Another Thanksgiving day has come and gone, but not without its stories, laughter, tears, curiosity and waiting. Waiting for this holiday anxiously, not at all eager for it to arrive. How would we be? My side of the family has always celebrated this holiday the Saturday before to accomodate those in the family who celebrate with their inlaws on Thanksgiving Day. This past Saturday has come and gone, and we survived, even with some laughter, low key hanging out, hugs and kisses.....more intenses hugging, and we all know why. Having our Thanksgiving the Saturday before gives us more time to just BE.........no hurries or worries.....no waiting for arrivals.....we're able to just BE.
As the month of November arrived, it brought about many memories of the past along with the memories of today that we were going to make. Those memories of past are bittersweet because they included my sister. So glad that they were a part of my memory; yet, sad that they were only a memory. Sad that the new memories to be made would not include her physical presence. Sad that her children would make those new memories without her, and perhaps thoughts of her would be fading in their minds. That's a tough pill to swallow when you want to keep her alive. We made it through, though. We are still here, and all was good.
On a lighter note, we made our new memories. Thanksgiving Day I still make a turkey for my own family with all its fixins. Some of us gathered who have no other commitments with family, and again, we made it through, even with some smiles, especially when poking fun at some of Chrissy's ways and mannerisms. We played our silly games, encouraging Frank to play, telling him what Chrissy would say to him in her own way using humor and acting out her sassiness, and we smiled. We were able to smile and laugh with aching hearts, feeling what we feel and knowing to be true. It is not about us, but we think of Frank and her children, managing in this new way, and hoping.... hoping they will be okay.
My sister, Susie, had this idea to make a new tradition by being a part of the crowd that ventures out on Black Friday. Each year the advertisements to Christmas buying becomes earlier and earlier, and I am not one of those who enjoys the crowds or the buying at such a frantic time. The sales are not worth the aggravation to me. One time, many years ago I ventured out to the toy stores early on Black Friday, thinking it would be fun, an adventure, and that I was ahead of the game, only to find frustration for a lack of finding the items and/or sales that I was looking for and fighting the lady next to me for a cart. I swore I would never do that again. Many make it a tradition of their own, this early buying, literally early buying, and I am not an early riser except by necessity. The kids have to go to school, and I must get them there. So Susie had this wild idea for Cassie, her and me to make a new tradition. We must do this for ourselves; make these new traditions because the old ones are not the same without her. Now as I said, the times become earlier each year, and this year some of our stores opened up late on Thanksgiving Day, and wouldn't it be great to take advantage of those sales? Cassie and Susie left my house after dinner late in the evening and said that they would be back in an hour to pick me up for the 10:00 opening of one of our infamous toy stores. They would head up to Susie's house, which is within walking distance from mine, laying down Lucy, and the men would take care of the homestead while we headed out to the wild. Susie and Cassie were so proud of themselves as they returned, zipping into my driveway around 9:30. We would arrive early for the outstanding bargains....and that infamous toy store is about 10 minutes from my home. We're chatting in the car, laughing, thinking of all the bargains that we would take advantage of, but of course, I was out there many years ago, and I saw the crowds and knew what we would be up against. Cassie and Susie were novices, and eager to take advantage of the bargains, not really knowing about the craziness. We approached the traffic light before our destination, and I gasped! Yes, I gasped, as I saw the sea of cars in the parking lot. Cassie and Susie looked over as well when they heard mme gasp, and all they could say was, "I can't believe it!? What are people buying? Who are these people? No way!" The line had formed from the front door of this store and traveled along the lengthy,long sidewalk and wrapped itself around to the edge of the street. As my spirited sister, Susie, entered the parking lot, she continued to say, "What are these people after???" We were going for the excitement, the gawking and perhaps to find a bargain or two....but there was no getting into this store in the near future. We all agreed that we weren't crazy enough to stand in this enormous line, in the cold for ANY toy. Even when they did open their doors, we would be waiting. There is a limit to the amount of people who could fit in this store. We started laughing as seas of people gathered like cattle to enter the doors of a toy store. Our tummies were full, feeling relaxed and we were in shock that people really did this. Our car was moving at a snail's pace with lines of cars in front of us when my sister decides to roll down her window, and she wants to ask someone what they are buying. I begin to hover down in my seat; knowing any minute that this huge crowd could lose lose their cool and go wild, and I don't want them charging the car. Drunken moms and grandmas are hovering the parking lot from the day's festivities, and my sister is yelling out the car window to anyone who will pay attention, "What are all of you buying????" We finally reach the front of the line, God knows how early they arrived to get there, and again Susie yells, "What are you buying???" I break down in gutteral laughter, as the three of us mock the individuals who do this. "We'll start our own tradition. We'll drive around to all these crowds of waiting people, with our hot chocolate and toasty cars, and yell from our car." That will be our new tradition, gawking at the seas of crowds who stay up late or wake up early to find these so called bargains. Earlier in the day, we talked about control and "the man" who sticks it to the tax paying people. Definitely, I believe these stores lure people in. I'm not convinced that the bargains are worth the waiting. Why are they waiting? I realize for many that this waking up early or heading out late with their families or friends is a tradition, but for me, I prefer to make those traditions from the warmth of my car. We agreed that while they are waiting, our new tradition would be to gawk at all the crowds, with food and beverages of course, in our own car. Chrissy for sure was laughing with us.
As we drove around to other stores gawking and laughing, tents erected.....we looked in disbelief. We've heard these stories on the news before, people doing this, waiting, even losing their lives over this thing, this idea of waiting and finding the bargains. It's a sight to behold, and while they were waiting in the cold, I was laughing from the warmth of my sister's car with people I loved. Perhaps the cold and waiting were worth it if they were with people they loved. Perhaps that is why they were waiting.
Happy Black Friday!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Two Hearts Two Flowers
Knowing flowers isn't my claim to fame, but knowing that she lives in me and around me are so vivid on these crisp autumn days. Autumn is my most favorite time of the year with its array of browns, golds and oranges. I love the combination of colors, and it's reflected on the inside colors of my house. It brings a sense of calm and anticipation of all the festivities of the season with Halloween and Thanksgiving......shortly followed by the onset of Christmas.
One morning as I set my tired feet to the floor; I asked Chrissy to please show me a sign that she was near. (Please knock me over with your presence my friend) Of course, I know she is always here, but I need those tangibles every once in awhile to keep me moving some days. So here begins the story of two hearts and two flowers. One notion that became clear a long time ago is that my husband is not a flower giver. Understand when I say that flowers are wonderful, but for me, I appreciate them more given in long intervals. That sounds like a bunch of rubbish, but I hold onto the hugs and kisses more or the "I love yous"......those are more precious to me. When he gives me flowers, I know it's genuine and heartfelt. He has so many other special qualities, but romancing me with flowers isn't one of them. As memories invade my soul constantly during these November days; many tears have been shed. My heart aches to be near her, and I can't help but reflect on where we were this time last year. My hubby can sense this, too, and he sees the pain of my soul, missing my sister's physical presence near me. Thus came the day he brought me home flowers from Trader Joes.......one of my most favorite places to shop, especially their fresh flowers. He brought them home on a day that was most needed as I was thinking about the news we heard on November 12th last year. My sister, Susie, called to say that Chrissy's doctor recommended hospice care as there was nothing more that they could do medically speaking. Susie was with her that day when they went to the doctor for the last time. Hearing this sort of news puts you in a state of shock; yet, it wasn't a total surprise to me. My sister's health was declining quickly before me, and I knew her earthly time was nearing an end. With that said, the memories invade my mind, and so this gorgeous bouquet of flowers which included some daisies, roses, iris buds and some other unidentifiable ones was given to me by my honey. The fact that this man of mine knew.....he knew and remembered, and that's all that mattered to me. With a special card and flowers in hand, they dried my tears. The flowers adorned my kitchen counter and for the next days, I would look at them and smell their fragrances. One day, one of the buds had bloomed into a gorgeous, pink iris. A couple of days it sat alone in the variety of other flowers. So back to the day that I awoke, longing to see a sign of her presence. Always knowing of course, but I'm human, and I crave for those signs. Those signs confirming what I already know. On that morning I prayed for her to make her presence known.....knock me over. I went about my day at work, and I was stopped my my supervisor who told me that many compliments were coming his way about my performance there, and that made my day! Later on, I was finishing my day, cleaning up the dinner dishes when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye: the iris that was one......full bloom of course, was now standing beside another pink iris that was connected to it in full bloom as well. Perhaps you might say it was no big deal, but only that morning it was a closed bud. I remember this because the one iris was in full bloom for a few days and the other one was still a bud. I thought this was kind of strange because both of them were on the same stem, but only one had been opened for the past few days. How blessed that is that on the day I ask her to show me a sign, the other pink iris opens itself. They still sit beside each other, and for this week I see them still beautiful, pink and strong......just as she must be in the life beyond........both of us still connected just as the flowers are on the same stem.....connected. I didn't share this story with Marty, but I kept it to myself. It was on this same day, too, later in the evening when I had a hair appointment and on my way home I thought about stopping for an icecream, but I decided not to. With the holidays approaching, it was better that I laid off this favorite treat of mine. After the kids went to bed that evening, Marty said, "I need to make a run." (our code word for going to Dairy Queen) I chuckled to myself, but it only got better when he arrived back from his run. He said to me, "You know, your sister's been calling me." I responded with, "Deni? Susie? About what??"
"Your sister's been calling me," he repeated with an odd look on his face. It was then that I knew he meant Chrissy. It is very rare to hear Marty say something like this. I paused, and then I asked, "What has she been calling you about?"
"Well, strange as this sounds, the past few days.....atleast three times, when I drive under a street light, it flickers off, and then you come to mind. Tonight, it happened again, and I thought of you and Dairy Queen. She kept bugging me about getting you Dairy Queen!" We both looked at each other because I never mentioned to Marty about getting me any icecream that night when I felt my craving for the sweet treat.
Our two hearts are still connected like those two flowers. There's no doubt Chrissy and I live in this realm, not connected by the body anymore, but most definitely we are connected in the heart, in spirit. I've never doubted this, but when my heart aches for the physical, it's nice to be reminded. I know we are forever connected as two sister hearts should be.
"I love you my friend"
One morning as I set my tired feet to the floor; I asked Chrissy to please show me a sign that she was near. (Please knock me over with your presence my friend) Of course, I know she is always here, but I need those tangibles every once in awhile to keep me moving some days. So here begins the story of two hearts and two flowers. One notion that became clear a long time ago is that my husband is not a flower giver. Understand when I say that flowers are wonderful, but for me, I appreciate them more given in long intervals. That sounds like a bunch of rubbish, but I hold onto the hugs and kisses more or the "I love yous"......those are more precious to me. When he gives me flowers, I know it's genuine and heartfelt. He has so many other special qualities, but romancing me with flowers isn't one of them. As memories invade my soul constantly during these November days; many tears have been shed. My heart aches to be near her, and I can't help but reflect on where we were this time last year. My hubby can sense this, too, and he sees the pain of my soul, missing my sister's physical presence near me. Thus came the day he brought me home flowers from Trader Joes.......one of my most favorite places to shop, especially their fresh flowers. He brought them home on a day that was most needed as I was thinking about the news we heard on November 12th last year. My sister, Susie, called to say that Chrissy's doctor recommended hospice care as there was nothing more that they could do medically speaking. Susie was with her that day when they went to the doctor for the last time. Hearing this sort of news puts you in a state of shock; yet, it wasn't a total surprise to me. My sister's health was declining quickly before me, and I knew her earthly time was nearing an end. With that said, the memories invade my mind, and so this gorgeous bouquet of flowers which included some daisies, roses, iris buds and some other unidentifiable ones was given to me by my honey. The fact that this man of mine knew.....he knew and remembered, and that's all that mattered to me. With a special card and flowers in hand, they dried my tears. The flowers adorned my kitchen counter and for the next days, I would look at them and smell their fragrances. One day, one of the buds had bloomed into a gorgeous, pink iris. A couple of days it sat alone in the variety of other flowers. So back to the day that I awoke, longing to see a sign of her presence. Always knowing of course, but I'm human, and I crave for those signs. Those signs confirming what I already know. On that morning I prayed for her to make her presence known.....knock me over. I went about my day at work, and I was stopped my my supervisor who told me that many compliments were coming his way about my performance there, and that made my day! Later on, I was finishing my day, cleaning up the dinner dishes when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye: the iris that was one......full bloom of course, was now standing beside another pink iris that was connected to it in full bloom as well. Perhaps you might say it was no big deal, but only that morning it was a closed bud. I remember this because the one iris was in full bloom for a few days and the other one was still a bud. I thought this was kind of strange because both of them were on the same stem, but only one had been opened for the past few days. How blessed that is that on the day I ask her to show me a sign, the other pink iris opens itself. They still sit beside each other, and for this week I see them still beautiful, pink and strong......just as she must be in the life beyond........both of us still connected just as the flowers are on the same stem.....connected. I didn't share this story with Marty, but I kept it to myself. It was on this same day, too, later in the evening when I had a hair appointment and on my way home I thought about stopping for an icecream, but I decided not to. With the holidays approaching, it was better that I laid off this favorite treat of mine. After the kids went to bed that evening, Marty said, "I need to make a run." (our code word for going to Dairy Queen) I chuckled to myself, but it only got better when he arrived back from his run. He said to me, "You know, your sister's been calling me." I responded with, "Deni? Susie? About what??"
"Your sister's been calling me," he repeated with an odd look on his face. It was then that I knew he meant Chrissy. It is very rare to hear Marty say something like this. I paused, and then I asked, "What has she been calling you about?"
"Well, strange as this sounds, the past few days.....atleast three times, when I drive under a street light, it flickers off, and then you come to mind. Tonight, it happened again, and I thought of you and Dairy Queen. She kept bugging me about getting you Dairy Queen!" We both looked at each other because I never mentioned to Marty about getting me any icecream that night when I felt my craving for the sweet treat.
Our two hearts are still connected like those two flowers. There's no doubt Chrissy and I live in this realm, not connected by the body anymore, but most definitely we are connected in the heart, in spirit. I've never doubted this, but when my heart aches for the physical, it's nice to be reminded. I know we are forever connected as two sister hearts should be.
"I love you my friend"
Thursday, November 11, 2010
I've Got Soul But I'm Not a Soldier
Who am I to complain when I am able to see my family everyday while so many others wait months and even years to see their own families? Who am I to complain when there is a parent, a child, a spouse who has buried their loved one today for the sake of our country.....for me......for all Americans? Today I reflect upon my dad, my uncles, my family and friends who fought in various wars solely to protect my rights as an American. Without a doubt, I consider myself patriotic, but what does that mean? What exactly does that mean for you? Are we all grateful for the many sacrifices, the blood that has been shed for our right to speak and write as we want, worship wherever we wish, live how we choose to live and be free? Are we grateful? I am.....and I thank all the young Americans who have walked this journey especially those who have paid the ultimate price with their lives. Each having their own story as to why they chose to be a soldier. A soldier is a special breed, and today all of us should take pause to honor those who have walked the walk and not just talked it.
As a child, I remember hearing stories from a distance of the heartaches of war. During dinner, when we complained about our food, it was a familiar response from my dad that made me cringe. Now understand that my dad took the shock you type of parenting stradegy. He didn't waste time in mincing words. There was no filter in the Meyer household. He didn't mind telling us that people were starved and tortured to death in China. We should be grateful to have a table with food while people in other countries were eating each other to survive. How about that for dinner conversation? As a little girl, it did hit a chord with me, and of course I ate everything on my plate. Thus began my lifetime wave of food issues! More than that, I also got a sense from my dad that there was ugliness in war, but it was necessary to keep our place as Americans. It was a privilege to live here in our country, and it was our duty to uphold those rights. If we weren't the soldiers, we must honor those who were.
We never asked our dad or uncles about those war time stories. There was an unspoken understanding that it was too painful to mention. We think we want to know those stories but do we? There were probably too many unspeakable moments that no one of that era wanted to relive. I do recall vivid memories of my Uncle Bill who served during Vietnam, his letters home and the recordings made during Aunt Marie's Christmas gatherings. It cracked me up watching Aunt Josephine attempting to talk with Uncle Bill into the microphone after she had one too many, awaiting a response from Uncle Bill. "Bill? Billlll?? Billly???? Hello Bill?" Everyone else was too busy laughing that no one else was able to grab the microphone quick enough. I was there, though, I saw it. She took that old-fashioned reel to reel microphone and awaited his response. I think in her mind it was probably high-tech in those days. Perhaps she thought it was a telephone. Maybe it was a combination of the liquor and all the excitement of the holiday gathering. Either way, I suppose it brought some laughter to a very awkward time in our history.
I remember the day Uncle Bill showed up unexpectedly to our home. My Aunt Nancy happened to be at our house, and while she was downstairs doing laundry my mom answered the front door with Uncle Bill standing before her. I remember tears, and as a little girl, I didn't quite understand. I was about four or five years old at the time. He then went to greet my Aunt Nancy as she walked up the stairs with a laundry basket in her hands. He walked down one side and she walked up the other, not noticing immediately who was beside her. Uncle Bill said, "Hi Mickey." (her nickname) Aunt Nancy then replied, "Oh hi Bill." A second or two passed and then she suddenly stopped, "Bill!" Again the tears, but I did not understand. Why was everyone crying???
I am filled with so many wonderful memories. This soul of mine has been growing within since I've been born, but I am by no means a soldier. This soul grows from all the joys, the laughter and the sorrows. All of my experiences in life have shaped this soul within that has been traveling, learning, understanding and growing still. Some say my soul, my being is God given and I am to figure out what its purpose is. Without a doubt, I believe that I am a being with many dimensions, many talents, but I do not claim to be a soldier. That my friends I leave to the brave ones..........our true beloved soldiers of this great United States. Those who are here as well as those who have gone before us that fought for our freedoms, they are the true soldiers. At some point in their lives, they were chosen. Whether they enlisted by force, by choice or by circumstance........they were there for me and generations before me.
On this day, I honor and respect our soldiers by saying "The Pledge of Allegiance," and placing my hand over my heart, respectfully listening to the National Anthem, and saying "thank you" to any soldier I happen to meet. Those are easy ways to say "thank you" back without too much effort. Ultimately the right to vote is another one of those rights given to us by our fore fathers, blood shed through the Revolutionary War. You may have your own personal political views, but the bottom line is this: you walk these streets in freedom because of blood shed by our veterans. You watch your televisions, use your cell phones, attend your choice of schools and live where you choose to live. It's not at all a perfect country, but it is ours. Look around.....look around to other countries. Ask yourselves this: "Where would I be without them, our veterans?" My friends, please pay homage to these great people in whatever way possible. The life we have been given here is what it is because of them. Although I've got soul, I am not a soldier, but I will honor those who are. To all of our soldiers, past and present: THANK YOU!
"God Bless America!"
As a child, I remember hearing stories from a distance of the heartaches of war. During dinner, when we complained about our food, it was a familiar response from my dad that made me cringe. Now understand that my dad took the shock you type of parenting stradegy. He didn't waste time in mincing words. There was no filter in the Meyer household. He didn't mind telling us that people were starved and tortured to death in China. We should be grateful to have a table with food while people in other countries were eating each other to survive. How about that for dinner conversation? As a little girl, it did hit a chord with me, and of course I ate everything on my plate. Thus began my lifetime wave of food issues! More than that, I also got a sense from my dad that there was ugliness in war, but it was necessary to keep our place as Americans. It was a privilege to live here in our country, and it was our duty to uphold those rights. If we weren't the soldiers, we must honor those who were.
We never asked our dad or uncles about those war time stories. There was an unspoken understanding that it was too painful to mention. We think we want to know those stories but do we? There were probably too many unspeakable moments that no one of that era wanted to relive. I do recall vivid memories of my Uncle Bill who served during Vietnam, his letters home and the recordings made during Aunt Marie's Christmas gatherings. It cracked me up watching Aunt Josephine attempting to talk with Uncle Bill into the microphone after she had one too many, awaiting a response from Uncle Bill. "Bill? Billlll?? Billly???? Hello Bill?" Everyone else was too busy laughing that no one else was able to grab the microphone quick enough. I was there, though, I saw it. She took that old-fashioned reel to reel microphone and awaited his response. I think in her mind it was probably high-tech in those days. Perhaps she thought it was a telephone. Maybe it was a combination of the liquor and all the excitement of the holiday gathering. Either way, I suppose it brought some laughter to a very awkward time in our history.
I remember the day Uncle Bill showed up unexpectedly to our home. My Aunt Nancy happened to be at our house, and while she was downstairs doing laundry my mom answered the front door with Uncle Bill standing before her. I remember tears, and as a little girl, I didn't quite understand. I was about four or five years old at the time. He then went to greet my Aunt Nancy as she walked up the stairs with a laundry basket in her hands. He walked down one side and she walked up the other, not noticing immediately who was beside her. Uncle Bill said, "Hi Mickey." (her nickname) Aunt Nancy then replied, "Oh hi Bill." A second or two passed and then she suddenly stopped, "Bill!" Again the tears, but I did not understand. Why was everyone crying???
I am filled with so many wonderful memories. This soul of mine has been growing within since I've been born, but I am by no means a soldier. This soul grows from all the joys, the laughter and the sorrows. All of my experiences in life have shaped this soul within that has been traveling, learning, understanding and growing still. Some say my soul, my being is God given and I am to figure out what its purpose is. Without a doubt, I believe that I am a being with many dimensions, many talents, but I do not claim to be a soldier. That my friends I leave to the brave ones..........our true beloved soldiers of this great United States. Those who are here as well as those who have gone before us that fought for our freedoms, they are the true soldiers. At some point in their lives, they were chosen. Whether they enlisted by force, by choice or by circumstance........they were there for me and generations before me.
On this day, I honor and respect our soldiers by saying "The Pledge of Allegiance," and placing my hand over my heart, respectfully listening to the National Anthem, and saying "thank you" to any soldier I happen to meet. Those are easy ways to say "thank you" back without too much effort. Ultimately the right to vote is another one of those rights given to us by our fore fathers, blood shed through the Revolutionary War. You may have your own personal political views, but the bottom line is this: you walk these streets in freedom because of blood shed by our veterans. You watch your televisions, use your cell phones, attend your choice of schools and live where you choose to live. It's not at all a perfect country, but it is ours. Look around.....look around to other countries. Ask yourselves this: "Where would I be without them, our veterans?" My friends, please pay homage to these great people in whatever way possible. The life we have been given here is what it is because of them. Although I've got soul, I am not a soldier, but I will honor those who are. To all of our soldiers, past and present: THANK YOU!
"God Bless America!"
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Brightness Through Cloudy Visions
The other day I was traveling in my car, on my way to pick up Maria for swimming, and I saw the most precious, monumental sky. This past Thursday, the clouds were in full fall swing, giving you that glimpse of light through the cloudiness, appearing like mountains in the sky. Many of us at work were even noticing the drastic changes from the morning to the afternoon. All of us wondering if rain or tornadoes might be possible. Though it wasn't a rainy, cloud-like darkness, but one of those light-filled cloudy skies, cool and entrancing, taking the shape of distant lands. Those type of days where you want to make a huge pot of simmering chilly, sit yourself in front of the fireplace and cozy under the warm blankets with a good book. That's the kind of day it was.
These days of reliving what I never thought I would experience in my life; living beside my sister while she was approaching the last days of her living life; wondering how to live my life here on earth without her. There aren't words to describe watching someone you love suffer, and there isn't much to do but love and support them to the best of your ability. No words can describe the intensity of your emotions, the helplessness that explodes inside you. All these memories are once again resurfacing to their fullest. My emotions are in full swing, and I find myself creeping within once again, trying to avoid human contact. That's who I am. While some search for human contact; I find comfort in solitude.
As I was driving Thursday evening, traveling west and watching this gorgeous fall sky; all these thoughts were rummaging through my mind. How did it all happen so quick? That time with her.....while so fortunate given the opportunity to spend time with her; it was all too quick. Soon will come that day, November 12th, when we learned that there was nothing else medically that could be done to save her. I remember the date because it was also the birthday of my dear friend, Kris. I continued to stare up in the skies but also realizing I must look ahead to the road. I didn't want to crash into someone.....but I couldn't keep my eyes away from that sky. Metaphorically speaking, I found myself thinking about my own life....how I'm living it. I am always looking up towards the heavens, hardly able to keep my eyes on the road and hoping I don't crash.
So as I drove looking up at the sky, hardly able to keep my eyes on the road, I saw these rays of sunshine beaming from the sky down to earth......and all I could do was smile. It's hard to explain, but with all the sadness that lives in my soul, there is also a feeling of joy knowing that those rays were meant for me. Perhaps thousands of other people driving Manchester Road that day may have seen or felt the same, but somehow I felt that message coming from her. She knows the sadness that I feel, and without a doubt I felt her. I felt her telling me that through this grief; I will feel joy without her physical presence because her spiritual presence is always there with me.
After picking up Maria, I said, "Maria, look up at the sky.....look how bright it is through the clouds and the sun beams reaching down. That is your mom telling us that she is watching us and you." I couldn't help myself in telling her that. As I told Chrissy, I would remind her children of her mother's presence and love for them. No matter what, I will. You see, my friends, there is brightness through the cloudy visions. We read it in sympathy cards or hear it from those who try to comfort us, but we must see it for ourselves. Look around for those precious moments as they carry us through to the next moments.
"We may not see the shining of the promises-but still they shine! And the strength of the hills that is his also, is not for one moment less because of our human weakness. Heaven is no dream. Feelings go and come like clouds. But the "hills" and "stars" abide."
by Amy Carmichael
These days of reliving what I never thought I would experience in my life; living beside my sister while she was approaching the last days of her living life; wondering how to live my life here on earth without her. There aren't words to describe watching someone you love suffer, and there isn't much to do but love and support them to the best of your ability. No words can describe the intensity of your emotions, the helplessness that explodes inside you. All these memories are once again resurfacing to their fullest. My emotions are in full swing, and I find myself creeping within once again, trying to avoid human contact. That's who I am. While some search for human contact; I find comfort in solitude.
As I was driving Thursday evening, traveling west and watching this gorgeous fall sky; all these thoughts were rummaging through my mind. How did it all happen so quick? That time with her.....while so fortunate given the opportunity to spend time with her; it was all too quick. Soon will come that day, November 12th, when we learned that there was nothing else medically that could be done to save her. I remember the date because it was also the birthday of my dear friend, Kris. I continued to stare up in the skies but also realizing I must look ahead to the road. I didn't want to crash into someone.....but I couldn't keep my eyes away from that sky. Metaphorically speaking, I found myself thinking about my own life....how I'm living it. I am always looking up towards the heavens, hardly able to keep my eyes on the road and hoping I don't crash.
So as I drove looking up at the sky, hardly able to keep my eyes on the road, I saw these rays of sunshine beaming from the sky down to earth......and all I could do was smile. It's hard to explain, but with all the sadness that lives in my soul, there is also a feeling of joy knowing that those rays were meant for me. Perhaps thousands of other people driving Manchester Road that day may have seen or felt the same, but somehow I felt that message coming from her. She knows the sadness that I feel, and without a doubt I felt her. I felt her telling me that through this grief; I will feel joy without her physical presence because her spiritual presence is always there with me.
After picking up Maria, I said, "Maria, look up at the sky.....look how bright it is through the clouds and the sun beams reaching down. That is your mom telling us that she is watching us and you." I couldn't help myself in telling her that. As I told Chrissy, I would remind her children of her mother's presence and love for them. No matter what, I will. You see, my friends, there is brightness through the cloudy visions. We read it in sympathy cards or hear it from those who try to comfort us, but we must see it for ourselves. Look around for those precious moments as they carry us through to the next moments.
"We may not see the shining of the promises-but still they shine! And the strength of the hills that is his also, is not for one moment less because of our human weakness. Heaven is no dream. Feelings go and come like clouds. But the "hills" and "stars" abide."
by Amy Carmichael
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