the 24th of january, on a thursday....
it was rosalea’s 9th birthday.
my cell phone rang while i was in my car waiting to pick up carpool from an after school activity. i had two boys to pick up and take home. one was my son and one was a neighbor. rosie was with me in the car.
when i saw on called i.d. that it was mom and dad’s house, i knew that it was mom calling to sing “happy birthday to you” to rosie.
it was mom and dad’s sweet neighbor, allison, who was calling to tell me that dad had called an ambulance for mom because he thought she had a stroke.
i think i knew then that it wasn’t going to turn out well. i had a sense of something final with that phone call.
i took the carpool home. i called sarah greene to see if she could come and watch the kids. i called adam. i went home, met millie’s bus and left her in charge until sarah or adam came to the house.
i left the house and i didn’t really come back home for 12 days. i was at the hospital or hospice for most of the time the next two weeks.
6 months... i shouldn’t go to my dad’s house (like i did last night), sit and talk with him, take some fresh peaches from him (like i did last night), leave and get in my car and think things like, “hmmm, i never saw mom, i wonder where she was tonight?” i did that last night. i do that every now and then. i am really not a smart girl.
i should be more aware that she has gone on to a bigger and better address but there are still those times when i go by the house and see dad and i don’t see her and i think that she must have been in the back of the house, or at the store. and then i remember that she isn’t there anymore. it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but it still catches me by surprise every now and then and it is fresh.
i am having lunch with my dad today. we have lunch once a month or so. i didn’t think about what day it was when we made the lunch plans. but today i woke up and i just knew it had been 6 months. i looked at my watch and saw the big 24 for the date and that just confirmed what i knew instinctively.
it still seem so surreal, so like an episode of some television drama (perhaps that means i watch too much t.v.). mourning is a process. it is long, it is an uphill climb, and i don’t think i am at the top yet. but i am still climbing.
thank you to all who have thrown me a rope as a climb, given me something to hold on to. you make climbing easier. and you bring snacks.
a special thank you to tina, who asked me yesterday how i was doing with the process (and reads my blog, isn’t she amazing?). tina is so good to ask in such a wonderfully sweet voice and i know she so deeply cares. i am officially adopting her into my family (even before we make our kids all marry each other).
6 months ago my mother had a stroke. 6 months ago i learned what the word friend really means. it has been a season of living with a death, and a season of living with a purpose, a season of friendship and family, a season of loving others because that is what matters in every season... thank you all for being there for THIS season and for the reasons that you give me to rejoice in all things.
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.