Joy in the Simple Things...and my Birthday

Well, I'm a year older today.

Hopefully I'm also a bit wiser, too! I mean, what's the sense in the passage of time if I didn't learn and grow along the way?

I miss my Momma something fierce. Something about the combination of my birthday and Christmas...makes this time of year not as fun as it once was. I've shed more than a few tears.

I'm learning that there is joy in the simple things of the season. The excitement of our boys, planning Christmas surprises with the Hubs, singing with my Dad, a phone call to out-of-state relatives and sweet messages in cards.

Those simple things have brought me the most joy when enjoying the season seemed impossible.

The perfect gift, no fancy wrapping required!

Not just another Monday...

September 20th.

Not just another day for our family.

Today would have been my Momma's birthday.

So, if your mom is still living....

Give her a hug,

tell her how much she means to you,

or even send her a card.

Something.

'Cause I may not have been able to say good-bye to my Momma,

but I did get to tell her I loved her and that she was a blessing to me.

That, m'dears, is a precious, precious thing.

Odd moments

It sneaks up on me, that crafty and relentless thing called grief.



Yes, it comes out to prey on me in those obvious moments when Mom is at the forefront of my mind - when I want to tell her about the boys, when we drive by the cemetery, when I have flashbacks to what it was like for her that last time in the hospital....



Yet it is all too ready to take advantage of those odd moments when I'm unprepared and defenseless against the fresh onslaught of horror that overwhelms me when I remember that Mom is gone. It delights in reminding me that even though I know without a doubt she's in a place of no pain, I would gladly take one more chance to tell her that I love her.



Odd moments.



I can't hold back the hands of time...or even reverse them. I wouldn't if I could. However, the selfish and fallible side of me very much wishes that I could hold back those odd moments when I'm so vulnerable against that thing called grief.

Changes and new routines

Ouch! I'm sore. It's a good kind of sore, though, if that makes any sense.

I went over to Dad's house today and helped him paint a room. He used to paint buildings for a little extra cash when he was younger and, to this day, hates to pick up a roller. So, I figured that if I helped he wouldn't mind it so much. We managed to get the closet Kilzed/primed and a good first coat on the walls. One more quick coat, some baseboard and ceiling touch-ups and we'll be done. Thank goodness.

He's made other changes around the house, too. Does this bother me? Not a bit.

You see, from the shower curtain in the bathroom to the arrangement of certain things around the house, Mom's homey touches are everywhere. For me, seeing them is the very essence of bittersweet. I can just imagine what it's like for Dad, who is surrounded by it every night. I think it's healthy that he's made changes like new bedding, a different shower curtain, etc.

Her chair that she always sat in is still in the livingroom, there are still pictures of her up around the house and that same air of "homeyness" abounds. I need that. So does Dad, I think.

As to new routines, we've all had to adjust a great deal. Sundays are particularly hard as this was the day that we'd get together after church at Mom and Dad's house for a lunch that Aunt D, Mom and I would fix and then we'd visit and relax together. The first Sunday that we sat down to eat at the table was a bit awkward at first, but we managed. It was a lot quieter...I kind of missed the boisterous noise and clatter.

We're finding our way and I know that it's not always going to be easy and transitions won't always be smooth, but I know that we'll make it through.

"Second verse same as the first, a little bit louder, a little bit worse."

Wow, this is the first time I've had a chance to blog all week!

Weeeeeelllll, now that I think about it I've had at least a couple other opportunities but everytime I sat down to jot a blurt, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I miss Momma. Then I thought, no one wants to keep reading about my grief. These people are struggling with things in their own lives and probably want to read about something funny or uplifting.

I would sit for a minute or two and try to conjure up something only to give up and move to some other task that needed my attention. When you have a baby, making the most of every free second is paramount, after all.

Yet, grieving is where I am right now in my journey. I can't change it. I wouldn't, even if I could because that would mean Momma would still be in pain. I've been irrevocably altered by a great loss and writing about it, while it may not take the hurt away (I depend on God to help me with that biggie), might make it a little easier to cope so I'm in a functional, forward-moving frame of mind for my family. I've never experienced grief on this level before. One minute I'm mercifully distracted by the mundane neccessities of day-to-day living, the next minute I'm having flashbacks of what Momma looked like that last time in the hospital as she struggled with being intubated because her lungs were so full of blood. It's the most horrifyingly brutal emotional rollercoaster I could imagine...and, for the moment, I'm on it.

So if you begin to hear the phrase that makes up this post's title run through your mind when you read some of my future posts....forgive me, y'all. It's just where I am in my life right now. There may be general guidelines for the stages of grieving, but I've come to realize that it's a very personal thing to go through and that everyone works through it in their own time and in their own way and there's no handbook that tells how to get through it in 3 easy steps.

Thank you for your understanding and for the kind condolences and comments y'all have sent our way. They've meant a lot to me.