Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts

Saturday, September 07, 2024

Empty Shoes/One Month


At five in the morning, the house is always perfectly still. Yesterday, I was in the dark browsing my phone before beginning a busy day. Out of nowhere, it hit: the mental image of your house shoes, sitting empty. I pictured them as I had last seen them, in the hospital by your bed.

"All of her little shoes are now empty."

The thought sucked the breath out of me and grief thudded its crushing weight on my chest like a herd of elephants. My gosh, you're so very gone! 

I was so afraid your shoes had been left behind when you died, but they haven't. Big Sis has them. I asked her for this lovely photo and she graciously obliged. This image will replace the sadder one in my memory of the hospital the day we said goodbye. I am so grateful to you and  Dad for starting our family with such a quality person. I have found myself hanging onto her for dear life.

We went to the orchard today, my little family of four. You know the one: *our* orchard. The one you, Dad, Jim, Karen, Baby Sis, and I first went to one happy afternoon in 2001. On the ride down today, it struck me that only Baby Sis and I are left alive from our original group. That joyous afternoon blossomed into our annual pilgrimages to document the girls' growth in the chestnut trees.


I am heartsick that we have been without you for an entire month already. It is such a sad occasion to mark on such a special and precious day, but that is life, isn't it? It is death itself that makes the lives we have so incredibly dear. The memories we are making with our children were born in traditions started with you and Dad. How fleeting are these moments! 

So today I celebrate my children and the ways they have grown, inside and out even as today I grieve for you, for Dad, and for the years I feel somewhat cheated out of. 

Every thought, sad or happy, brings me back to the Savior and the overwhelming sense that He is good. 

Thank you, Lord, for giving me the parents I had. Thank you for the time we spent together creating the memories that will have to sustain us. I am so grateful that Dad and Mom are up there celebrating with joyful abandon in the most precious of places. Comfort us as we hold them here in our hearts. Help us to create and carry forward their legacy of loving and serving you. Answer the prayers spoken by lips that no longer utter, and also those we who remain speak over our own children. In your holy name, I pray. Amen.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Fears in the Night - Part 2

Today I ran across an old blog post from my previous blog that blogger will not let me back into. (Grr) It was long but I read through to the end. I do not just relate to it because it happened to me (of course). This journey with my dad suddenly declining into a disease which is fatal has brought up his immortality all over again in a much-too-real way. My thoughts on the matter have not changed. I will *always* need my daddy to pray with me in the middle of the night when I wake up afraid. 

---------------------------Fears in the Night - January 12, 2011---------------------

Fears in the night

Life is so tricky, isn't it? The way we experience rises and falls in circumstance. Tonight, in part due to a bad dream I had earlier in the week, finds me revisiting the events of last November, and where I am emotionally at this moment because of them. 

The bad dream I had was directly related to my dad's heart condition and the fact that he is most decidedly not immortal. I have never thought seriously that any of us live forever, but there is a veil of immortality that surrounds our parents, so long as we do not have to see them in weakened condition. When my dad first went into the hospital it was all about being in survival mode. Matter of fact dealing with it. However, the Monday morning he had the heart cath procedure done to determine blockage in his heart and kidneys (he has both but not high enough to require immediate surgery) that veil fell completely off of my eyes and I was truly afraid. 

It has been around six or seven weeks since then, and most of the time I do not even think about dad's heart condition, beyond the immediate concerns of taking his medication and how he is feeling/doing whenever we call. This week has been different, thanks to that bad dream. It was a short one, but it was my mom calling to tell us that dad had passed in a heart attack. She sounded better than I knew she was doing and said not to worry about dad being in pain because he was ready to go and went quickly. He had been standing one minute and simply fallen over, already in Heaven the next.

That was it. No long dream about what happens next, just that. It was enough, though, and thoroughly rattled me. I got up and called my parents, feeling a little leftover terrified from the dream and needing reassurance, but also feeling guilty. I did not want to tell them why I was calling; I especially did not want to tell my dad why I was calling. It seemed an awkward thing to open with, you know? Both of them answered, though, on speaker phone, as is their custom of late. I usually really enjoy that, b/c it is great to talk to both of them, but of course, it startled me a little bit that morning. 

I tried to sound casual and asked how they were doing, but of course being raised to be completely honest with my parents and to this day still unable (or unwilling?) to keep any part of my life from them, I did end up mentioning the dream. 

That is what has me writing this blog tonight. I was able, like so many times in the past, to call on my mom and dad for a bad dream and get reassurance. That is what brought me back to the night before his heart procedure... a night when I was unable to sleep, and when I began to cry over the events of the weekend leading up to that night because all of the times in my life when I was deeply upset in the middle of the night - upset enough to need someone to speak to me and pray with me (other than Chris) - I have always, always called my dad. That night while he lay sleeping in the hospital, prepared for anything up to and including meeting his Maker, I was awake in my bed and could not call my daddy to pray with me.

Tonight I spoke with my mom. She mentioned that dad now has a crease in his ear. I did not know what that meant, so she explained that they had checked his ears at the hospital because a crease can be a visible precursor to a heart attack or something like that. I looked it up online and learned that some recent study (after years of it being a thought but not fact) links the crease in the earlobe 'alarmingly' to the sudden death of the patients, regardless of age, obesity, or even being skinny.

I know in my rational mind that this does not mean my dad will be dropping dead tonight or tomorrow. He may not go to Heaven for weeks, months or even more likely, years. This fact does not change the realization (all over again) that as normal as life gets, as hard as I try to erase a dream, my daddy is not immortal. I cannot reconcile that and I will spend every minute after posting this blog not thinking about it, but there it is. For this moment in this day, I am grieving just a little. There will come another night in the future when I will need my dad to calm my fears and he will not be there. 

Who in your life is immortal? Who do you take for granted every day? Do you sometimes leave "I love you" unsaid, or spoken as a hurried goodbye? The Bible says that none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. So right now, right this minute or as soon after this as you are able, call that person. Call them or go to them and let them know what a valuable part of your life they are. 

If my hunch is correct, each of us will also be making that same call via prayer to our Heavenly Father. Because come the night when there is no one there to solace our hearts, He is the father who will always still be there. Fears in the night are real, whether you are a child or have the occasional one as an adult. The unchanging factor of comfort to calm those fears is Jesus Christ, our Heavenly Father. 

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Mommy Everywhere



I am a mommy in the kitchen, 'tis true;
A mommy in the living room, but you already knew. 
I'm a wife in the bedroom, but only at night.
I'm a mommy there too, giving laundry a fight.

I am a mommy in the backyard when they go play,
Mommy and teacher in our home classroom through the day.
I'm mommy in their bedroom, for cleaning or kiss goodnight,
And mommy when joyful play turns to tears and fight.

I am mommy oft through the day with toddler at breast.
When lights dim and eyelids droop I'm mommy on guard, not at rest.
I am mommy through potty training, tantrums, and "NO!"
I'm mommy at home or wherever we go.


I am mommy on the telephone; who cares if I'm on a call?
They need me to look, see, help, or for no reason at all.
I'm mommy for birthdays and holidays and every occasion.
Wish lists are built and fulfilled - every persuasion.

"Go to Mommy! Ask Mommy!" I so often hear them call.
Complaints and questions by the dozen - I answer them all.
"Mommy where is it? Mommy how do I?"
Mommy is aware of the hours and years flying by.


I'm mommy with no 'me' time, and that is alright.
When one fusses, whimpers, or falls I am mommy in flight.
To the rescue! Babies are stuck, hurting, or tired!
In mommy stuff up to my eyeballs I'm mired. 

I'm mommy at church seeing them off to their classes.
How I love and adore these two little lasses!
I'm mommy at the store. Don't ask for everything in sight!
I'm mommy at the park, and at the drive-in some nights. 


I am mommy when visiting family, or on vacation;
Mommy who needs sleep, caffeine, and probably medication!
I am mommy at Chuck E Cheese watching my child win prizes.
I'm mommy who is too soft, but to the occasion arises. 

I am mommy everywhere, from head to sole of shoe...
Alas I am also mommy on the toilet, too!
Why, just this day I was hugged and chatted up on the can.
"Making" and teaching mathematics was NOT in my plan!

At the end of the day I'm the tired mommy of a zoo.
I'm weary, and dirty, and sometimes smelly too. 
But I wouldn't change it, not even the messiest mess,
Because as a mommy I am most greatly blesed.    

;)  ;)  ;)