December 2009 – Page 2 – Lemon Drop Pie

It’s hard to believe that right before this picture was taken, these two little angelic girls were sticking out their tongues!

It’s hard to believe that Emmy entered the “terrible two’s” in July! Emmy loves taking on her big sister, and insists that she is big, too. She rivals Lily in talking up a storm. She loves playing with her “babies,” and also loves dogs…from a distance. She finally realizes that watercolors are used to paint pictures…not for a snack!

It’s hard to believe that Lily is now five years old! She attends Grace Preschool five mornings a week. On nice days she can be seen on her hot pink scooter, helmet and kneepads in place, zooming down the sidewalk! During these colder days, she is often found in the dining room, drawing pictures and using all the scotch tape she can get her hands on.

It’s hard to believe that we will not again hear Grandma Virginia’s dry wit. Yet I see the dimple from her smile on the faces of my husband and little girls.

It’s hard to believe that we will not again see Grandma Loreeta rock and sing another baby to sleep. Yet I sing the same lullabies to my two babies.

It’s hard to believe that God would send His Son to die for us, so that we will see Virginia and Loreeta in heaven again!

But it’s true!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from Ed, Ginny, Lily and Emmy

Christmas is going to be rough this year. With the loss of my mother on November 23, I have good days and bad days. Emmy might have said it best when she told me this morning, “Daddy is happy and Mommy is sad.” I certainly don’t think I’m sad all the time, but Emmy has seen me crying a lot, and that’s the first thing I’ve done to cope with grief:

1. Cry it out! When I hear a carol on the radio that reminds me of Mom, I let the tears roll. I’ve never been one to hold back tears, and now’s not the time to keep them in. Whether it’s a sobbing, wailing, tear-filled session which happened when I read Mom’s last emails to me, or just a couple of teardrops sliding down my cheek while singing “Away in the Manger” to the girls, I let tears flow.

2. Doing what I can. I bought Christmas candy for my Sunday school students, a birthday gift for Lily’s friend, and contributed to Lily’s preschool teachers’ gifts. My Christmas cards, however, are going to be late. I didn’t bring treats to Lily’s preschool Christmas party, or give her classmates a goody bag. I didn’t set out to intentionally do these things; in fact, I was still deluding myself the night before the party that I could run out to the store in the morning. It just didn’t happen.

3. No guilt! And so, I’m not going to feel guilty.The Christmas cards will be mailed soon. Lily’s class had plenty of cookies and candy that the parents had bought for the party, and I was not the only parent who hadn’t brought goody bags for the kids.

4. I’m not obsessing. Did you notice? My last three posts were not about grief!

5. Giving myself permission to not feel sad. I saw a Hallmark commercial last night, and it showed a grandmother receiving a card from her daughter. It was just corny enough that I didn’t want to cry, or let myself think about spending Christmas without Mom. I decided I couldn’t be sad every time someone’s mom was mentioned.

6. Letting my faith give me comfort. This is a little slow in coming. When I think about my faith, and that I believe Mom is in heaven, it doesn’t comfort me. I want her here, with me. I’m not ready for heaven to have her yet. But it’s beyond my control, and I’m struggling with the fact that Mom is truly gone. What comforts me more is knowing that in the long run, my faith will get me through this difficult time, somehow.