Life is…

One of my roommates in college had a black mug that said “Life is a bitch. Then you die.” She thought it was awesome, and used it all the time. Back then, we really had no clue what a bitch life really could be.

My other roommate knew we were clueless. She spent the summer between sophomore and junior year taking care of her mother. Her mom had advanced cancer, and sadly she died that summer. It must have been very difficult to come back to school and deal with roommates like us after such an experience.

I was 23 when I had my first eye-opening experience. It was early on a Saturday morning when I got a phone call from my cousin. I was still in bed, sleeping in. Her husband had just tried to commit suicide by hanging himself from the banister with a belt while she was taking a bath. She had already called 911, but really needed someone to come. Her parents, normally close by, were on vacation. The 45-minute drive over to their place seemed to take forever. The whole weekend was a blur: seeing him in the emergency room, spending time in the hospital, supporting my cousin until her parents arrived….

The end of the story? My cousin tried to help her husband through many, many therapists, but eventually he didn’t want help and their marriage ended in divorce. She is happily married to someone else. I have no idea what happened to her ex.

As I was reading other blogs yesterday, Michele from It’s a dog’s life told us her daughter-in-law is going through a loss right now, and she is only 22. And so I started thinking of my own life….

Fortunately, there are also wonderful things to balance the tragedies. The good friendships, family, the many blessings of life.

Our family is in the middle of the grieving process. Last week we lost a mother and grandmother, and remembering the years we had with her is helping us heal. It makes Ed and me sad that Emmy is too little to remember her grandma, but we’ll fill in the details with pictures and stories. My mother-in-law didn’t want any pictures taken of her when she was so ill, but we managed to snap a couple without her knowledge! We really wanted a record of her with her granddaughters, so that as they get older, they will be able to see how much Grandma loved them. And that’s what life is. Love.

Today is a Difficult Day

My mother-in-law has a flaw. She thinks about others first.

About fifteen years ago, she lost her balance and fell. She broke two vertebrae in her neck. However, she didn’t want Ed’s dad to call Ed for a few days, since he had plans for the weekend. She didn’t want to cause a fuss, and make Ed cancel his plans. Ed was chaperoning a lock-in for the youth group at our church, and it would have been easy to find a replacement for him.

When I was planning my wedding, her granddaughter, my soon-to-be niece, was eight years old. She was going to be our flower girl; she had always wanted to be the flower girl in her uncle’s wedding. As all little girls do, she wanted to be sparkly. I didn’t want her to be sparkly. I picked out her dress, and it matched my wedding dress perfectly. Well, my niece didn’t like it. So we went from dress shop to dress shop, trying to find a dress that maybe she would like. My mother-in-law defended my choice, and insisted that my niece wear what I had chosen. She got to wear a sparkly dress for Christmas, instead.

I was very lucky to have my mother-in-law as my mother-in-law.

All week, it has been difficult to substitute past verbs for present verbs. “She has”…to “she had”, and so on. You see, today we are going to celebrate her life. We are going to remember the twinkle she always had in her eye, the dry wit she displayed even when she was in pain, the smile she always had for her grandchildren.

We love you, Grandma.

My song is love unknown
My Saviour’s love to me
Love to the loveless shown
That they might lovely be.
Oh, who am I that for my sake
My Lord should take frail flesh and die?

Here might I stay and sing–
No story so divine!
Never was love, dear King,
Never was grief like thine.
This is my friend, in whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend!

Text: Samuel Crossman, c. 1624-1683
Tune: John D. Edwards, 1806-1885