A Slice of Life

6:45 a.m. I wearily open my eyes as Lily pads to the side of my bed. I’m so tired…Lily and Emmy both climbed into bed with me at different times last night, and I took them potty and put them back to bed. Staying up late the night before to write a blog post didn’t help my weariness, and I turned over, not wanting to get up. Lily insisted.

She would have been 68 years old today.

7:30 a.m. Hair wet from my shower, I prepare breakfast for the girls. Shuffling bagel toasting, coffee drinking and lunch making, I manage not to think too much about today’s date.

Oh, how she would have loved to talk about Kindergarten with her oldest granddaughter, and about preschool with her youngest granddaughter! They were the light of her life.

9:30 a.m. Girls both at the correct schools and in the correct classrooms, I’m working this morning. My new job as a part-time preschool teacher keeps me occupied. I’m helping a little one put on a princess dress; roaring my stegosaurus at the T-Rex that is trying to devour it; helping to build a house out of blocks. I pour juice and sweep up homemade play dough. The morning passes by.

Emmy was only two when she died; Lily had just turned 5. If only she could see how they’ve grown!

12:30 p.m. I make fish sticks for Emmy, and think about Lily at full-day Kindergarten. I hope I packed enough food for Lily’s lunch today. She should have found my little love note in her lunch bag by now.

Last night, I brought out the letters she wrote to me when I was in college. Her handwriting, so familiar, brought her to life again for a little while.

1:30 p.m. Ed returns my call while my hands are covered with flour from the pork chops I’m going to stick in the crock pot. I’ll disinfect the phone later, I think, as I excitedly tell him that I received my first paycheck today, meager though it is. Emmy is demanding attention; she is exhausted from her morning at preschool, she misses Lily, and she just doesn’t know what to do with herself. I try to have her take a nap, but she wants nothing to do with sleeping.

She was such a good listener, such a good mother! What did she still have left to teach me?

7:00 p.m. The afternoon flew by, as laundry, dishes, and cooking dinner take up my minutes and my hours. As I rock Emmy, about to put her in her bed, I want to call her, to wish her a happy birthday. But there will be no answer.

My mom died from breast cancer on November 23, 2009. I miss her every day, and today, on her birthday, my heart just aches.

Christ is Risen!

He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

The banners above were made in praise to God by my mother. She truly spent all her days praising God. My mind is still trying to wrap itself around the fact that she has died.

As Easter begins tomorrow morning, my lips will be singing along with the choir,

I know that my Redeemer Lives!
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my everliving head!

but yet my heart may be saying,

“My God, my God,
why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1)

I’m reading Psalms tonight. David knows the anguish and despair I’m feeling. But yet he amazes me…the very next psalm, Psalm 23, is the most comforting psalm in the Bible.

Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Psalm 23:6)

How can this be? How can David be so distressed in one verse, and then so uplifted in the following verses?

Faith. He had a great faith…a faith that I seem to be lacking.

Some events in the past week have made me think about my mom. I’ve been looking back; remembering; caught up in the past.

This past week was also Holy Week, and so I’ve been preparing for Easter. I’ve been looking forward to celebrating Easter. I’ve been looking toward the Resurrection.

In this journey of grief, I mourn every day that takes me further away from my mother. Every day that passes takes me farther away from the time when my mother was alive.

But what if I look at this passage of time in a new way? Every day that passes is one day closer to when I will see my mother again. My human mind cannot comprehend this; Mom died; she is gone. But with faith, I know I will see her in heaven again.

And so I need to look forward. I need to look to the cross. I need to look forward to the day I will join my Savior in heaven.

Because I know that my Redeemer lives!

Easter blessings to you and your family,

<>