's family, I could see her clearly sitting at her desk.  She was always so darn stylish and put together; cute hair, and great laugh and smile.  I loved passing through her office area when going to the guidance office. She always asked me about my kids. Always. She saw me through my first two pregnancies and she always asked about my babies.  Even when they weren't really babies, she called them that.  And she always listened and believed in my dream of wanting to be home with them.  Always.  She  encouraged me.  She smiled.  She laughed.  She asked about who was most important in my life and when we talked, she made me feel like they were that important to her too.  Oh, how she wanted to be a grandma!  She was so excited when her daughter was getting married because that meant she was one step closer to those grandbabies. . .and I'm not sure if that ever became a reality.  I sure hope so because that woman had so much love to give.  It makes me sad that she is no longer here.

I ache for her sister, who I randomly met a few years back through a mutual friend.  I knew they were sisters before I really even knew.  I could just tell.  They both had that look, that spark, that laugh.  Her family will not be the same without her, but I know where she is now.  She believed.  She loved God greatly and she lived a life that I'm happy I was able to be a part of for a little while.  And I just wanted to write down in my little book of memories and life lessons for my babies that Ofie was one of my original cheerleaders at the high school who encouraged me to be with you.  She supported me working if that's what I needed to do and she supported me at home if that's what we decided we could afford to do.  She would look at your little faces and say she saw so much of your dad. . .and she would laugh and smile and talk about how much she wanted to be a grandma. That's the Ofie I will always remember and I'll always be grateful to have known her for the time I did.  If only she could see you now. . .oh wait, she can: )  Heaven gained another angel today.