Last night I dreamed Mom came back. We said we were going to believe with her until her last breath, and even then we would believe God could raise her from the dead like Lazarus if He wanted. I guess that’s why last night I dreamed she was suddenly just hanging out in the house. She was wearing her white beach cover-up, blond hair, smiling, holding Pace and rallying us all to go to the pool and lay out with her. We were all looking at each other like, “Is she serious?” and I asked her if she was sure the sun wouldn’t zap her energy too much. We were talking in whispers, not wanting to freak her out because she obviously didn’t know that we’d been to her graveside a few days before. I even remember pulling Dad into the garage and asking him if it was really OK to let her lay out. He said, “If that’s what she wants, but take her by the doctor first and get her kidneys checked.” 🙂 Pretty vivid, huh.
Dreams aside, I realized yesterday that I really do think about her constantly. I woke up, made the bed, walked downstairs, and had part of a conversation before I was jolted by the realization that I hadn’t re-remembered that Mom is gone for that 10 minute span. It isn’t like I walk around heavy with memories, but everything is tinged by her or the lack thereof. How then am I not depressed? How have I lost my mom, my best friend, my #1 fan (as she proudly named herself), my confidante and not thrown myself into a dark room and locked the door as I would have imagined? The only answers I have been able to come up with are God and your prayers. We all have dark moments… I actually told my aunt at our family Christmas that I just didn’t have it in me to smile at everybody…but the moments pass. I tell myself that she’s finally WITH Jesus and no memory we could create for her here can compare with the ecstasy of where she is now.
We are all reading a book on heaven, and I think that’s helping me too. I’ve always been big on wanting to SEE where people are so that I can “see” them when I think about them. Is that crazy? I’m pretty sure Jeremiah thinks it is. I had a breakdown a couple of years ago when he told me A) It would be inappropriate for me to be-bop up to the ER so that I could accurately imagine where he was 90% of our life (and watching him do a surgery was even more out of the question) and B) He didn’t feel the need to make the hour-long drive out to my work in Wilsonville so that he could “see” what I do (he did drive out there anyway though :)). Anyway, being able to accurately imagine the surroundings of those I care about has always been big to me, and this book is helping me to do that. It’s one thing to say she’s happy, it’s another thing to imagine what she’s really DOING up there.
There is one other problem that we all seem to be having and that is being around groups of people again. We don’t sit around in the house and mope or anything like that, but there is something hard about seeing people laughing and being “normal” when nothing about our existence is normal anymore. It may not be bad, but it certainly is different…and will never be the same again. I have found myself feeling distant and alone when I am surrounded by people. However, I went to dinner at a friends house tonight and it hardly bothered me at all. I am just praying it will keep getting better.
This is hard to admit, but there is also a kind of relief in my heart. Taylor really hit it when she said that she doesn’t know what to do with herself now that there is no worry in the back of her mind. There’s been 13 years that we’ve all been unable to be completely without the fear that God may NOT chose to heal Mom. Now that what we always thought to be the worst has happened, and we’ve seen that God still more than sustains us, that fear is no more. Even though it makes me feel a little guilty, there is relief in that.
Finally, I want to say that I have been overwhelmed by the posts on this blog. Your love and prayers are so GENUINE and we feel it. OH, how we feel it! The thought that there are “Anonymous” friends out there who have been moved by Mom’s life fills my insides with overflowing hope. It helps me to see how much bigger God’s plan is than my own.
The picture you are looking at is the last physical vision my Mom had on this earth. A host of people flooding our front yard (and down a side street that you can’t see), holding candles, singing carols, and praying for her. After smiling and waving down to these friends, she walked to her bed, laid down, closed her eyes and slipped into another state of consciousness. The next vision she saw was heaven. Mom was permanently healed yesterday morning around 5:45. I was praying and believing that I would be writing on this blog to report an earthly healing to you all. However, that was not God’s plan. All I know to say is that we misunderstood, because I know that God is not a man that He could lie (Numbers 23:19).