My mama

I'm not sure where I'm going with this post

so what you are reading is a likely heavily edited ramble. 

 

I am not mathy.

Oh, I get by, but please don't ask me to solve compound equations!

But I have a thing for dates

and the distances between significant dates.

It's not something I work at. 

I don't figure it out.

It just comes to me

and when I think "I think it's been..."

and check the math,

it's always accurate within a day or two.

So, I don't know how I know this,

but I checked the math

and today my mama has been gone

longer than she lived. 

Yesterday, it turns out,

she had been gone 

44 years, 4 months, and 14 days 

the same amount of time she lived.

 

I was 23 when she died

so she has been gone nearly half my life.

I suppose in a couple years,

that date will stand up and shout

"Look at me!"

just like this one did. 

 

I still miss her.

I still think about her.

I still talk about her.

I still love her. 

 

I've had several moms in my life whom I deeply love.

My dear mothers-in-law.

My mother's best friend/my "aunt".

Step-mothers, the first and the last I knew well and loved.

None of them erased my love for my mother.

 

Why can we not understand that the same principle applies

in widowed remarriage!?!

But I digress...

 

These women have all been important in forming the "me" of today,

but none more so than my mother.

My mom did a LOT of living in her short life.

A lot of it,

    dare I say, most of it,

        was harsh.

And yet, she persevered.

She overcame.

She accomplished.

She softened.

She grew.

 

The woman who died that day 44 years, 4 months, and 15 days ago,

was a very different woman than the one I grew up with

(a child-bride raising a child).

Don't get me wrong,

she was a good mom who loved all her children,

but like all of us, she had faults!

Like all of us moms (and dads), she made mistakes,

sometimes big, damaging ones

(I believe her extreme level of stress 

throughout most of her life

contributed to that),

but she did love us and was the very best mom she knew how to be. 

 

She had a wicked flash temper and a cruel tongue when she lost it.

This is something we had in common,

something both of us worked on our entire lives.

That temper and tongue gentled as she aged and 

gave herself over to Christ's ability to change her 

where she could not change herself.

We have that in common too.

 

She was fun-ny!!!!!

She was not good at practical jokes,

she was GREAT!!!

I did not get that ability!

 

She was SMART!!!

Literally a genius!

With the added benefit of having fairly good common sense,

something most geniuses lack.

 

She was wise.

I remember once, in my early marriage to my Al,

we had had a fight (see "I got my temper from my mom...")

and I had stomped off to mommy.

She listened to me rant.

She listened to me rave.

Then she asked me what part I had played in the argument.

I was quite taken aback.

What in the world???

But she made me tell the other side of the story

then told me to go home,

    apologize,

        and work it out.

Best advice she ever gave me!

 

Another time, when I was a teenager,

I got caught skipping school.

I didn't know I had been caught,

and I didn't know the school had called her.

She asked me how school was that day,

I told her fine. 

She let it play out and the next morning, 

I had my one and only visit with the principal of my entire school career.

That one day off cost me 30 days of cafeteria duty.

She never said a word,

but we both knew.....

I never skipped school again!

 

She taught by example.

Sometimes she taught how I SHOULD behave and act,

what I SHOULD say and do,

and sometimes she taught me how I should NOT behave and act,

what I should NOT say and do.

Both ways had consequences I learned

and so I began early in life trying to choose

which kind of consequence I wanted,

to weigh the possible outcome against my want to or instinct.

 

I made a lot of mistakes as a mom, as a wife,

some of them serious,

but my mama taught me that mistakes,

    while they cannot be undone,

        words cannot be unuttered, unheard,

mistakes are a part of our learning and improving experience,

both personally, 

    and for those we love.

I am a better mom, better wife, better woman today

because mom taught me in words and deed

that I could, 

    I should, 

        I MUST 

be on a constant path of self-improvement

and seeking God and His pleasure above my own!

 

My mom was extremely introverted,

another inheritance I received from her,

but she could stand up for herself and her children when necessary.

She taught me it was necessary most of the time

and not to let myself be squashed

and NEVER to let my children be squashed!

It took time and effort for her, and for me,

to learn the difference between doormat, shrew, and strength,

but we learned/are learning!!!  

 

My mom's life was HARD!!!

I mean it was HARD!!!

From the get-go, it was hard!

But she overcame and taught her children that they too

could overcome...anything,

including our childhood!!!

  

My precious mama considered herself a failure.

She only saw her imperfections.

Despite overcoming a childhood that had significant challanges;

    despite surviving an abusive marriage;

        despite getting four children to adulthood;

            despite working full-time while going to school full-time to become a nurse

            while raising four children and attempting to survive her marriage; 

                despite battling cancer, 

                including nearly nine years of chemotherapy, surgeries, and radiation 

                all while working full-time, raising four children, and in an impossible marriage, 

despite all that, she considered herself a failure.

She was not!!! 

In spite of the failures,

the successes, the love,

far outweighed any of the perceived or real failures! 

 

My mama's most ringing success though

was not in her survival or her gentling or her parenting successes,

it was in this one thing:

My mom loved Jesus and strove hard to be like Him!!!

When we couldn't see the striving or the progress,

she still strove.

She made sure we were in church every Sunday,

even when work and illness prevented her attendance,

she got us there!

She modeled to us what our church did not -

despite our imperfections,

    despite our failures, both shallow and deep,

 

God sees our hearts and the intentions within them!

 

She showed us God's mercy and grace as He bestowed it on her! 

I walk with Jesus today because,

despite it all,

my mama walked with Jesus back then!

Even in the dark and dirty times,

she ran after Him with all she had!

And He never failed to welcome her into His loving, forgiving arms! 

 

I miss my mama today!

Forty-four years later, the days that I don't think of her

and wish I could give her a call or run by her house are rare. 

Despite her imperfections,

she was a good and loving mama.

I look to the day when we will meet again,

whole, healed of all our imperfections, and in the presence of Jesus

who saved us both!!! 

 

My mom would not consider herself a Proverbs 31 woman.

And on the surface, one would agree,

but, upon deeper inspection, she surely was!!!

 

A Wife of Noble Character

¹⁰ Who can find a virtuous and capable wife?
    She is more precious than rubies.
¹¹ Her husband can trust her,
    and she will greatly enrich his life.
¹² She brings him good, not harm,
    all the days of her life.

¹³ She finds wool and flax
    and busily spins it.
¹⁴ She is like a merchant’s ship,
    bringing her food from afar.
¹⁵ She gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household
    and plan the day’s work for her servant girls.

¹⁶ She goes to inspect a field and buys it;
    with her earnings she plants a vineyard.
¹⁷ She is energetic and strong,
    a hard worker.
¹⁸ She makes sure her dealings are profitable;
    her lamp burns late into the night.

¹⁹ Her hands are busy spinning thread,
    her fingers twisting fiber.
²⁰ She extends a helping hand to the poor
    and opens her arms to the needy.
²¹ She has no fear of winter for her household,
    for everyone has warm^[c] clothes.

²² She makes her own bedspreads.
    She dresses in fine linen and purple gowns.
²³ Her husband is well known at the city gates,
    where he sits with the other civic leaders.
²⁴ She makes belted linen garments
    and sashes to sell to the merchants.

²⁵ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
    and she laughs without fear of the future.
²⁶ When she speaks, her words are wise,
    and she gives instructions with kindness.
²⁷ She carefully watches everything in her household
    and suffers nothing from laziness.

²⁸ Her children stand and bless her.
    Her husband praises her:
²⁹ “There are many virtuous and capable women in the world,
    but you surpass them all!”

³⁰ Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last;
    but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised.
³¹ Reward her for all she has done.
    Let her deeds publicly declare her praise.

~~ Proverbs 31:10-31 NLT ~~ 

 

 

 

 

The merry month of May...

Grief is a curious thing.

There seems no particular rhyme or reason

to its appearance at any given moment.

What makes it manifest itself and wreak havoc

on your emotions?

It is completely unpredictable.

 

It may predictably show up on special dates.

    Or it may not.

It may predictably show up for special events.

    Or it may not.

It more likely jumps at you from behind a completely ordinary moment.

 

And how it manifests itself is just as big a mystery.

Maybe it will make you cry.

    Or maybe not.

Maybe it will make you want to eat everything in sight.

    Or it might make you unable to swallow a bite.

 Maybe it will make you sleep a lot.

    Or maybe you will not be able to sleep at all.

You could have dreams.

    Or nightmares.

And it could manifest itself in completely unpredictable ways.

 

For example, earlier this week,

our daughter had a "blindside" grief moment

when her daughter, who really doesn't remember her papa,

flew a plane for the first time.

Her daddy should have been there

and our daughter caught herself 

looking around to see where he was.

The intensity of her grief was overwhelming.

 

For me, the month of May is filled with reminders of losses:

    my first mother-in-love died on May first - just over three months after my Al;

        my grandmother passed away on May 14th;

            my first father-in-love on May 16th;

                my son was still-born on May 17th.

And May 25th, the day my beloved was diagnosed with cancer,

    the 26th the day we knew it was terminal in the short term.

There are others, but these are the major days

where the sense of loss builds in intensity culminating in today.

 

And, for me, May means fear.

I am fearful my children will die.

    One of them is traveling out of the country right now...oy vay!

I am fearful my grandchildren will fall ill.

I am fearful my siblings will be diagnosed with a dread disease.

And, since my remarriage,

    I spend a lot of time listening to my husband's heart beat.

I become clingy and possessive, 

    not wanting him out of my sight for even a moment.

It's not much fun.

 

I spend a lot of time in prayer and in God's Word

    during the month of May,

        more than usual.

I beg and plead;

    I promise and bargain;

         and I do a lot of releasing and "not my will but Thine"-ing.

This year has been worse with my Lanny Love.

For no good reason,

    other than grief is, quite simply,

        its own creature with its own ways. 

Strangely, while I still feel the weight of that hard "D-day" in May

    thirteen years later,

        I did not feel sorrow this year.

I miss him, my Al!

I spent a while at the cemetery yesterday 

    where his only earthly presence 

        now lies in anticipation of the coming resurrection.

 But I did not feel sorrow as I sat with him,

    only gratitude for the days we had.

Still, it was a day when my emotions were close to the surface

    and I cried easily.

 

This year, my sorrow was for what has not yet happened.

This year, my sorrow was for the loss of people not yet gone.

I laid in bed next to my beloved Lanny last night

    and wept after he had fallen asleep,

        prayed for his continued good health, sharp mind, and Godly spirit,

and for my own trust in the God who controls all things.

 

This morning I was reading a passage of Scripture in I Samuel

    and was reminded again that, ultimately,

        God is in control! 

Nothing comes to us that has not first passed by Him!

And as I read 1 Thessalonians 4,

    as I often do on these days,

        I was reminded again that 

"...we do not grieve like people who have no hope..."

But we do grieve.

There is a hole left in our earthly lives when someone dies,

    that can never be filled this side of eternity.

That spot is simply empty for the rest of our days.

And it hurts,

    sometimes a whole-big-whopping-lot.

That same chapter in 1 Thessalonians also says

"God Himself has taught you to love one another."

Love is of God, commanded by Him,

    and it survives the grave! (Song of Songs 8)

And where love is present

    and the person is absent,

        there is a hole

            that fills with grief in that person's absence.

 

But it should NOT fill with fear!!!

That is my struggle this year in the merry month of May.

I'll be glad when May is done..........

 

 

 

Scars

My scars hurt today.

Grief is not something that ever disappears.

It is always there.

 

It isn't always painful,

the open gash heals,

a scar forms,

but the scar is always there,

always visible if you look at it.

Sometimes it is painless.

Sometimes it is an itch or an ache.

Sometimes it flat out hurts.

 

There are different kinds of grief,

but the in the end,

there is always a scar.

 

The month of May put a lot of scars on my heart.

Today is one of the two most painful May scars.

Today it hurts.

 

And that's okay.

 

 

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

~~ Psalm 34:18 ~~

 

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

~~  Matthew 4:4 ~~ 

Twelve

The day has come.

And nearly gone.

I have gone through twelve years.

Sometimes, I just survived.

Mostly I have lived.

As he wanted.

It has not always been easy.

It still isn't sometimes.

The last few weeks stand as a good example of sometimes.

But it has been worth the work,

    surviving grief

        and learning to live again.

In our last coherent conversation,

he gave me instructions for "after".

It is best summed up in this statement,

"I don't want you to die of grief!"

He opened doors for me to be happy again.

That's the kind of man he was!

I've thought about what to say on this twelfth anniversary.

Did I want to talk about the challenges of this January?

Did I want to talk about the healing that has happened over the years?

Did I simply want to talk about him and what kind of man he was?

I still am not sure what I want to say.

So I will just say that years bring about change,

    whether or not one has lost a spouse,

        whether or not one has remarried.

In twelve years, change simply happens,

    for everyone!

This year is no exception.

I have thought often the last few days about how I announced

that he had finally gone home.

I gave it a lot of thought ahead of time.

The words still stick with me today.

"The battle is over, 

the war has been won, 

the angels are rejoicing over another victor come home, 

and Al is kneeling at the feet of Jesus."

Al is kneeling at the feet of Jesus.

That says it all!

 

 

I don't want to remember...and I don't want to forget

I am less than a week from completing my twelfth year of widowhood.

This coming Tuesday, 4:59 pm,

I will cross into the thirteenth year.

 

This twelfth January has pretty much followed the pattern

of the previous eleven I think.

I think about "it" and him more, much, much more. 

    The "discipline" of putting it out of my mind is difficult to impossible.

        I don't sleep well.

            My dreams are strange and convoluted, 

                few are pleasant,

                    but few are actual nightmares.

                        Just mostly strange.

Pretty standard stuff for January these days.

 

Every year during the month of January,

I take a Facebook sabbatical.

I want to avoid the written out memories.

And every year, the closer I come to the 28th,

the more I want to look.

This year is a little different.

Oh, I still want to look.

And, to be honest, I have been.

But this year, I am reading my journal entries from that time in preparation for my book

    so all the events, 

        all the raw emotions, 

            all of the process of Walking Al Home are very present and real.

 

I tried, back then, to post little on my FB page about Al's cancer.

FB was my escape from cancer and I wanted to keep it that way,

so I mostly used CaringBridge to keep people updated

and to process my own thoughts, feelings, and experiences.

CaringBridge was my therapist then much as all of you are now.

I recall that decision more and more with every "peek" at the memories.

This may be my last January grief sabbatical.

As I am reading in my journal,

I am surprised at the number of times I say,

"I forgot about that!" or "I don't remember that!"

I find that I am both relieved and sad at the realization that

    time - and probably age to some degree - has done what time does.

        It has softened most of the memories -

            and completely erased a few.

 

I have not forgotten his suffering,

    but I have forgotten, no longer feel the intensity of it.

Seeing it written...

I have not forgotten my grief at what was coming,

    but I have forgotten, no longer feel the intensity of it.

Seeing it written...

I have not forgotten every single "event" of those days,

    every single heartache,

        every single kindness,

but I have forgotten some of them.

And, once again, I find myself in that strange state of longing -

    I long to forget...

        I long to remember every detail...

 

One of the things I have discovered in the reading of those entries,

and I am pleased,

is that I seem to have remembered most of the lessons

I promised myself I wouldn't forget.

That July of cancer, I wrote:

I find that I am enjoying simple things more these days. Lying in bed listening to my husband snore has become a pleasure not an irritation. Listening to him pray for me and our children when he wakes in the night rather than asking him to pray more quietly. Cutting his toenails. Picking up after him. Cooking for him. I wish I had sought this perspective BC [before cancer].

I have continued to enjoy simple things,

    have continued to find myself less irritated by small inconveniences 

        and signs of life,

            have continued to enjoy service to those I love,

                particularly to my Lanny Love,

                    rather than resenting it or finding it a burden.

As I read on, I read the following in an August entry:

Al and I were very young when we became "us" rather than "him" and "her". When I look back, it's hard to remember life before Al. As I think forward to a future without him, it is unfathomable. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that whether he is here on earth or in Heaven "getting things ready for me" as he says, he will always be part of me. Time and distance will not erase him from my memory, I will see him every day in our girls and grandchildren, I will see him in our home, I will see him in my dreams. I will always love him, always cherish the memories. He will always be a part of me!

"He will always be a part of me!"

This is a great and mighty truth!!!

 As this twelfth year comes to a close and I prepare to enter the thirteenth,

    this brings me comfort.

It allows me to be grateful for the effects of passing time,

    the softening of the feelings of grief and anguish associated with the memories,

        and even the forgetfulness that I have discovered is more prevalent than I realized. 

At the same time, I am grateful that

    it also allows me to live in the new life that was born that dark January.

For while I have forgotten some of the specifics of those days,

    while the intensity of the emotions has softened,

        while I no longer remember some of the more distant names and faces,

            I have not forgotten him!

 

                I have not forgotten him............ 

 

 

 

It's time...

God said several years ago,

"Do this which I ask of you."

I've looked at it.

I've printed the original.

I've begun re-typing it -

            several times...

I've written several versions of the forward.

I've even worked with an interested publisher's editor.

But I haven't done it.

I still feel the spiritual urging to do it. 

I no longer have an interested publisher or editor.

I have several files associated with it.

But it's just been too hard.

 

I cry when I try.

But it's time.

So this month, I am reading it,

my journal entries from that time.

I will shed tears, undoubtedly.

But I will clean that wound, expose it to the air,

and I will begin writing that book

from those entries

of Al's and my journey through cancer and grief.

 

Why today?

Because today is the day that was his first full day

as an in-patient in the hospice facility.

Following a scary and dangerous-to-me night,

our girls and hospice nurse convinced me

that moving him was no longer an option,

it was a necessity for both his sake and mine.

And so the night before,

            at about 7PM,

he left, for the last time, the house where I took him to die

and the transport vehicle took him to the place where he would die

            sixteen days later.

Avoiding the "memories"

hasn't made me forget that -

or any of it.

Why today?

Because I have, in the past,

against my editors wishes and instructions,

given copies of the raw book, still in journal form,

to recently widowed friends who were helped by it.

 

Because my cousin was recently widowed and is struggling -

and the book God has directed me to write isn't there for him.

 

Because another cousin is facing widowhood very soon,

and it isn't there for him.

 

Because it wasn't there for my dearest female friend

when her husband died not quite two years ago.

 

Why today?

Because I am struggling in this 12th January

and think back to that first one

and wish I had realized I wasn't alone

in my thoughts and feelings.

 

Why today?

Because I have been reminded this month

that writing is, for me, a healing balm.

 

Why today?

Because God said so. 

Firmly.

I dreamed of Madison

I never met Madison.

She died several years before I entered her arena,

long before I ever heard her name.

I have met her mother and one sister,

and perhaps the rest of the family as well,

though I don't recall it,

but I never came to know them well.

I am Facebook friends with her sister and father,

but I'm not sure that should we pass in the mall

they would recognize me nor I them.

Yet, early this morning,

I vividly dreamed of Madison.

During his illness,

one of the things that most bothered my Al

was that our then three-year-old granddaughter

would probably not really remember him.

Nearly 12 years later, I now know, despite insisting otherwise,

he was not wrong.

And now it bothers me.

Another thing that bothers me these days

is the knowledge that our great-grandsons 

will never meet him this side of Heaven.

 

It also bothers me that Lanny's Judy will never meet her grandchildren.

 

All three of these things bother me a LOT recently.

 

I suppose it's the time of year

coupled with the fact that our great-grands are so fun 

toddling 

    and crawling 

        and learning to talk 

             and stacking blocks 

                and.... 

 

And the fact that as a grandmother,

I know what pleasure my grandchildren bring me

and as a parent, I know how sad it made me that 

my mother did not see my children grow up,

that the one who met her has no actual memories of her

coupled with the fact that it bothers my Lanny Love and bonus children

causes me angst.

But early this morning,

I dreamed vividly of Madison

    whom I never met.

We conversed about things she would have been interested in.

    We did things that she would have enjoyed doing.

        We laughed a lot!

            We talked about my new, very short, curly haircut

            and how similar it is to hers

            but not nearly as cute on me.

The dream was extremely vivid.

And, I think, pretty accurate to Madison's personality.

Madison, whom I never met,

yet know because of the vivid, loving posts

of her sister and father.

I do not remember Madison,

but I know her.

 

Thanks for the clarity, young friend! 

 

 

An interesting aside.

After I had mostly completed this post,

I discovered that today is the 13th anniversary

of the end of Madison's earthly life.

I suppose somewhere in the back of my mind,

I probably knew this,

but it was way in the back of my mind.

I love God's timing and use of His children,

even after they have left this world.

 

Stalling

I am stalling right now.

I am a SAD sufferer.

Even before my
Al's death,

January through March were difficult for me.

Shorter days and the resulting lack of sunshine

negatively affects me.

Over the years, I have learned coping tools

like increased vitamin D,

    increased time in God's Word,

        increased exercise (this one is the most likely to be pushed to the side),

            and surrounding myself with people and things that bring me pleasure.

For example, I have carried on my mother's tradition

of early setup and late break down of Christmas decor.

The sparkle and twinkle and magic makes me smile.

So they always go up on or before Thanksgiving weekend

and never come down until after Epiphany (January 6).

So last week on January 7,

we unplugged the outside lights and the inside window lights,

and I dismantled and took down the living room tree 

that stands in the front window and is visible from the street.

I switched out the Christmas dishes for the regular dishes.

And that's where I stopped.

For the last several days,

my to-do list has included taking down some piece of Christmas decor.

I have a LOT of Christmas decor

including eight indoor trees.)

So far, I've been doing an excellent job of stalling.

So thank you for being a part of my procrastination -

and just another few moments of magical smiles.