In a Matter Of Hours, It'll All Be Over...

...And they depart on the anniversary of my mom's death.

The question isn't, "Why this day?"  The question is, "Will You show me Your plan in the midst of this heart-wrenching weekend?"

...and the answer is a resounding, "YES, I Will."

Because He is faithful, I can trust Him.

One day shy of a month...

 

 When a van pulled up in front of the our home that day, I questioned if 'this was the funeral parlor people' and 'how were they going to fit mom?" 
Two women entered and gave their condolences.  As tenderly as they could, they wheeled her out of the house and down the walk. 
Then, in a flash, they were gone.

One day shy of a month later, my dad drove away with my brother-in-law to begin the next adventure of his life.  How grateful I am for the three and a half years we had together.

But they're both gone.  No more puzzles, early dinners, daily jokes, conversations, rushing home because they were alone.  No more: "Stop wrestling, you'll upset gramma", "shhh, grampa is napping".  "Take the darts to the family room".

Boundaries that kept me on track with meals, cleaning, caring for their daily needs...are gone.

Boundaries:  borders that kept our life in sync with theirs.  Gone.

Is there a button to push that will release the emotions that I should be having?  Since his leaving, there have been none to speak of.  Perhaps,  by His grace and His timing, He (or maybe it's me that) will slowly allow the valve to open and tears will flow and I will be able to wrap my head and heart around what is happening.  But do I really want to push that button?

Today was my fifty-first birthday. I did not want a celebration.  NO CAKE.  I didn't mind it when the boys surprised me with a plate of cookies topped with a tea light to celebrate my day.  It actually blew me away. And having all the singing birthday calls was soooo special, my husband making subs and cooking a pizza, our son, Josh and his family lavish me with cards and a gift card to Half Price Books was delightful...but I just did not want to make a big deal about today.  I really don't even want to go down the road of asking, "Why not?"  Just not ready to let the valve be opened. 

Maybe we'll celebrate next year. 

Life just isn't the same.

Life is good.
Don't get me wrong. 
I love my life.
I love my family.
I love how closely God is holding me in His arms. 
I feel His nearness, especially when I fall off to sleep.  Mostly when I awake and raise my arms to the ceiling and tell him I love Him and I blow Him a kiss.  This has become a habit I wish I'd have started a LONG TIME AGO. 
I know He is walking through this with me.\
Yet, when it comes down to it, I have to decide if I am willing to let myself grieve...and WHAT DOES GRIEVING REALLY LOOK LIKE AND WHEN WILL IT BE OVER?

I'm really not too concerned with the answers as much as I am with knowing Him more intimately, because, when it's all over, He'll still be there, holding me. 
He'll never let me go. 
Ever.
Of this I am certain.

So, if I ramble...just let me.
I may contradict myself. 
Just laugh.
I'll get through this.

Love overcomes all pain

He cries daily.  

How does one take his mind off the obvious hole that cannot be filled since rolling over and touching her cool skin, running to turn on the light to see if it really is true? 

He mourns not waking in the night to kiss her just one more time, not giving her more flowers, the harsh words he used that week, saying, 'she's such a baby.' 

My heart aches for him.

That Friday, I took him to Lowes and we bought dirt. 

Lots of it. 

Just the week before, I'd gone to my sister's and gotten a bunch of rocks to make a garden and now I knew why. 

With emotions raw, we placed the rocks in the shape of a heart. 

This was for mom. 

A memorial to her. 

Dad cut into each bag with his keys and I poured each in a heap and kneeling, leveled the soil so we could plant each specific one we bought that she would like.

I knelt, tears blinding me. He stood, crying, and repeated, "Oh she would love this.  Right, Kathy?" 

When it was finished, I stood and we held each other and wept.  He placed the pinwheels all around because she LOVED them and would daily comment, "look how fast that one is going."

We left room for plants from her funeral service.  I've since put in three more plants.

It is beautiful. 

Like their love. 

Lasting almost fifty two years, overcoming the lie that they would have been better apart because she was so stubborn and he, an angry man.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the photos he'd taken of her. 

Then he would weep. 

Watching him grieve is heart wrenching, but he must. 

His best friend, gone forever. 

Never to make her toast with jelly.

Bring her tea.

Talk to her. 

Tell her he loves her.

He carries that phone with him everywhere...not to talk to anyone. 

Just to see her face.

It took four days before he would sleep in their bed. 

This is how I found him...

Only Jesus knows the depth of his pain. 

I can't fathom losing my best friend of thirty years.

Life is a breath.

Live intentionally.