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 3rd 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.
