Traveling with Tracy

2010-11-06T06:15:00.000-07:00

Here it is...I am going to attempt to write something down in this blog once a week. That's a huge commitment for me, but I shall try?

Does this post count as this week's?

still learning...

2010-03-21T14:03:00.000-07:00

When I was younger, around 10 or so; I would go to Camp of the Nations for a week. I began going with a friend and after that was able to pick which week I wanted to go based on who the special speakers were. It was a camp that neither Tim or Tami had gone to, and so that alone made it special since it was something that was distinctly "mine". It's strange the memories we are able to retain. Most things about my camp days are foggy at best, but a few things are still very vivid and probably always will be.

This one week in particular just "happened" to be the week that they bused in the "underprivileged city kids". I like to think that if Mom had known it "their" week, she would have talked me into going for a different week. I was still very shy at that point and Mom never did stop being protective of her children.

I don't recall the girls' name, but I remember her very well. She was two years younger than me, with exceptionally dark skin, the obligatory "city" corn rows and to be honest; she frightened me a little bit. But for some reason she liked me and sought me out to hang out with her and her friends. Nothing made me more uncomfortable , but I wanted them to like me because I was afraid of them. Then one afternoon, I was in the cabin by myself; though I'm not sure why since that rarely happened. She came bursting through the door and asked me where our counselor was. So I told her, but I guess she was looking for the other one (each cabin had two). When I told her I didn't know where she was, she punched me in the gut and demanded I go to find her.

So I did just that. It never occurred to me to tell anyone what had happened in the cabin. But I do remember being shocked that no one simply sensed it, and mostly I was just shocked that she had gotten away with it. Later that night, I remember we were standing under the zip line and her asking something of me. In a moment of sheer bravery, or perhaps stupidity, I told her to do it herself. Her response to me was another punch. I have to admit this time it was almost "welcomed" because we were surrounded by people and surely she wouldn't get away with it this time. But again she did. I felt very unimportant after that and was dreading the rest of the week. Needless to say, I did everything that she asked of me. I hated everything about that week and was relieved when Mom and Linda showed up to take us home (Tim Hoal went with me).

I don't know as I ever told anyone about what happened to me that week. At some point, I did tell Tim, though I'm not quite sure what prompted me to do so. I never really gave it much thought; it didn't define who I was or how I chose to live my life. But maybe it's shaped me more than I had thought.

This girl never really crossed my mind until I went back to work after having the baby. A woman started while I was out that bears a resemblance to her. I even contemplated it being the same person, but my co worker is 20yrs my senior. But she has the same remarkably dark skin, and has a very ignorant attitude. Up until recently, I was striving so hard to please her, even though in the back of my mind I was afraid of her. But all this was to no avail. I've let this woman borrow things, given her things, and even baked her a cake for her courthouse wedding. But this was all to no avail. She went out of her way to avoid me and make me feel uncomfortable. It was so bizarre and foolish that it was funny.

At first it really did bother me. But then it occurred to me that there were repercussions for someone punching me now; which I think was my ultimate fear. There is a definite difference between ignorance and stupidity and she isn't stupid. Once I began to realize that she couldn't hurt me a lot began to change, and as abruptly as this "feud" started, it was over and she was talking to me again.

I think it's in our nature to desire for people to like us. But I think I take it to the next level. If I know someone doesn't like me I will bend over backwards to try to win their approval. I will become anxious and nervous until I change their minds. But this most recent episode taught me bunches. I did everything in my power to please her and yet for nearly two months when I walked into a room, she would walk out. I will not be mean, but I will be more guarded. To be honest, I don't know which attitude is more biblical, but I do know forcing people to like you is exhausting and rarely works.

Garrett's birthday in a nutshell....

2010-02-11T16:35:00.000-08:00

We had big plans for the day. First up, he wanted to go Dunkin Donuts to eat a donut inside; that we went inside was a big deal. We had a coupon for a free meal at Red Robin (for his birthday) and then we were going to head to Toys R Us. That was the plan.

In the end, he was perhaps too anxious to get to the rest of the festivities of the day, that he didn't want to go into Dunkin. "You can go in if you want to, but I'll stay here, otherwise there's a drivethru." Next we went to the toystore. We have quite the ritual when we go there. It involves going to play with the train table, then going over to the power wheels and playing on those. We started the ritual in the usual manner, but once we were done with the trains; we detoured to pick out new underwear, Handy Manny for all who were wondering.

Then we went over to the Power Wheels...Garrett practically drools over these every time. But those buggers are pricey. "How bout I save up money to buy one of these, just like Curious George did when he wanted the boat?" Kay, great, I do give him money here and there because he is turning into a great help--sweeping, mopping, and shovelling without being asked. He picked out the Escalade for the one he would like to save up for; hey at least he dreams big. So now he is $300 some away from his purchase....

Then we went to Red Robin for lunch. Since he is now 4, he decided what he was going to get and told me he was going to order it himself. Sure enough, when the girl came over, "I'd like chicken fingers and apple slices. Thank you" He's so big now! They came out and sang to him and gave him balloons and ice cream; which made his day.

He was so grown up today. It's hard to believe that just 4 years ago he was a newborn, on some level it seems so long ago and then other times, it seems like last week. Tim's mom kept the baby so it was just the two of us. I truly enjoyed spending the day with him. He cracked me up; at one point in the day, I asked him how he was and he said "I think I'm perfect". He's such a good kid and I'm so blessed.

my ramblings about Mom

2010-02-08T13:06:00.000-08:00

Today I allowed myself to listen to a song that, normally when I hear it, I switch the station. Not because I don't like it but because I identify with it way too much. Here are the lyrics (the song is by Matthew West):

Don't be mad if I cry/It just hurts so bad sometimes/'Cause everyday it's sinking in
And I have to say goodbye all over again/You know I bet it feels good to have the weight of this world off your shoulders now/I'm dreaming of the day when I'm finally there with you/Save a place for me/Save a place for me/I'll be there soon/I'll be there soon/Save a place for me/Save some grace for meI'll be there soonI'll be there soon/I have asked the question why/But I guess the answer's for another time
So instead I'll pray with every tear/And be thankful for the time I had you here
And I wanna live my life just like you did/Make the most of my time just like you did
And I wanna make my home up in the sky/Just like you did/Oh, but until I get there
Until I get there

I don't know why exactly but I've really been missing Mom, and quite emotional about it if I let myself dwell on it. I'm sure there are lots of factors. This Thursday, Garrett will be four; but it will also mark 6 months that Mom is gone. Wyatt is nine months now and loving life. He is so much fun right now; and I know if she were here, she would eat it up. Or it could simply be the sunshine, and my flower catalogs that are in my mailbox every day.

Well needless to say I cried like a baby on the way home. It's so odd, when Mom was in hospice, it was imperative for me to be there as much as was possible. When her eyes would open, the room stopped, and I hung on every word that she said. I felt loved and special if she had something to say to just me. I told myself that those times would be what I would cling to and I promised myself that I wouldn't forget. I haven't forgotten, but a strange thing has happened. I very rarely think about those weeks, not because of the pain involved with it, but rather, when I think of Mom, that is not what comes to mind.

The things that I look back on and incidentally are always running through my mind, are so common place, it's profound. It's taking those catalogs to the house, pouring over them and dreaming; and then paring it down to what we could afford/had the energy to plant. It's little things that G will tell me about, that I never knew of, that put a smile on my face. I miss the everyday with her.

One of things that struck me at the memorial service was how many people stood up and said how they felt like they had lost their best friend. It really was overwhelming to me. At that moment, I felt extremely privileged that God chose me to be one of her children. I was so thankful for all those years that I was able to spend with her, and felt extremely loved by God. It's taken me nearly six months to understand that at her service is one of those times I felt God wrapping His arms around me.

Day 5...#2

2010-02-07T11:35:00.000-08:00

I think it's getting better. This sounds gross, I know, but honestly what part of this hasn't been nasty? Anyway my lips are starting to peel, I guess that's not better, but it seems as though it is. The new skin isn't painful numb or nasty looking....so I guess it is

Day 5

2010-02-07T06:42:00.000-08:00

Garrett said to me today "Mommy what happened to your Chapstick? I think you need to use some, your lips look bad."

When I told him it had oil in it (a simplification, I know), he told that yucky and not to use it again....

I'm still numb and they are numb and look nasty, but I can only hope that I'm on the home stretch...

Day 3....

2010-02-05T17:07:00.000-08:00

My lips are starting to crack, and more importantly are starting to look bad. I feel as though my bottom lip is swollen, but I'm not sure if it's true or just feels that way. The good news is that the burning sensation is gone now; and replaced by numbness. The skin feels very tight, like if I were to smile too big (and I just may with the thought of being able to sleep past 5 what with the weekend and all), they would crack open. My bottom lip actually does have a small cut but it doesn't bother me that much. Now, instead of having an overwhelming desire to eat, I now dread it. I'm afraid to open my mouth even the slightest bit in fear of more cracking and most flavors irritate what is already cracked.I still have the cursed chapstick and was very tempted last night but didn't use it. But it's definitely better than it was 2 days ago. I was tempted to get stuff at the health food store but still am nauseated at the thought of eating the junk.

Day 1....

2010-02-03T16:37:00.000-08:00

No, I have'nt thrownaay my beloved chapstick, just not ready for that move yet. But neither have I touched. Just the thought that it's still there is somehow comforting...My lips feel extremely chapped and even inflamed, though they don't look as abnormal as they feel to me. I was even hesitant eating dinner because it felt as though my lips were going to split open. All day I kept thinking of how much they hurt, I just felt the need to munch (and I'm proud to say I mostly resisted!). Now I understand why smokers always gain weight when they quit. You just feel like you need something to take your mind off it, and food is the most tangible option most times. Who knew one would go through actual withdrawl from something like chapstick? Supposedly Chapstick stops your lips from producing its own moisturizers; I'm hoping my lips relearn it in record time cuz this hurts!

The reason behind it all...

2010-02-03T16:19:00.000-08:00

When I was home sick from work yesterday, I watched the Dr. Oz Show. One of the segments was about lip gloss/chapstick. Following is a link to the the website's corresponding article, it's "don't gloss over it:

http://http://www.doctoroz.com/videos/price-beauty?page=2#copy

So given the fact that I was completely grossed out by the 7 lbs. thing and the breast cancer thing; I have decided to give up the chapstick. I've heard that you become addicted to it, and I'm dreading withdrawl...

peanut blossoms

2009-12-09T13:56:00.000-08:00

G and I made peanut blossoms. He wasn't sure exactly what they were, unti the kisses went on top...

G: Oh! Grandma Molyneaux used to like these! I bet she can smell them from Heaven. Maybe we should sent some to her.

Me: How do we do that?

G: Put them in a box, take them to the post office and put on the box "to Grandma Molyneaux in Heaven"

what a sight!

2009-12-04T17:52:00.000-08:00

Sometimes God outdoes Himself....

This is our view, how awesome!!

haning out with the fam....

2009-12-04T17:27:00.000-08:00

One of the best things about our house is the big fields behind us to play in....

Zoey likes it too...

Wy was amused by the frolicking dogs, and wind....oh to be amused by everything....

There aren't very many days left before it's cold and icky but we had fun...

and when that does happen, we'll just get out the sleds!

missing Mom....

2009-11-25T14:55:00.000-08:00

This week has been a tough one for me. There are so many things that just would have made this week easier if I had been able to talk to her. We decided to do Thanksgiving festivites here, with Tim's folks, instead of going and doing the big family thing. Mostly, I realize, because I didn't think I could handle all that; it's just too much this year.

So I pulled out my box of recipes (now full because hers are in there too)....thought I'd make squash raised rolls, or "egg" rolls, as I called them for the majority of my childhood; but I didn't understand the recipe. Later that night, I cried. I told myself it was because I didn't know if I ever taste them again. Even as I tried to convince of this, I knew I was crying because she would never show me how. The loneliness through this preparation for tomorrow is stifling. I settled for plain rolls but apparently I needed her help in this too--but I'm hoping they can be salvaged.

It's not about the food I know that. I never really felt cheated after she died but now I feel as though there were still so many things I never did with her, or things she never showed. I'm feeling inadequate. Stupid things, like the infamous Beckwith raspberry pie that she didn't show me how to make; tend to make me very upset.

I drove home today in tears for no particular reason. I'd like to blame it on the stress of the week, but I know that's not it. I'm still waiting for the day when I can stop being so verklempt and not teary; still waiting...I know it's the season to be thankful, but I'm having a really hard time with it this year. I have so many things to be thankful--a wonderful husband, two great kids and many other things, but I'm really finding it all a little trite this year.

Garrett and the Crayola Facotry

2009-11-11T12:56:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, we took a roadtrip to Easton and took G to the Crayola Factory. Because money isn't something we have oodles of, and to teach him that one can't have everything, he was given the choice of the circus (which I was silently dreading taking Wy to) or the crayon factory. He chose the latter.

He's so subdued at places like this. So shy and quiet, it's hard to tell if he's having a good time. He may look like Tim, but he is so much like me! There was a clear plexi-glass wall with markers. I thought Garrett would love to "draw" on it. I took him over to the wall and I noticed, but didn't say anything to him, that there wasn't much room to write. He was very hesitant and told me he wasn't going to write on the wall because it was "bad". I told him I would do it first. His response, as he covered his eyes with his hands: "Momma don't do it! I can't even watch!!" Finally, Tim got him to try it, but even then he was upset because there were no "clean spots to draw on"; to which Tim rolled his eyes....but I completely understood his frustration!!

Then Tim took him into the "art room". I sat outside with Wy, looking at these kids coming out with finger paints on them and their parents and thought bad thoughts. Next thing I look in and G's coloring at a table. Tim said he didn't want to get dirty....good boy!!

Last stop was the area with sidewalk chalk. Unlike the other stops this one was deserted and G was the only one there. He was coloring and making "O's" and next thing I know he's cleaning up. He turns and says to me "this is a mess and they are going to break. I'll put them away, is that a good idea?

He really did have a good time. He hasn't stopped coloring since we got home. He's a good egg.

2009-11-10T05:55:00.001-08:00

I found the quilt!

my boys!!

2009-11-02T16:45:00.000-08:00

doggie day care

2009-10-13T03:21:00.000-07:00

We've opened a doggie day care, our rates can't be beat! Nah, Dad's just away for a few days so Cop is on vacay!

2 spoiled dogs

2009-10-11T16:03:00.000-07:00

Samson was always trying to lay on our papazon cushion, so we broke down and got him his own pillow, but of course we couldn't get just one.

looking pretty

2009-09-25T16:52:00.000-07:00

I printed this picture out to put on our living room wall (my latest project is to cover the wall with random family photos) but it never made it onto the wall, because G begged to have the picture in his room....last night when I tucked him in....

G: was Grandma sick in this picture?

Me: yes she was.

G: hmm, I think she looks pretty, not sick.

Me: yes she does look pretty.

G: I wish we could go back to that day, it looks like I was having fun. I think Grandma was too, she looks happy.

Me too G.....

Secret Plot Revealed

2009-09-13T15:36:00.000-07:00

I was down at Dad's yesterday, and he told me that he found some Christmas presents tucked away that Mom had gotten for this coming year. He seemed incredulous that she would buy so far in advance. I wasn't that surprised; after all, Mom and I used to go out shopping the day after Christmas. She would pick out her colors for the following year (I think this yr was supposed to be green and gold), and inevitably she would find "deals that would be perfect for so and so for next year". It reminded of a certain hanging quilt that I never got. But before I tell you that story, I need to give some background....

Whenever Mom wanted something that she thought Dad would think unnecessary; she had a system. She would buy it, and I would take it home, and give it to her at the next occassion for presents. We did this often, once we each "gave" each other wind breakers that we had bought together; hers was pink, mine orange. I don't know if Dad ever knew, but he never let on. It was just one of "our things".

And so it happened that we went to the big craft fair at the high school, like we had done for years. This time she was a quilter, and was very excited to see one of the vendors was a couple that owned a quilt shop, but they were going out of business. They had all kinds of fabrics but they also had bedspreads and actual quilts. I liked one of the quilts, it was a hanging quilt. She told me she would get it for me for Christmas. She liked one of the bedspreads, but was afraid Dad wouldn't want a new one, since the green one on her bed was fairly new. So she devised a plan; she would get both, but I would take the bedspread and give it to her for Christmas. Dad wouldn't tell me they didn't need one if it was a gift; she said. So that's what we did, when I dropped her off, she took the hanging blanket, and I took her newly purchased bedspread.

A few days later she called me. "Do you like that bedspread that you are giving me for Christmas?" Umm, yeah....She had prepping Dad, warming him up to the idea of a new bedspread. Wouldn't a quilted one be nice? Then Dad threw a wrench into the plan; he said that'd be great; but he'd only want a quilted one if she made it. Hence the bedspread became my Christmas present. She told me that since I was getting the bedspread, and I didn't have my house yet; she was going to hold on to the hanging quilt so that Dad wouldn't be suspicious. And she told me that she took the quilt out and the edging wasn't as good as she could have done, and that would have bothered her in the end, but since I wasn't a quilter, it wouldn't bother me.

So at Christmastime, we got the bedspread. I did my best to act surprised and to take the time to inspect it, even though I had had it under my bed for some time. But I never did get the hanging quilt. From what I remember from last November, it would match the bedspread. I really need to do some serious searching of those upstair closets....As of yet, I don't think Dad has come across it; unless he has and is saving it for Christmas. Huh wouldn't that be funny?

this makes me smile for some odd reason....

2009-09-04T14:13:00.000-07:00

dreams

2009-09-03T16:02:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a dream, a lovely and simple dream. I dreamed that I was hanging out with Mom talking about whether I should order a mat for G or just buy it in the store (a real debate that I've been having with myself). Then my alarm went off and I got out of bed, thinking, "Hmm, why haven't I asked mom her opinion yet?" Then I walked downstairs, and I saw her jewelry chest staring me in the face and reality sunk in. She's gone, I can't have that simple conversation with her....hmm. If only I had been somewhat conscious during the dream; I would have savored it more.

Talking loud and missing Grandma

2009-08-31T18:38:00.000-07:00

G and I were out weeding tonight. He was being exceptionally loud so I asked him:

"G, why are you yelling?"

"I'm not yelling, I'm being loud so when Grandma looks down from heaven she can hear my jokes and laugh at them with us. I miss Grandma Molyneaux."

And just like that the conversation was over and he was on to something else....

hmm...heaven?

2009-08-29T16:57:00.000-07:00

I miss Mom, but as much as I long for her; I wouldn't necessarily wish that she were here. That sounds so strange and peculiar but there it is. Tonight on the way home, I heard a different kind of song about someone who passed away. Instead of talking of our grief, it is from the perspective of Heaven. It talks of how that person is "runs with the angels on streets made of gold...listen to stories of saints new and old..." The title of the song is called "wish you were here". I never thought of it that way. That while we are down here grieving losing her, she is up in Heaven, waiting for the day for us to arrive and show us around. It just makes me smile to think of her chatting up the likes of Corrie and the apostle Paul.

I still get sad at things that she will experience or see. For example, and this sounds absurd to put it into words, but I was very upset that she passed away before I was able to take Wy for his first professional photos. She was never able to hold, what I hope, will be beautiful portraits and oogle over her grandson. It sounds absurd not because she held the real baby but because I am so wrapped up in this temporal world that I still think a picture is going to be a comfort to her. The point is that she now walks with the Great Comforter. She needs no temporary comfort now, she is without pain and is in the presence of her God. I find that so hard to fathom. Many times throughout the day, I find myself wondering how one occupies their time in heaven. I know the Bible says we will worship, but again my finite mind takes over and I think "all the time?" But my mom knows now.

because we all need to laugh.....

2009-08-21T17:34:00.000-07:00

Mom's Memorial Service

2009-08-20T17:20:00.000-07:00

Judi Molyneaux Memorial Service from Tracy Robinson on Vimeo.

Sporting Mom's Jewelry

2009-08-18T18:32:00.000-07:00

Wyatt wearing some beads...

I tried to put on all the jewelry I was taking.... but it was getting mighty confusing. So I gave up and put the rest away.

The earrings were difficult to display since I only have a total of 4 holes.

A new trend......one pair, one ear...marvelous!!!

Can't quite say what Mom would have said but it would have made her smile.

Feel Better Gifts

2009-08-14T06:08:00.000-07:00

Garrett: "Mommy we should go check on your mommy" Garrett never got that Mom was also his beloved Grandma.

"G, my mom was Grandma"

"Oh Mommy I'm so sorry" he said as he put his hand on my leg.

"And Grandpa is my daddy"

"Grandpa must be very sad that he lost Grandma"(Lost is a very abstract concept for a 3 yr old, when all we've said is dead) "Tomorrow I will take Grandpa something special to make him feel better"

So after the burial, at lunch, Garrett gave Grandpa a piece of bubble gum. A very special piece of bubble gum.

more...

2009-08-12T17:11:00.001-07:00

"Garrett, tomorrow we are going to the cemtery to bury Grandma's body. But she's not there because she is already in Heaven with her Mommy and Daddy, and other friends and most importantly she's with God."

His eyes lit up "Are we going to Heaven tomorrow too?"

2009-08-11T16:42:00.000-07:00

Garrett: Grandma Molyneaux died today?

Me: Yes.

G: She was in the hospital?

Me: yup

G: do you think the doctor gave her a freezer pop before she died [to make her boo-boo better]?

Me: No they gave her grown up medicine.

G: Hmm, betchya it didn't taste like a freezer pop. Poor Grandma.

On my Mom....

2009-08-07T16:44:00.000-07:00

Growing up, I always joked with everyone that I was Mom's favorite. Maybe it was because I was her baby or maybe it was because I had been so sick as an infant. But for whatever the reason was, I was sheltered and protected. I remember once in college, calling to rant about some injustice and her offering to intercede on my behalf. She has even offered to do this as late as my current job. I don't think it was that she didn't think I was incapable of handling it on my own, but rather I was her baby no matter how old I was or how my own family was growing. I have long ago stopped accepting her even though she never stopped offering; but yet it was comforting on some level knowing she was always there for me.

I remember the day she told me she had cancer. Garrett was one, and I remember driving away in tears, terrified that without her I would not be able to be the kind of mom I had. There was so much I didn't know then, I had so many questions and she became a one of kind teacher. And through the process of one mother showing her daughter to be a mother; I found something more. I found quite quickly and easily that she had become my best friend. And so she was there, answering all my questions. For two years, even through all the chemo & the pain, she was there and she very much became the center of his universe.

At Christmas time when she told us that despite all the different chemos the cancer still grew; I found myself incredulous and panicking a little. Incredulous that this could be happening when there was another baby on the way. How could she be taken without being able to love him as much as she did his older brother? Panicking because how would I ever deal with my own grief as well as Garrett and the new baby? Yet here we are, God has not failed us yet...

She was there with me in the room when both of the boys were born. When Garrett was born she was so strong! I remember her walking into my room, and thinking how great she looked for the middle of the night, she even had time to put eyeshadow on. She drove herslef down to the hospital in the middle of the night, and she never left my side for the entire 3 hours I labored. Wyatt's birth was completely different, this time we had to pick her up; yes in the middle of the night; (she wasn't driving anymore). She sat in a chair on one of the walls.. She was not there to hold my hand through every contraction, she slept through most of them. Only when I would cry out "mommy!" would she rouse herself to come hold my hand. Even as I yelled out for her to take away my pain, I was realizing how crazy that must have sounded to her. But that's what she had always been able to do in the past. Thoughts flooded my mind, thinking things like how could I ever survive labor without her there to soothe me the way only one's own mother can. It was tough on both of us, I had to be slightly more independant, and she was struggling with her own battles but I don't think either of us would have done it differently.

I struggle every day with unfairness of it all. I have two sons who she loved more than anything. One will only remember how sick she was and one will have no memory of her at all. I sometimes feel guilty about that, that somehow I have acted selfishly, but I know it's not true. A few days ago Garrett hurt his foot and the only thing I could think of was how to stop his pain.
It made my heart ache, thinking of how she must feel seeing in this kind of pain, but unable for one of the first times, to help us through it. I sat there in her room, feeling so alone, wanting to tell someone my feelings and I realized that it was Mom I wanted. Today as I kissed her, for I believe the last time, I laughed a little to myself that she still had a bit of eyeshadow on her eyes. The morning 3 weeks ago when she had gone into the hospital, she must have put on her eyeshadow one last time, "I don't go anywhere without it" she would say. No, Mom you don't and it's still there. Everything's as it should be.

With Hope

2009-08-07T16:09:00.000-07:00

This is not at all how
We thought it was supposed to be
We had so many plans for you
We had so many dreams
And now you've gone away
And left us with the memories of your smile
And nothing we can say
And nothing we can do
Can take away the pain
The pain of losing you, but ...

We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope '
Cause we know our goodbye is not the end,
And we can grieve with hope
'Cause we believe with hope
(There's a place by God's grace)
There's a place where we'll see your face again
We'll see your face again

And never have I known
Anything so hard to understand
And never have I questioned more
The wisdom of God's plan
But through the cloud of tears
I see the Father's smile and say well done
And I imagine you
Where you wanted most to be
Seeing all your dreams come true
'Cause now you're home
And now you're free, and ...

We have this hope as an anchor
'Cause we believe that everything God promised us is true, so ...
We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope

*Steven Curtis Chapman

The Cirque

2009-07-30T16:03:00.000-07:00

Sunday nite Tim and I went to see the cirque de soliel. Originally, Tami and I were going to, but then Mom found out, and I got her a ticket as well. Of course, this was all before the bottom droped out from under us nearly 2 weeks ago. In the end, Mom was hooked up to an IV, literally fighting for her life; and Tami wasn't in the mood to go. It was a melancholy night to be sure. It was fascinating to be sure, but I couldn't help but think how much life has changed since the tickets were bought. I couldn't help but to think how Mom would have loved that show; she had always wanted to see them, and she was so excited when I told her I got her a ticket...There were so many times I wanted to turn to her and say "we could do that" knowing full well that would be as far as it ever was to go. She always told me she wanted to be in the circus, and now as I sat there and watched the show thinking of her now; I realized it would have suited her to a T. The extreme hulla-hooper may have even brought tears to my eyes, she used to be incredulous that I couldn't do it, but she was so good at it. And the strangest thing about my sadness was that Mom was lying in her bed in the hospice unit much stronger than she had been in days past...

I've come to believe that faith makes the grieving process complicated; at least for those who are without it looking in, some tell me I'm in denial, others don't know what to make of me. "We do not mourn as those who have no hope" never really made sense until now. I really can't imagine going through all this, without that faith that sustains me day after day. I was talking to a woman who just recently lost her husband, she isn't a believer. She had no hope at all. It was the saddest thing to hear her say things like "it just breaks my heart that I'll never see him again". Wow that would be devastating indeed!! Those days when I'm inconsolable and I'm dreading that final day where I will have to say goodbye for good; sometimes the only comfort I can muster is knowing I will see her again and she will finally be pain free. I'm looking forward to that day!