Moving on....

For those of you that have lost a loved one recently, or not so recently, you've heard the mantra -Well you need to move on.   Move where?  Afghanistan?  I know that I'm being kind of snippy, but I really find it difficult for people who have never experienced a loss to come up to you and say, "You seem to be doing well, you must have moved on."  Think of strangling them?  I do?

Now, I've been thinking about those words "move on" more lately.  My dad is working on getting our family home ready for sale.  He is getting to the age where he can't take care of it anymore, though right now he still does very well, he could one day be unable to.   This is the place I grew up.  I lived there from the time I was in 1st grade until I finally moved away in my 20s. My mom died in that house, in her own room, my grandparents lived there most of their lives.   I thought about buying it, but then I couldn't "move on", and then the words sort of made sense.    Sunday I was walking around taking pictures of landmarks.  The cement floor of my dad's workshop that had his name and the year it was built written in the ground, my mom's rose bush starting to bud.  It was so overwhelming, I felt as if I was losing my mom all over again.     But then I thought, no matter where I am I will carry those memories with me.   It hasn't made it any easier, mind you, but it may just get me through it.   Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, my dad has so much stuff of my mom's and his, it will take a good year or better just to get through everything.   I have to remember this will be best for my dad.   Of course, he is getting ancy about it too.   But right now, getting things in order is keeping him busy, so I will go with it.

I guess I won't obsess too much about this right now.  Dealing with two deaths so close together isn't what I need.  

Random Thursday Thoughts

I was driving down our town's main throroughfare today at lunch listening to our local Moody radio station.  Chuck Swindoll was preaching about have a relationship with Jesus.  As I was driving down the road he got to altar call and mentioned that we all will die one day and be a corpse.   Pretty graphic for old Chuck on a random Thursday afternoon.   But it was one of those moments that just brought me up sharp.   If you knew my Mother she was a larger than life person in many respects.  She touched so many people and affected so many people's lives.  She lived her life happily, despite her many health concerns, and was a huge part of my day to day existence.  Then she was just....gone.   Her body was a shell, her organs were finished and to be rather graphic, as Chuck was, she was a corpse.   The vivacious, loving person that I had known all my life was nothing more than a collection of skin and bones to be put in a box and be disposed of. 

Now I don't want to come across as gross or disrespectful, because I have a point here, and if you aren't a religious person, beware.  Heavy Christian content to follow!:::::

I, frankly, don't know how anyone gets through the death of a loved one who doesn't know Jesus or isn't sure that loved one did.   My Mom was not the person that is in the ground up at Gardens of Memory Cemetary in Huntington, IN.   The part that WAS my mom is with God.   My Dad asked me the other day he wished he could be sure of that.   My Dad is a relatively new Christian (compared to my Mother) and he has never really done much more than say the Sinners prayer.   Coming to Jesus as an older person is sometimes difficult.  You have the doubts of adult life to prey on you in times like this.   I told him that I was sure of it and if he truly believed that I was as smart of a person as he tells everyone that will listen he should believe its true.   He laughed, but seriously, it isn't up to my brain that my mom is with Jesus or my Dad's lack of true belief.   It's just a fact.  Has my Mother shown up to me in some sort of misty vision since her death telling me she is ok?  No.  Has she "visited" me in dreams, yes.   But if I don't hear her voice again until its my time to "cross over the river", I will have the faith that she will be there waiting for me on the other side.  

I urge anyone who doesn't know this for sure about anyone you know or yourself, please find someone who can tell you about the gospel.  You will be eternally glad you did.  Thus endeth the sermon for the day.

Fourth of July

Wow, been a while since I posted on here!  Lots going on in my life right now, but can't neglect this holiday going by without a mention.  Independence Day was a special day for my mom and me.  It wasn't the fireworks or anything like that, though they played a part.   When I was about 3 years old, my mom had Hodgekins Lymphoma.  In the 70s, this was pretty much a death sentence, and hers had spread to her bones.  She had been given 6 months to live not more than a week or so before the 4th of July that year.  My dad, who was working 60 hour weeks to pay for my mom's treatments, was working the evening of that July 4th in the glass factory in our home town.  The house we lived in, sat within walking distance to the plant and the park behind that, where they shot off the fireworks.  My mom was too frail to take me to the park and it was raining that evening anyway.   Despite the rain, they decided to shoot the fireworks.  So we sat, me on her lap, in the cab of my dad's old truck, the rain hitting the window, watching the fireworks shooting up over the black outline of Owens-Illinois glass factory.  I was entranced by the pretty lights, but I didn't know till years later that my mom was crying, holding back tears that streamed down her face, because she thought that was going to be the last July 4th that she would ever spend with me.  She didn't think she would see me grow up.

How wrong she was!  God had other plans for my mom.  Not only did she see me grow up, she saw me graduate high school, college and Graduate school, get married, have a career and many other milestones.  So each year the 4th came around, it was another year she got to spend with the little girl in the truck all those years ago.  

Though God did eventually take my mom home this past year, and many of the holidays this year have been a struggle, I want to make this one the celebration its intended to be. 

Because this year, my mom is really living more than she ever did.  I miss her, but that isn't what I plan to think of. 

That's enough reason for fireworks in itself!

Memorial Day Weekend

I know what this weekend is about.   Primarily, its about honoring our fallen dead who have sacrificed in our wars to keep us free.   But I know lots of warriors who never shot a gun.  One of them is my mom, who is buried at Gardens of Memory in Marion, In.   My husband works as a funeral planner at a local funeral home and memorial park.  Ironic, I suppose.  This is his busy weekend.  He has worked 12 hour days all week and will through Monday.  My dad and I spent the day together yesterday.  I planned to go, after church and a memorial service at my husband's cemetary, to go visit my mom's grave.   I've been up there twice this month already.  However, my dad, as is his wont lately, has another excuse not to go up there with me.  I know he finds it hard to go, and I went up on Mother's day with my husband.   But I plan not to push him. 

My mom would understand, I think.  Her grave is very tidy, decorated, as is my Grandparents grave.   So no need to spruce it up at this point.   I will see what the day brings.   After all, she admonished me, if my grave doesn't look nice I'll haunt you.   Well, mother, it looks just fine.

Have a nice day everyone.

Mother's Day

Yes, another milestone day.  I'm not as upset today as I was on my Mom's birthday, but it doesn't mean I'm bouncing off the walls either.  It's early and I am getting up, starting to get ready for church.  Mother's Day was always a special day for my Mom and me.  Not just because it was Mother's day, which could be enough, but because it always fell either the day before or on my birthday.   Last year, my last Mother's day with my mom, it fell on my Birthday.  We celebrated it in the confines of the Mayo clinic in Rochester, MN.  It fell over a weekend, and thankfully, there were no tests to be run on her during those two days.  While I was going through it, I felt that it was the worst birthday of my life, and that spending those two weeks in that hotel room with my mom and dad, wondering what was going to happen each day, watching my mom unable to hardly stand, go to the bathroom on her own, and choking on her food, was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced. 

Funny how a year gives you perspective.  I realize now that God put me there for a reason.   I had to take two weeks off work to go up there and almost didn't go.  I know now, that if I hadn't, several things would have happened.  My Dad might have had a heart attack from the stress of being there alone and caring for my mom.  But the main thing was that I would have lost two precious weeks of being alone with my parents for the last time.  Yes, there were sad and trying times and it was hard.   But there were fun times, sitting there watching silly Golden Girls episodes, making my mom laugh, watching my parents interact in loving ways, that were soon to pass. 

So, remember, that every moment is precious.  No matter how difficult it may seem, you need to work through it and give of yourself to those you love.  For you never know if its the very last time you will get that chance.   Did I dream that would be the last birthday, the last Mother's day, the last everything I would spend with my mom?  Even in her condition, no way.   But it was. 

I thank God for pushing me to do that, giving me the foresight to know what I had to do, and the strength to just do it.  Happy Mother's Day, Momma.  I hope today is good for you.