Wednesday, November 18, 2020

14 years now since you haven't had a birthday song

 Awake, and when it comes---I know to come write.  It is time to get all the words off my heart.  I have been trying hard to not get drug under the water with my sorrow...to stay afloat in the life I am trying to live...it seems to swirl in me and then more and more memories come and they begin to weigh my heart down and I fear to go with them into the depths of sorrow.  I fight to live well, awake, in love with my life, my art, my love.  So much to still live for.  Then there is the horror of the whole ordeal of you dying and being gone.  You brought such life and laughter and fullness--everytime you walked into the room.  You didn't know how to make a quiet entrance--it was as if you came into the moment with the sunshine.  There truly was no one like you.  I think back to the thousands of memories that only you and I knew about---the years of when it was just you and me.  It was hard when your dad left us and we began to make our own life, but we did.  And you grew up--and we had so much fun, even in the days that were just regular days.  We traveled and did things to bring more color to an ordinary growing up.  

I am so glad we made the choices to do things as you were gone so young, with so much left---that is the part that is so hard to not go there--so many things I knew you were looking forward to, memories to make, children to have...a career to fulfill...dreams and schemes...a franklin planner full of dates to fulfil with your friends, family, me and with Chris.  

So, here I am again, November 19, 2020...3:27 p.m.  42 years later.  I was waiting and probably couldn't sleep tonight all those years ago---uncomfortable with the weight of you in my belly...waiting to take your first of many breaths.  A parent should never bury their child...so many lines stated in movies...and it is true, but in my life, it has happened.  Rick never got to know you--and you would have loved him so much and he would have loved you too.  There is an emptiness in us that is missed.  But it is what it is and again, this date is right here before me...  It isn't  your death day, which is hard to even breath through since it just is....but it would be your birthday and you loved that day---you loved being celebrated-and you always loved celebrating the birthday's of those you loved...so on your birthday--why wouldn't it be all about you.  

Too many words to not type or say--too many detours to avoid to keep sane...too many places I almost see you and hear you. 

I know...you are safe in heaven and more glorious than I can even ever imagine...and that is a comfort...sometimes...and sometimes, not enough to hold me upright.  Tonight...I teeter on the edge of that fine line...

I'm glad I had all the minutes and days and years.  So, that is what I will celebrate again...what was given, as that is all you get...and again...the reminder to stay present, not in a bad way, but embracing what you have right now....I don't want to sound morbid or that I live in a way of waiting for the other shoe to drop...I did for quite sometime, but not now---I live well with full heart.  I stay away from these words I'm putting on this page...it is to hard to write more than once or twice a year.  I am wise with the use of them...it would drain me...leave me empty.  I feel the angel holding my shoulders and keeping me upright...saying, "don't stay too long here...leave these words here and live"

So, I loved it all Sarah...every moment.  even hard times...you were quite a handful at times...I don't think you knew you tested my last nerve as much as you did.  I knew you were a firecracker...and so full.  But, how proud I was of how you faced the sadness and sorrow of your dad leaving and him dying so young...and the other things too hard for your heart...you faced much and overcame and lived with a brightness many of us so loved and now miss.  

you loved to be sung to---even as a young child,  you had 5 songs...and if I didn't sing them all at bedtime, you would laughingly and in a knowing that was too young to know that this might someday be true---you would say to me, "mom, if I die, you will be so sad you didn't sing them all to me."  Wish I could sing to you again sweet Sarah C.  Miss you so.  I hope you somehow can know how much we all love you and miss you.  

mom

Thursday, September 24, 2020

Nights are hard





 Just can't sleep. My mind goes where it wants, even as I try to be careful. Memories of these last days before you died... Thinking how fully you were living, how happy you both were, in Paris, in Lake Como... Last fling before you started your family.... So full. You lived backpacking. The 2 of you were so excited to go, to step away and you could show him how to do this. I love that Chris flew to Spain to see you in the fulness of your travels and finds love together. This trip was to be your trip. We were to see you in Rome and Venice... Missing your train in Paris by 1 minute made it all change... But, I do know the Father had your last day in his plan... This was not a mistake, yet it can drive my mind crazy at times...

These nights after you died were the worst... Long hours till dawn... I remember these hours on nights like tonight. I miss Harry, he always stayed next to me. He somehow knew. Rick would come out and be by me if I asked, but even he knows I need to just write. 

Does it help? At least words get out of my head. Too many thoughts and replays... Over and over... Nearer the day now of your death. Chris is in it too... Holding on. Trying to stay from the wave. That wave....

Smellls and sounds from that land. So much kindness, so much sorrow. The church is probably remenbering her... So touches me... Wish I could be there, then I wouldn't have to imagine it, I'd be present, I'd smell the air. Somehow it would be a comfort. I am too far away... No place to go... Hard. 

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

13 years, 2020

 

I remember on this day, how very small you came to me...you just looked a bit chinese in your eyes.  Such small and soft fingers.  You already had a fierce grip, on me, on life.  I was amazed to have birthed you and knew what a gift I had been given.  I really never thought I would have a child, so I was in such wonder.  I am smiling as I write this as memories of those early days swirl by my mind.  I knew I had been blessed to have a child as I knew too many who never got to have one of there own.  I just was telling Shari about the day you were dedicated to the Lord, I lifted you up with both my hands and could almost hear the Lord say, "She isn't yours" and I released my fingers from my hold and just let you lie in both the palms of my hands.  Never were you mine...you never were anyone's but your own and the Lord's.  That did help me to know you were His when you left this earthly home to go to His.  Short life-28 years, but that is what you were given. 



This is where I am in spirit today--at this memorial...I am here and will be in my heart as we walk these days till the 27th....then pack up our hearts to live another year---if given that gift.  Year after year, I make a heart pilgrimage to this land so far away.  Manarola, It is hard to have this land so far away....sometimes that ache of not being there right now is too much.  I can smell the sea air, I hear the waves...I sense you there, yet know that is wild and can be too much.  The flowers in my heart are there to leave with so much love...I think Paula will bring some for you...she often does.  That means so much to me.  Franco even wrote this morning of "un abbraccio".  Made me cry.  


So many of us who have lost, each with our own suitcases--carrying them in our heart--sometimes all the content gets spilled out on "remembering days", or days we just were not expecting.  I feel I've journeyed long now with this suitcase of my own, and sometimes, I have to empty some and leave it as the load gets to heavy and I'm getting too old to carry too much.  I know others who are just getting their first suitcase and learning how to pack it, and how to carry it...just is such a journey.  so hard...so much to learn...



You are such a joy, a beauty--still loved by so many, my sweet girl.  So many who knew you and were inspired by your freedom and fierceness and joy.  We all so miss you and can hear your laugh...when we listen. Thank you.  


This is the view from your memorial site...so calm, so beautiful...so hard. A photo send to me by someone who visited your memorial.


You left us when so young...so much ahead.  So full when that last step took you home.  In fullness of life, gone.  That is a place of where my mind must not wander.  We must release you to the fullness of the Kingdom and the fullness of that eternal home with hope of more than we can ever imagine.  I fix my eyes on this hope.  I live it every day.  I walk forward.  I have learned to be careful to not linger in places of getting lost in this.  I will run when it is my time, into this land.  Laughing and grateful.


This life each of us has been given is a gift.  Each day, each moment is a gift from Papa.  He knows and is present and helps.  I lean into Him for my breath.  I press on.  I hope in Him.  I love this precious gift I've been given.  My tears are held by him and kept by Him and are precious to Him.



A gift made for Sarah by friends.  A tribute to her life.  True words.  Blessed this momma.  Just think...it could have been that maybe no one ever liked her---but so untrue.  She was loved deeply, by so many.  Remembered well by many.  This 27th, there will be many toasts and tears again, as we stop and remember.  Then each of us will again pack up our tender thoughts and memories, wrap them in tender clothes full of tears and walk on...holding them close as we live well.  

13...long time.

Sunday, March 01, 2020

am still learning and seeing with the eyes you give me to see....12 1/2 years later....


I was given this picture of the older man carrying a girl and pointing...right after Sarah died by my dear friend Peggy Wheeler...she said it is from a children's book...can't remember right now which one...but it spoke to her of Sarah and God carrying her....to heaven. At the time, it deeply blessed and ministered to my broken momma's heart...

Then, at Sarah's ceremony 7 months after she died, the President of the Cinque Terre--Franco Bonanini, had this painting of her commissioned by Silvio Benedetto,  It is a stunning painting that he did--he did this from her last photo which Christopher took before she was taken into the sea by the wave. 

At the celemony to honor her, Silvio described--of course in Italian, why he changed the colors from the original picture, to reflect what he had heard of Sarah's romantic nature...it has hung in my home since the moment he said "la mamma" and handed it to me in July 2008.

This morning during my quiet sabbath morning...I was listening to the worship song "Oceans", by Hillsong...a song which blesses me and causes me to cry so.. as I was listening and looking at this painting, I became aware, for the first time of an eye near the bottom of the painting...and I was stunned and it deeply caught my breath.  I stayed in this for a long time...and then remembered this other picture given to me...the eye seemed so familiar...I had put this picture in my treasure box Rick had given me on our 1st Christmas after we married in 2008.  I hold many treasures in there...many of Sarah's last things and gifts.

As I found it and held it to the painting...more tears than words came...yes...a great similarity...2 different artists, but they captured an eye...the eye of God?  Yes to my soul....and a comfort to this momma...

I shared this with Rick and then he saw a set of another eyes above this single eye---seeming to be looking upward...was this her angel, another part of the trinity?  Both of us deeply touched today...many tears...just amazed...grateful for our hope in heaven.  Our Poppa who continues to reveal and be on the move. 

I am sore in my momma's heart...so many tears still, seems there is no end...but I know she is good...and home.  and someday, so will we both be...and until then, hoping and believing.