Sunday, March 15, 2015

20 Years

Oh, my blog. I've missed you. Well, parts of you I've missed. It's been over a year since I've written anything here...and there are a few reasons for that. But I am going to skip all that for now. But I will say this briefly: these thoughts are my own. What I choose to share or not share on here is just that: MY choice. So if you see something that ruffles your feathers, please locate the little "x" in the upper corner and close this. See? Simple. If you want to keep reading, read on! And I love ya either way.

So...20 years. Twenty years. Two decades. That's the shocking amount of time that has passed since I lost my mom. (As an aside, I very much dislike putting words to someone's death. "I lost her" is so's not as if I misplaced her. She "died" sounds so harsh. She "passed away" sounds creepy. She "left us" sounds like she chose it.) The real way I feel is that she was taken.

The truth is a brain tumor fought her for 23 years, from the time I was 3 years old. Lots and lots of good years in there, but a part of our life. She fought that ugly thing so hard. In some ways, the brain tumor took her.

The other truth is she was a passionate, joyful follower of Christ. She was a faithful, grace-filled woman who is no doubt enjoying herself immensely in heaven. She had her heart and mind stubbornly fixed on eternal things. She did NOT want to leave her family, that was her greatest heartache. But she was also peacefully confident that she would be healed, either here on earth or in heaven. I would have much preferred here, let's be honest. But her healing meant she left us. So in some ways, The Lord took her home. A victory for her, a brutality for me.

Twenty years ago...I had a round belly nestling a little baby I had not met. I wasn't a mom yet when she left. Three lucid days early in my pregnancy she knew I was having a baby, other than that we shared none of this. I wasn't then who I am now. My life was so very different 20 years ago.

She would have recently turned 76. I don't even know how to imagine that. In the same way, back then I could not have imagined myself at 45. Strange how time does that.

And I miss her. I miss having a mom. I've missed that since even before she died and her illness left her unable to be "mom". I miss having a mom to be proud of me. I miss having a "home" to go home to and be taken care of. I miss her being a part of my kids' lives and knowing them. Oh, how I miss that. I know she would love them so deeply. Through miraculous grace, my three are amazing people and she would love them. She would be so proud of them. I could tell story after story of how I see threads of her woven throughout my children. One of her strongest prayers as she battled that tumor was that she'd live long enough to impact her grandchildren. I promised her that she would influence them through me. I've tried to live up to that promise I made her.

Many milestone moments in my life when I've especially ached for her, I've imagined and hoped that perhaps there are windows in heaven. Perhaps at the moment my three babies entered this world, The Lord called her over to a window and let her witness the miracle. Perhaps when my youngest was clinging to life and many were so passionately praying for a miracle she was able to gaze out a window and witness that miracle. So many perhaps, but this is where my tears start to flow and make it difficult to type coherent words.

So much changed 20 years ago. Things in life can be unfair. And hard. And cruel.

Yet so much had changed in 20 years. Things in life are beautiful. And wonderful. And merciful.

On my 18th birthday, my mom gave me a card that was like a little book. It was called, "Did I Ever Tell You?". Each page is a "Did I tell you to smell the flowers" type of thought. The last 2 pages end with "And did I ever tell you ... I hope it's a wonderful life." Simply signed "I love you. Mom."

And mom? In case you get a window to peek out, it IS a wonderful life. Truly. I miss you more than my words can adequately describe, so just hear my heart. I wish beyond measure that you were a part of my life and my family's life. It's no fun not having a mom here. Even with all that wishing and missing, it's a wonderful life. I'm a blessed girl to have had you for 25 years.