"I can hear..."

At this time 3 years ago my "hero husband" was standing (or sitting) guard over my mom during her last night here on earth. It's something I will never forget and it's probably something he will never fully understand my gratitude for.

I can remember that my dad, Margaret and I were so overcome with exhaustion but didn't want to go to bed. I can remember being curled up on the couch and my whole body crawling with that feeling of I NEED SLEEP!! Danny volunteered to sit with her while we got a few hours of sleep. Cindy had told him everything he needed to look for and that he was to text her the second things started to change.

I remember being woken up, seeing his face and knowing what it meant. I immediately went out to the living room to crawl into bed with her for the final time.

We woke up my dad and Margaret, and Cindy was there by that time.

...

I can't get these memories out of my head tonight (well, this morning) no matter how hard I try. On one hand I want to so that I can sleep. But on the other hand I don't want to because it takes me back to a time when she was still here with us, even if it was just barely.

I can hear all the music:

The Getty's (which is the soundtrack of those 5 Hospice weeks as a whole)
Elvis Presley
Leslie Gore's "It's My Party" (her favorite song)
Countless hymns
"O Crimson Flow" (which I still can hardly listen to)
And of course the video for "Dance Your Shoes Off"

I can hear the oxygen machine.

I can hear the altered breathing.

I can hear the laughter.

I can hear the saddness.

I can hear the fear.

I can hear the tears coming to the surface in my own body, but not being able to release them.

I can hear her breath slowing.

I can hear God whispering to my heart, "she's with me now."

I can hear her breath stopping.

I can hear the cries of the people who loved her the most in this world.

I can hear the news that her prayers were answered: she didn't die in the dark. The sun had officially risen.

I can hear the birds singing, which was one of her favorite sounds.

I can hear my heart breaking and the tears finally flowing because I had just lost my very best friend.


...


Even though I can still hear those things (especially on nights like this), I can also imagine her with the One she loved more than anything and the One she lived her life for. And truthfully, although it's hard at times, that fact makes up for all those other things I can still hear.

I can also hear that same One urging me into His word this morning to find comfort.

"...weeping may endure for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." 

Psalm 30:5b

"Not to us, O LORD, not to us but to your name be the glory, 

because of your love and faithfulness."

Psalm 115:1

"They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away."

Isaiah 35:10

A Mother's Fingerprints

While it’s pointless to say that a mother leaves her fingerprints on your life (whether for the good or for the bad), it is still true.

The last few days I have spent either sick myself or taking care of my sick daughter. In the moments of my sickness and pain all I wanted was to have my mama here to take care of me. I’m discovering that desire is never going to go away. But in those moments where I was taking care of Ansley all I could think was, “I hope I am caring for her the same way my mom cared for me.” She loved and cared for me in a way that showed me she loved me with her whole being, while still never crossing over that line to “child-worship”. We all knew who owned the biggest piece of her heart…and it wasn’t me, or my dad. It was Jesus. That may seem strange to some people, but it’s the way it should be and I never felt slighted for it. (although the fact that I never had to share her with siblings probably helped ;) ) That is how I want to love my kids. I want them to know how unbelievably grateful I am to God for giving them to me, but I want them to grow up loving God more than anything and that won’t happen if they don’t see that from me.

We’ve done a lot of hanging around the house because of this bug and it’s given me an overabundance of time to think as Mother’s Day approached. I’ll be honest: if it wasn’t for Ansley and Zach I would just skip this day altogether. I know this day is hard for many different people for many different reasons. This is my 3^rd Mother’s Day without her, but it feels just as painful as the first. There is just a gaping hole that no one can fill. I’m not asking for pity, believe me. I sometimes feel guilty for how upset I still can get. It’s just that in some ways this day really sucks.

Ok, here’s the backstory on the whole point of this post:

A cupole or so before my mom died I was working on a house project. I was converting our office to a playroom. Normally my mom and I did these projects together, but she was just too sick by this point to help. So my dad and I did this one together while my mom slept in my bed. (that is still a picture that is seared into my brain) At one point she got out of bed, came in to check on us and for whatever reason just touched the paint to see if it was dry. I don’t think I can explain why, but her doing that was just so “her”.

Well those fingerprints on my wall became very special to me. I never had any desire to cover them up. It was her addition to our project and it was just perfect.

A couple months ago Danny started a new job where he was going to work from home. That meant the playroom needed to be converted back into an office. I’m not exaggerating when I say I sobbed when thinking about covering up my stripes and especially her fingerprints. (The whole project itself had special Spiritual significance to me - if you want to read about it you can here: http://furnaceofaffliction.blogspot.com/2011/08/parable-of-playroom.html )

Danny told me he had a plan though…and today he gave me the perfect Mother’s Day gift. (It's kinda hard to see them, but I think you'll get the idea) Danny also has a way with words, just like my mom did. 

While I am so glad that I have these fingerprints, I am even more glad to see how her fingerprints on my life have helped shape the person I am becoming. Thank you God for that woman. I can't wait to see you both.