It’s sinking in.
I’m motherless. I’ve been here 71 years and she’s always been there with me.
We didn’t have that “best friend” relationship. Our roles were switched early in life to some extent. Being the oldest, when my mother started having back problems, I was the one who helped with the kids, meals, her, my dad.
My mother was so stubborn at times. She got on my last nerve frequently. In fact, she has frayed all her kids’ last nerves. Yet we wrap it up and go back try to take care of her. We never stopped loving her when she frustrated the life out of us.
Fear drove her from an early age and wrapped itself around her her whole life. She feared death. One of her greatest healings in heaven is from fear. I believe one of the first things she said once she got her wits about her after being escorted by her angels is “why was I so afraid?”
We’ve all been preparing emotionally for her and my dad’s death for ten years or more. At 93 and 94 and not in good health it was always riding on our shoulders.
And then it came. Mom is in heaven now. I had the opportunity to watch as my brothers loved on her. As my dad struggled to sit close to her. As our blessed caretaker Shereen loved on her. I watched her take her last breath. I watched the good-byes and the tears.
My tears were there but very controlled.
I am the oldest. I need to take care of everyone. I need to show strength and most of all I need to prove to those around me that I truly believe we will see her again if we have a relationship with Jesus. Especially my kids. I ONLY want to show confidence, trust and peace that heaven is real, that it’s a wonderful place and that we will all be together again. And I 1000% believe that. I have the peace and confidence. I personally have no doubt. In my brain breaking down shows doubt to others and I can’t allow doubt to be cast on to anyone.
All day Tuesday after she left us, the phone calls were fairly tearless. The meeting at the funeral home, tearless. Discussing family matters tearlessly minimal.
Then Wednesday as family members started to share on social media, and I would open it up my mom’s face would pop up unexpectedly. It was startling because the thought process was “oh, that’s right, she won’t be at the house anymore. Her chair will be empty.” The tears that were shoved way down in the bottom of my shoes started and began multiplying. As I was making pies for Thanksgiving, I recalled how mom taught me. Then I made her cinnamon roles and memories covered me like the brown sugar and cinnamon I was spreading on the dough. Tears sprinkled the flour on my countertop.
Then there’s the total desolation of my dad who spent over 72 years with her. And with his dementia, he understands when we tell him but then he forgets. So, we get to tell him over and over – for the first time in his mind – that his wife is gone. It takes whatever little heart us kids have to be part of this.
So, I do what I always do.
I write.
I share it.
I have no reason to believe this will be a blessing to anyone else. I pray that it is. I pray if you don’t have a relationship with Jesus, you find it. Message me, I will travel the walk with you.
