Lamby

When my mom was sick, someone had given her a stuffed healing lamb. Mom used to sit on the couch with it, sleep with it, everything. So when my mom's best friend Susan was diagnosed with cancer, mom ended up giving Susan her healing lamb. A while later, Susan bought her a replacement, also known as "Lamby."

When mom passed we set Lamby up on her casket. I even told the people from the funeral home that the lamb could rest with mom. Somehow, it ended up in the bottom of the bag with some other keepsakes and belongings we received after the burial. What a gift- mom must have know that "Lamby" would soon have another calling in life.

I hid Lamby for a while because I didn't want it getting lost or destroyed by one of the kids.... and it smelled just like mom. There were several times that I would smell it and then burst into tears. The memory of smell is so amazing.

One day I was holding Leila and I went into my closet to get something from my supplies and Leila spotted Lamby and just about jumped out of my arms in excitement- as if Lamby were a long-lost friend- she kicked and laughed and grabbed for her. What was I to do? I could see how happy she was and so I gave it to her. She grabbed it and held it and rubbed her face on it and wouldn't let it go. It was so adorable and strange- she had never acted like that before towards any of the other hundreds of stuffies we have.

Now she doesn't go anywhere without it. She eats with it (unfortunately, notice the cheerios):

and sleeps with it and crawls with it and has to have it in the car... and library... and store. She even ended up accidentally throwing it in the trash yesterday. I was so thankful I had just changed the bag!  I looked online for a back-up yesterday just in case it ever comes up missing.

Part of my sadness and grief has always been that my girls wouldn't get to know my mom. How beautiful it is that in little and big ways she remains in our lives and how a little stuffed lamb that brought her comfort so many times is now doing the same for her granddaughter.

God, did you plan this? Man, you are good!

A God-cation?

I had every intention of writing about this a couple of weeks ago after I actually experienced it. I guess it took me some time to process it.

If you have read some of my other posts, you probably get what has been going on in my life over the past 6 months. Hands down, it has been the most challenging I have ever experienced to this point. It's all relative, I guess. I have felt deep, deep sadness and grief over the loss of my mom. I have felt depression, despair, heartbreak, overwhelmed, anxiety, confusion and so much more. I have felt happiness and joy but only in little spurts that don't stay very long. Everyday has been a clear opportunity to draw near to God and stay put in His presence. It truly has been my refuge during this time.

Two weeks ago I had a beautiful opportunity to take a vacation without leaving the farm, if you know what I mean. It is very hard to explain and some reading this will think I am a little coo-coo. But I am not. I believe that God gave me a vacation from life for a whole week without ever leaving my home or town. Let me explain.

I woke up on Monday and just felt really good and calm. For the whole week I felt this way- a very odd feeling for me. On Monday night I had the dream that I shared in a different post about my mom playing with my girls. On Tuesday morning I woke up with a heart full and overflowing with thankfulness and joy for God and the gift that He gave me through that dream. All week long I was super-patient with my girls (sorry, I would love to say that I am a beacon of light for my children at all times but....) and when Jamie and I weren't exactly on the same page with things, it just rolled right off and didn't phase me. I just had a very extraordinarily positive view about....well, everything. I spent time with friends just living in the moment. I took a meal to a friend who just had a baby. It was awesome. When things kind of went back to normal the following week, what had happened the week before became very obvious and stunning. It was a God-thing.

I deserve nothing. I haven't been mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend or anything else, of-the-year. This has been a very needy and humbling season in my life. For God to display His mercy on me in a way that freed me from my everyday burdens without actually taking me out of my everyday- wow! Really, amazing. I could cry just talking about it. I am nothing but God, my creator, believes I am something. He took time out of His busy schedule to carry me for a week.

My heart pours out right now as I share about this week that I had. The God that we have is one of love and personal relationships. He cares about our little stuff. And our big stuff. He knows this life is tough and that is why He offers peace that we can't possibly understand.

Amen!

Sweet dreams

For as long as I can remember I have had vivid dreams. I remember dreams I had from way back when I was a child. I wanted to share the dream I had from the other night.

I had a rough night of sleep as both the girls were up at least once a piece. Before waking I had this dream:

It was very bright. Like it was sunny. I guess it was sunny, and my mom was there dressed in some of her favorite summer clothes: a pair of sweat shorts and a pink tank top. So typical. Mom was still older but she was perfect- there was no sense that anything was wrong. In every other dream that I have had about her since she passed I have always known at some point in the dream that she wasn't supposed to be there because she was gone. I remember that my daughter Leila was crawling around my house and climbing up on the couch and jumping off into my mom's arms. She was doing that over and over and they were having a great time. Sofia was there too and they were all playing together. At the end of the dream my mom was taking the girls down the street for a walk in the wagon.

I woke up in tears. What a beautiful gift I was given through this dream. In the dream, like I was saying, I never felt this underlying dread, of loss. I felt whole again. Overjoyed. Content. Like everything was right.

God knows my heart and He knows that the sadness I still have is more for my children than for myself. The desire of my heart is that I would see my mom and my girls to play together. I have now. Until we all meet again, I will take it. I feel so blessed.

I still miss her so much. 

Feeling a little loser-y

It's Monday, and the start of a new week. I am taking advantage of some "me" time although I am guilt-ridden that I should be sleeping. I am watching Julie & Julia with Amy Adams and Meryl Streep and it is pretty good. Feel-good.

I am feeling like kind of a loser right now for some reason. I just have an all-over yuck feeling about a lot of stuff. This weekend we went out and got some new shelving units. This helped the house to look better but it still looks like a semi-disaster area. I am ready to throw my whole house in a metal trash can in the middle of my living room and set it on fire. I am so over stuff I can't tell you. I have so much stuff that I don't need and stuff that I don't know why I keep around and stuff that I know why I keep it around but I still shouldn't be keeping it. I have my own house to deal with and mom's place. Of course there are things from my mom's that I want to keep just because they remind me of her. While that is not a good reason, it is.

I feel aimless about what is next for me. There are things I want to write, sew, create, do with my children, my husband, my friends, movies I want to see, places I want to go. But somehow, each day comes and goes in the same way. I want to do something impactful and inspirational and meaningful. I want to do something that makes my soul sing. I know that this is just a down-time and that soon, I will be on the up-swing again. I am longing for those days to arrive.

It is always hard to say was triggers these moods. I kind of feel like I want to crawl up with a blankie next to my husband and stay there for a while. It might have been church yesterday.

As I nursed my daughter in the prayer chapel at church on Sunday, I read the "praise quilt" where people post things they are thankful for on little scraps of fabric. I saw one that looked familiar. I got up, unrolled the fabric and read "Thank God for my cancer, I realize how great our God is. Judy P." If you don't know, Judy is my mother who passed away from ovarian cancer in December. I didn't even make it through the message before I started to cry my eyes out. I guess I just feel sad, very sad. I miss her so much. I am hurt for so many reasons I don't know where to start. Mom was too young to die. I am too young to be without any parents. My children are going to miss out on grandma Judy. I hate that she suffered. I hate that I couldn't stop it or take it away. This process that damaged me so deeply I feel irreparable. Will it ever end? Or do I fear more the day that I think of mom and my eyes don't well up?  Some days it is more than I can take. 

What got me the most about mom's note on the praise quilt was that she was doing exactly what she was supposed to do. She was thanking God for something that brought her closer to Him. It is beautiful and tragic that she is still teaching me even in her death.

Despite all of this, I am hopeful. If only just a little. Now I am going to dry my eyes, blow my nose and sleep until the baby hears me get into bed and get comfortable.