Mimi,
In the wake of your Grammy's death, I've been thinking about what people will say when I am gone. I knew her better than most, but as I sat one row from the casket, I was awed at how many lives she touched. Ex-cons stood up and declared that the June, through Christ, had changed their lives. And her doctor came. Doctors don't go to funerals anymore, much less do they stand up and speak, much less do the choke up about the mysterious joy she held. Hers did.
Consequently, I've been wondering what folks might say at my farewell gig. One thing they won't mention is my home-making skills. I've had some glances into how other homes are run and me-oh-my. Since you will likely inherit this lack of skill, I will go ahead and clue you in. Some mommies have color coded calendars. Not yours. Yours just uses the layering technique: write it in ballpoint, cross it out with felt tip and write something new, cross that out with marks-a-lot...you get the idea. And sweety, some mommies clean the toilets before they start smelling, and print grocery lists from an excel worksheet. They use their ironing board for more than counter space and do the laundry more than Legos. Not yours.
I'm also pretty sure they won't mention the frequency at which we sling mud, blow dandelions, and jump on the beds. For all are done in a socially innappropriate frequency around here.
It's shallow I know, but becoming aware of what others do better makes me feel like a bit of booger. The idea of being so structured and tidy seems lovely, yet impossible. Forgive me, I will never achieve that level of homemaking prowess.
As I reflect on my life and that of your Grammys, I want to suggest that there are a lot of things that won't matter. Serving cereal for dinner (again) won't matter. Loving others will.
My advice is this...care less about what people think of you, and more about what people think of themselves. That's how Grammy ran the show.
Passing on Grammy
I spoke at Grammy's funeral as an effort to honor her, capture her essence, and spread it wherever I can. This is part of what I said, just a few of my favorite attributes...
Laugh, loud and often.
Pray.
Feed the birds... and the squirrels, duck, deer and turkey too.
Take pictures, lots and lots of pictures.
For Breakfast, write tiny love notes, and roll them inside of Swedish Pancakes.
Read the bible, underline your favorite parts and know them by heart.
Take notes, lots and lots of notes.
Belly dance, and be willing to demonstrate on a moments notice.
If it’s legal and moral – try it.
Watch old family videos and roar in laughter.
Leave the front door always open, so as to let the light in.
Keep a journal.
Cry more when you’re happy, and less when you’re sad.
Love the unloveable.
Be bold and brave, strong and courageous, fight the good fight and finish strong.
On saying goodbye
Dear Mimi,
Since starting this blog, the Lord has taught me oodles about loving you. But today isn't about being a mom, it's about being a child.
It's about growing up. I'm thirty-four, and I've planned a few shin-digs. I've pulled off wedding and baby showers, birthdays and dinner parties. But never have I helped plan a funeral, until two weeks ago. That's what grown ups are for.
Two weeks ago, your beloved Grammy passed away. And as she approached Heaven's gate, the Lord worked my heart over like a meat tenderizer. I've never had to say goodbye to someone who is so closely entwined with my life, who was an everyday source of encouragement, help, and joy. Just over two months ago, I blogged about the Lord's strength in my life as we floated this river. Little did I know, a few weeks later, I would need His strength more than ever.
I found out a lot about myself. Mostly, that when someone I love is dying, my natural response is to busy-bee-it out of there. Make dinner, sweep the floor, call relatives. Check. Check. Check. As I bobbled around, I caught the glimpse of your dad, not lifting a finger, out of the corner of my eye.
Let me clarify. In the days before this phenomenal woman died, I literally focused on house chores. I actually asked if I could do more laundry. As I passed by the living room doorway, I saw what your daddy was doing, nearly every time. He wasn't cleaning. He was sitting inches away from his mother. He was smiling, encouraging, and praising. I got all verklempt with only a peek. He was doing exactly what I thought I could not muster, he was saying goodbye.
Mimi, whether you're helping someone face a tough trial, or even death, you will find its much easier to cook casserole than to pour your heart out on them. But I promise you this; if you let the dishes wait, and ask the Lord for the strength of the latter, you will never regret it.
I'm forever indebted to your daddy for showing me how to say goodbye. Forever indebted. I would have royally screwed it up otherwise. And I'm forever thankful for a Lord who braced my shaky knees along the way.
Since starting this blog, the Lord has taught me oodles about loving you. But today isn't about being a mom, it's about being a child.
It's about growing up. I'm thirty-four, and I've planned a few shin-digs. I've pulled off wedding and baby showers, birthdays and dinner parties. But never have I helped plan a funeral, until two weeks ago. That's what grown ups are for.
Two weeks ago, your beloved Grammy passed away. And as she approached Heaven's gate, the Lord worked my heart over like a meat tenderizer. I've never had to say goodbye to someone who is so closely entwined with my life, who was an everyday source of encouragement, help, and joy. Just over two months ago, I blogged about the Lord's strength in my life as we floated this river. Little did I know, a few weeks later, I would need His strength more than ever.
I found out a lot about myself. Mostly, that when someone I love is dying, my natural response is to busy-bee-it out of there. Make dinner, sweep the floor, call relatives. Check. Check. Check. As I bobbled around, I caught the glimpse of your dad, not lifting a finger, out of the corner of my eye.
Let me clarify. In the days before this phenomenal woman died, I literally focused on house chores. I actually asked if I could do more laundry. As I passed by the living room doorway, I saw what your daddy was doing, nearly every time. He wasn't cleaning. He was sitting inches away from his mother. He was smiling, encouraging, and praising. I got all verklempt with only a peek. He was doing exactly what I thought I could not muster, he was saying goodbye.
Mimi, whether you're helping someone face a tough trial, or even death, you will find its much easier to cook casserole than to pour your heart out on them. But I promise you this; if you let the dishes wait, and ask the Lord for the strength of the latter, you will never regret it.
I'm forever indebted to your daddy for showing me how to say goodbye. Forever indebted. I would have royally screwed it up otherwise. And I'm forever thankful for a Lord who braced my shaky knees along the way.
Armpits
Three years ago I had my face planted in one of my best friend's armpits.
My sweet friend had lost her husband unexpectedly and tragically. Mimi, it was the most shocking trial I had ever witnessed. She was so in love with him. The aftermath broke your mama's heart. Tara had a toddler and was pregant when he died. I mourned the loss of her husband as much as I mourned the loss of her boys' daddy.
In hindsight, this journey reminds me of a story in the bible about a battle Moses and his people fought. Moses stood up on a hill watching. Every time he raised his arms and staff up to heaven his people prevailed over the enemy. But everytime his arms got tired and dropped down, the enemy advanced. In response, two of his friends held his arms up, so that the battle was won.
Unlike Moses, Tara had a mirad of people holding her arms up. In the early aftermath, one of the women who did some holding was Miss Kristin, as you know her. The example set for me in that time, by all that she did for Tara will be with me always, challenging me to step-it-up when someone I love is in need. A friend in adversity is like no other.
Mimi, when you face trial, don't shy away from help. Keep your eyes on God, He is the ultimate source of perspective and strength. Let people hold you, and seek to hold others. Tara did something amazing by allowing me to stick my face in her armpit of a situation. She allowed me the vantage point to see the victory that would come later. If she never shared her struggle, I would not be so overjoyed now.
Last weekend, Tara got engaged. Surely her fiancé does not replace Preston, but how can my heart not sing at the sight of God's provision for this young family? He is a direct answer to my own sappy prayers that Tara be swept off her feet by a mature man of God. And the spectacular ring is a bonus!
There will be more battles in Tara's life with the true victory coming only when her race is finished. That said, it has been a privilege and honor to be her friend. If she had not been willing to share the pain, I would not be so over-the-top thrilled in the healing of her heart.
Proverbs 17:17
A friend is always loyal.
My sweet friend had lost her husband unexpectedly and tragically. Mimi, it was the most shocking trial I had ever witnessed. She was so in love with him. The aftermath broke your mama's heart. Tara had a toddler and was pregant when he died. I mourned the loss of her husband as much as I mourned the loss of her boys' daddy.
In hindsight, this journey reminds me of a story in the bible about a battle Moses and his people fought. Moses stood up on a hill watching. Every time he raised his arms and staff up to heaven his people prevailed over the enemy. But everytime his arms got tired and dropped down, the enemy advanced. In response, two of his friends held his arms up, so that the battle was won.
Unlike Moses, Tara had a mirad of people holding her arms up. In the early aftermath, one of the women who did some holding was Miss Kristin, as you know her. The example set for me in that time, by all that she did for Tara will be with me always, challenging me to step-it-up when someone I love is in need. A friend in adversity is like no other.
Mimi, when you face trial, don't shy away from help. Keep your eyes on God, He is the ultimate source of perspective and strength. Let people hold you, and seek to hold others. Tara did something amazing by allowing me to stick my face in her armpit of a situation. She allowed me the vantage point to see the victory that would come later. If she never shared her struggle, I would not be so overjoyed now.
Last weekend, Tara got engaged. Surely her fiancé does not replace Preston, but how can my heart not sing at the sight of God's provision for this young family? He is a direct answer to my own sappy prayers that Tara be swept off her feet by a mature man of God. And the spectacular ring is a bonus!
There will be more battles in Tara's life with the true victory coming only when her race is finished. That said, it has been a privilege and honor to be her friend. If she had not been willing to share the pain, I would not be so over-the-top thrilled in the healing of her heart.
Proverbs 17:17
A friend is always loyal.
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