10 years

Mom and I in Laughlin, NV when I was 12

It's hard to believe that 10 years ago tomorrow, my mom entered heavens gates and seven years since my Grandpa Ken went to heaven. I don't have many pictures of her or Grandpa here, I wish I had more, Michele scanned this one and sent it to me. I was only 18 when mom died, engaged, and Reese was in bootcamp at the time. She had seen me in my wedding dress, I am so thankful for that. That's a weird time in life to lose your mom. I was transitioning from being a teenager to an adult, I needed her. I certainly went through a few hard years after she died, I think all of us did. Reese and I married so young and I moved to CA less than 5 months after she died. I am sure Reese didn't know what had happened to his once carefree, happy go lucky girlfriend he left when he went to bootcamp. Because he married someone who was experiencing deep pain, that carefree person had changed into someone with more of a burden to carry. I am so thankful that we made it through those years, they weren't easy.

A while back I read this devotion in The One Year Book of Hope by Nancy Guthrie and I bookmarked it. I can't say enough about this book, this devotion in particular, she took the words right out of my mouth.

"Birthdays. Deathdays. I feel like they are always coming at me. And it is hard to know what to do with these days when you have lost someone you love, isn't it? Letting them just go by doesn't seem right, and yet it can be so hard to work up the energy just to get out of bed, let alone do something constructive or meaningful.

When Hope's and Gabe's birthdays (her babies that both died around 6 months old from a genetic disorder) come around, I can usually find some way-sometimes very small and sometimes more significant- to celebrate their lives. I'm grateful they were here if for only a short time, so I can find joy in that. I celebrate the impact they had on other people, even with their significant limitations and the brevity of their lives, and I'm grateful. I remember the joy and richness they each brought to our lives and the gifts they gave us in the form of a deeper understanding of God and deeper relationships with people around us.

But those deathdays are hard. Or, I should say, it is the anticipation of the deathdays that is hard. For me, the day itself is not so bad. It is the days leading up to it, as I have a sense that death is coming again and I can't stop it. I feel a sense of dread and helplessness. Finding a way to "celebrate" a day of death seems absolutely ridiculous and almost like a denial of reality. But is it? Perhaps it is the ultimate embracing of reality.

On the day we are born, we enter a pain-saturated, sin-scarred, darkness-loving, soul-depriving existence for a determined number of years. On the day of our death, if we are believers, we enter a pain-free, perfect place that is ablaze with the glory of Christ, where our deepest longings and joys are fulfilled, not for a number of years, but forever. Think about it. Don't dismiss it because of how much you miss someone who is there or because of your fears of the unknown. Allow this truth to ruminate in your heart and illumine your mind. For you, and for the one you love who knows Christ, won't your deathday be your true birthday?"

That gave me something to think about. We are not conditioned to think this way, and this challenged me to change my thinking a bit. For us on earth, it still is a deathday, it is a sad day because we miss those we love so much, but for that person, they entered glory, everlasting life, what could be better than that?

What hit home the most for me in her devotion was what she wrote about the days leading up to that day. That week of the one year anniversary of Case's death, it was a feeling of an impending doom, almost an anxious feeling about what was to come, although it had already happened. But that day didn't seem like it was all that bad. I almost felt guilty for that, but what she says makes sense. I also don't always have the energy to do anything significant to honor that person whether it be mom, grandpa or Case. I have felt guilty about that too, but why? Probably because I see some grieving mothers, daughters etc doing some big project in honor of their loved one, but I am not that person. So now I do what I can do in that moment and as long as I feel right about that, it's good enough.

I've had a rough few weeks. I am busy, Estelle doesn't let me get much done, and Reese is gone alot. I don't like to advertise Reese's schedule on here, but I will sum it up as challenging. Him and I were talking tonight and he mentioned how hard the last year (14 months) has been, but that he was certain if won't last forever. It won't last forever, and what gets me by is looking at what we do have and trying to be thankful. Every night I look at Lane and Estelle as they lie there sleeping and I whisper to them "I adore you." I do, how can I not be thankful? And I am thankful that Case has Grandma Karen and Grandma Karen has her grandson Case.

A good name is better than fine perfume,
and the day of death better than the day of birth.
It is better to go to a house of mourning
than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart.

Ecclesiastes 7:1-2