The Dark Night

This is it, God, isn't it? The dark night of the soul where everything I have leaned on is wrenched away until all I have is naked trust. I am terrified. Of what? Of pain for me or of displeasing You? O God, I hope it is fear of displeasing you but I am far less noble than that. I am wallowing in my own filth and sorrow. I am afraid of the hatred in my heart and of being disqualified from Your kingdom and of losing some things I love dearly. If you need to take them, then do. If it means I can know You more-take my church, my friends, even my family, if it will bring me closer to you. Desperate-that is what I was in my closet last night when I was faced with my epic failure to love.....and the victory Satan was having at that moment. All I could do was cry "help me, God", over and over and over. This is a dark night. But I know joy comes in the morning. I think I am also afraid of the night being too long.

Better

Dear Mom-I dreamed about you again the other night. They are so vivid, these dreams. I was in the bathroom and we were getting you ready for bed-you were in the bedroom and all of a sudden you were all over the place-flopping around, standing, walking, it was crazy. I was so afraid you would fall-your mind was still not good but your body was its old self. You were not healed, but better. Then it flashed to outdoors, a tree, you walking, holding onto Jeff's arm-then he turned into dad-but you walking, stiffly, unevenly, but walking nonetheless. You had a nice pants suit on like you used to wear-and you were not healed, but better. I think part of the grief of this disease is that here on this earth, you will never be better. Some days are better than others but it is always a downhill slide and I hate that. You get better-my hope soars-my hear rises-then I remember that it will not last. I have to remind myself to adjust my focus-to look ahead to heaven-where you will be, not better, but HEALED.

Just One More

Every day I get to talk to you is one more....one more time I get to hear your voice, to have you say "love you, honey", to recognize who I am, to listen to stories about my day....one more. That is all I want every day.

Houses and Life

We are settled into our house in San Angelo, yet not settled at all-not our hearts. I can't help comparing this house to our house in Austin but it is not a fair comparison. A house is not a building, it is a lifetime and Austin was a different lifetime-our house in Austin housed my growing children-our homeschool times together, Catalis, our boat, ODA and BSF and Awana and church, Mother-Daughter bake days, Ballet and Choir-all the things that are no more. I can't duplicate it here-don't even want to. It is yet to be seen what this house will contain-it will be different-one child is gone, another much older. We still do school but not in the same way-we have different activities, different lives, it will be filled with different people. I have to tell myself it is not better or worse, just different. But Austin house will always hold a special place in my heart-it is where my kids grew up-where we made memories by the bucketload-every day-as fast as we could and now they are spilling over in my mind like a flood.

Time

Dear Mom- Looking back at Christmas pictures from just one year ago and realizing how much can change in one short year. Last year you were standing, walking, playing Wii, smiling, interracting. You looked happy, enjoying your family. This year what a difference. You can't walk, can't feed yourself, don't communicate much. We will never again have Christmas in the basement-you can't get down there anymore. You still smile sometimes, occasionally laugh but many days don't track at all. What in the world happened in one short year? One year ago you were in the hospital for a broken hip-that was the beginning of the end. At least a couple of strokes sneaked in and stole parts of you during that time and the recovery time and the time beyond. You are still there-but a shell. This year seems like just a day. And yesterday you were still you.