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.