Time Tells The Backstory

Today was not a spectacular day, being Labor Day and all. However, I did get to go for a walk on my favorite trail with a friend. It felt SO glorious to walk so far that my body ached. I am very horribly out of shape. I am also in dire need of time spent with friends. Actually, I am more in dire need of a vacation. That one looks nearly impossible, so the next best thing is the time spent with friends. My friends know me best.

Dad is sad. Mom has been away to heaven since the 12th of August. Even though she spent so much time in her bedroom either sick or simply not feeling well enough to be up and about, Dad misses her being in the house. I only have my own I'm ~ the ~ not~ favorite~ daughter feelings of my mom not being around. I'm thrilled that she's with Jesus, whole, happier than imaginable and no longer tied down to the pain of a cancer riddled body. I do miss her. I can no longer hug her or hold her. Her clothes with her scent still hang in her closet but she is not there. Tears have welled up in my eye sockets and spilled down onto my chest when I have stood in that closet....needing her to just appear and hold me. Later, when I am distracted by my now a bit more normal life, I am so glad that  I no longer have to see her in "that state"...no longer have to wonder how much longer, no longer need to be concerned about sister and her ability to tend to mom. I offered to spend the night there to give her and visiting sister and voraciously helpful friend a break but was told "no, no, she( friend) said she was here to do this so we could have a break". Okay, fine...I needed to be in the peace of my home anyway with hubby who was dealing with his own issues. I'm so thankful that all of that is over, the service is over. Now it's just us again; nobody from out-of-town is around to liven things up and keep dad distracted. He may have wanted the peace and quiet after a while, but now it might be too quiet. Too lonely. I cannot be at their house every day or even every other day. I cannot be the savior. The siblings who are much more loved than me live 2 hours away and they are tied to a job and a Childcare commitment.  This is definitely not a happy situation that we're in and I'm hoping that God will have mercy on us and help dad through it.

Swirling Thoughts

Going through mom's worldly posessions is an interesting adventure. I don't like some of it. Like the tray of perfume bottles. Some of the perfumes are OLD and they stink. But of course, that's personal preference. She does have a scent that I like; it's a newer one. Some of the bottles are pretty and there is one, Shalimar, that dad bought her once upon a romantic time. I may keep that one to remember. Remember. Remember. Memories from childhood are not clear to me, and some of the few I remember are not enjoyable ones to dig back up. The bottle that is nearly empty of Shalimar will be a nice one, I suppose. And, thankfully, our recent time spent together has been a blessing; full of love and appreciation. I told her in a coherent moment the other day, that these moments more than make up for the difficulties of the past. She wasn't a kind and loving mother to me, but now she has been ~ since she's finally gotten to KNOW me after all these years.

We held each other and cried. I have wiped many tears from her precious, steely blue eyes that used to scare me to death. Now, I sit and gaze at her, willing her to be awake so I can see her eyes. I feel like I know her eyes better than ever...all the expression in the one good one, and the blank blindness in the other one that was destroyed in a careless surgery. She can no longer wipe the tears from mine as she is weaker and slips into deeper morphine sleep.

Oh, dear Jesus, my head hurts as the remembering, the memories, the precious times with mom, her sickness brings so much emotion and heartache and tears.

We are precious in your sight. You said so. And I believe you. Take all of our tears and replenish the ocean with them, because that's where mom wants her ashes to be scattered.

YOU Are Precious

So, my dear Jesus, You were there when Jamie looked at me, direct eye contact, and said "YOU are precious!" Immediately, I replied, "YOU are!" She split-second responded with "No, YOU are!". Then we laughed and morphed into little girls saying, "No, YOU are", "No, YOU are"...!!!  She had no idea how much that fun and sincere comment arranged my whole day like a pretty salad. The kind that's too pretty to eat. I wish every day could be like that one.

No doubt, there will be more pretty salad, wonderful friend days and there'll be more of the days where I want to run away. I'm such a wimp; wanting to run away, just because I can't handle a little dose of tough life. Yet, the fact that I'm still here says something positive, right? 

Thank YOU, dear Jesus for the things you showed me today; your love is constant, you let me know you are present, you surprised me with a weed in the backyard that I thought I'd have to go to Watson Woods to capture! Do you think it's funny that I am excited about that weed? Thank you for birds whose chirping causes me to strain my neck, trying to find them in the trees and for the teeny cat hair nest I found.  You know I'm aggravated by the fact that SOMEthing ate those plants I JUST put in the garden on Sunday evening. Were you smiling when you watched how those plants disappeared?

Mom is hurting. You know what's in her body, causing pain and the whole mess. Do I dare put my feelings on here? Why has she suffered for almost her entire life? I only ever wanted a healthy, vibrant, healthy, HAPPY mother. You have given me HER and through her life, you are stripping me. 


I was Pipsqueak. You say I am precious.