My mother's daughter

One of the greatest joys of my adult life is getting to spend every Saturday morning watching my momma sing. Yes, watching. It was something I didn't really appreciate as a little girl, and certainly not as a rotten teenager. I didn't understand when people would come up to her after church & tell her they loved watching her sing but now, I see it. The words that come out of her mouth don't simply resonate from her vocal chords but from every fiber of her being.
After two not so great days for grandma, there are a few things we've had to accept that tend to leave us with heavier hearts & longer faces. I had a conversation with my children this afternoon, with age appropriate information coupled with a plea for their help at home & the cry of my heart leaking through the surface. "I wish that we could remind time & catch grandma from falling. Oh how I wish that I could spare you guys from this pain." But pain is a part of life. It is, as C.S. Lewis' stepson reminded me in his intro to A Grief Observed, the part of life that reminds us what the cost of love really is. In this life, without pain, there is no true love.
As momma & I sat on grandma's couch this evening, we could hear the TV in her room. We had been talking when momma just stopped. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, escaping through her tightly shut eyelids. Then, as I do every Saturday morning, I watched her begin to sing.

No guilt in life, no fear in death.
This is the power of Christ in me.
From life's first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from his hand.
My Comforter, my All in All,
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.

She opened her eyes. I had choked back the tears when she began talking, "I wish that I could take this pain from you guys. But (she began crying harder) I just can't." With tears streaming down my face, I looked at this amazing woman that God gave me, of all people, and was once again reminded of the gift that she not only is, but that she continues to give in the middle of her own grief. I put my hand on hers, "But momma, you're not supposed to."
So many memories & emotions came crashing down on me as I remembered the morning that Papaw died. We were supposed to go see him the night before but momma was so tired, so exhausted. I remember hearing the phone ring & knowing exactly what it meant. I remember stepping out my bedroom door to be met by my mother, who had just suffered the greatest loss of her life, in tears, begging me not to hate her. Begging me to forgive her for not going the night before. Here she was completely broken and yet still worried about saving me from pain.
I've never held that against her. Even as a selfish, self-centered 15yrs old, I just wanted my momma not to hurt but I couldn't stop her pain either. I can't now, even though I want to again. 
I guess I'm a little more like my momma than I give myself credit sometimes. I've often told people that she's like a little Jesus with skin on & that if I could even be a tenth of the woman that she is, I would be ok. As I sat there tonight with her, I realized that I am my mother's daughter. I wish more than anything that I could carry this load for her. I wish that I could take her pain away & tell her that it's going to be alright. But the truth is, I can't take her pain away anymore than she can take mine. Things aren't going to be all right, but they'll be exactly what God has for us. The same God that brought us to this place will stay here with us until he moves with us onward.
So as the days seemingly creep by too quickly, we will continue this dance. We will continue to look to our Comforter, our All in All. Because HERE in the power of Christ is where we will stand, hurting as deeply as we love, singing our hearts' cry.

Memories born in the unexpected moments

Before I begin, I feel the need to apologize. My writings as of late have been very emotional, very raw & probably very difficult to read. Thank you for taking the time to read them. I thought my blogs would help me prepare. I thought sharing my feelings & lessons gleamed from the day would somehow make it easier to say goodbye. That simply is not the case.
Today, the kids & I, along with my cousin & her kiddos, visited our other grandma. Yes, we share two grandmas. Momma & my aunt are sisters that married brothers. That fact might help to clarify the closeness of our family.
We had a wonderful visit! The kids played games & we talked. The kids visited with us a little but they also played together. We shared a couple of pizzas & some sodas. But as time crept closer to football practice, I found myself not wanting to leave.
Grandma P is also dealing with some significant health issues. Drs visits, tests & more tests on the horizon have us all a little uneasy. Gone are the days of a simple bandaid on a scraped knee with a tight hug to make the world seem right again. This is the downhill side of life although right now it seems more like a cruel slip & slide.
As I write, as I blog, there's generally a clarity I gain from the happenings of the day but that peace escapes me right now. You see, my sister (in law) has been on me to allow her to help with Grandma B's nightly routine. After three weeks of missing dinners with my family, I relented, though I didn't want to leave. I hung around & walked her through the menial tasks I do while momma is with grandma. She scowled at me a dozen or so times as I reached for this or that to help. When momma asked me to fill up the vaporizer, I told her I couldn't, that sister was in charge. I was only walking her through everything. (Sister is a hands on learner.)
Just as they were almost done, my kids called & needed me. They haven't called in three weeks & probably wouldn't have had sister not been there. I kissed grandma on the cheek & told her I'd see her tomorrow. I hugged sister & walked to the kitchen where momma was. When our eyes met, I could no longer hold back the tears. This was the feeling I've been dreading. This was the feeling of letting go. It wasn't that I feared they couldn't handle things. It wasn't that I didn't want to go home. It was that feeling again that I just didn't want to leave.
Momma called me after sister left & I wasn't much better. She told me that I'll never fully be ready to let go. No matter how much I talk myself up to it, no matter how much I loathe the pain & fatigue grandma feels every night, I will never be ready.
These moments, the ones that demand every emotional & physical fiber of my being at the end of a long day, they are the moments I will miss. I'm always treasure sharing pizza & washing grandma's styrofoam cups. But it wasn't until tonight that I realized how much I'll miss filling a stupid coffee pot or moving a heavy oxygen machine or laying a satin gown out on the bathroom counter or watching grandma's feet dance in her sleep. These are the moments that will forever a part of who I am. They will be my fondest of memories.

The summer that life appeared to stand still

It's funny how the longer circumstances linger, the more God will change our perspective if only we allow him to. This particular blog is one I've been mulling over pretty consistently for a couple of weeks. Now, I understand why. At first I thought the title "The summer that life stood still" would be what I'd go with but now that I'm actually writing it, my entire perspective has changed.
As you may know, my family compounds. There's the mom & dad compound in Willis with Jeff, grandma, & my family. We all live on conjoining properties - thank you Venezuelan family who moved at the exact time Brian & I were looking for a house! (Side note - The news today is that the one hold out family between us is looking to sell their house - yes, my wheels are turning! Lol.) Then there is the Conroe compound with my brother & sister (in law), her sister & family and their parents. They don't have conjoining properties but a couple of streets over still counts in my mind.
Compounding lends to a different kind of life. As my cousins can attest (they compounded with our grandparents growing up), there is a freedom that you don't understand unless you've been there & lived it. It goes far beyond "community" to truly living life together. All of it. The ups AND the downs.
Borrowing a cup of sugar or roll of toilet paper are pretty much daily occurrences. "My fence needs mending" or "my garbage disposal is causing the sink to overflow" are met with your own army of folks. I wouldn't trade this simple way of life for ANYTHING!
So when an emergency takes place on the compound, everybody is "two feet in". When grandma fell two weeks ago, I jumped in - filling in anywhere & everywhere momma & my aunts needed me to. This has led to a house that wouldn't pass any kind of health inspection, a pop-up camper still popped up in my front yard 4wks after vacation, laundry that's done on a need-to-wear basis, and meal making based on "what's that thing in the bottom of the freezer?"
Being a perfectionist by nature, I have struggled with not getting my stay at home mom tasks done. Admittedly a lot of it has been failure to focus when I am home or not wanting to begin something I know I won't have time to finish. For me, it appeared as though my life at home was standing still.
Today, I know that just isn't the case. LIFE hasn't stood still at all. LIFE has been going on around me whether I've caught the message or not. Today, I finally caught it.
Last night momma told me that her deepest desire through all of this is to touch eternity. So when it comes to touching eternity, will the cleanliness of my house really matter or will the care I give to grandma, my momma & my aunts? When it comes to eternity, will what we eat (or don't eat) for dinner matter? When it comes to eternity, do I want my children to model a momma who rushed about through tasks like a mad woman or one that was willing to let tasks go to simply love people?
This isn't the summer that life stood still at all. This is the summer that circumstances reminded me that I've been missing out on life all together. This is the summer that I get to touch eternity with both hands wide open.

Living an ordinary everyday, extraordinary life

It's funny how quickly we can fall into a routine. Two short weeks ago grandma fell on Monday then my brother was admitted into the hospital the following Monday with blood clots including a pulmonary embolism. I've felt, at times, like this is some kind of dream I'm living in that I can't wake up from. Other times I've relished the new routines themselves as a way to keep my mind busy so that I don't go crazy.
A part of my routine has been bedtime. No, not the one with the five people I live with, but grandma's. While momma was at the hospital with Jeff or eating her dinner or taking her bath, I get grandma's night clothes ready, put her vitamins out in her cup, empty the oxygen machine's excess water, get Ms Kitty cat's food ready, clean & get the coffee pot ready for morning, ect. Just menial tasks that I can do so that our full attention is on grandma come 830/9 o'clock when momma gets back & grandma is getting tired.
An unexpected part of that routine is the amount of time I've been able to spend with my parents. After finding grandma's comfortable place, she begins to drift off. Momma & I sit on the couch & cry together, talk about the day, you know - generally solve the world's problems. It's become a sweet time that we wouldn't have otherwise.
After only a few days of my daddy finding out I was walking through the woods in the dark at 1030, daddy began insisting on coming to pick me up and give me a ride home on their gator. I kept telling him that I was ok & that the kids & I had even put up a solar powered path from old lamps for me to walk so it wasn't so bad. Still, he waits up, fully dressed, for the text from momma that I'm ready to go home. The bumpy ride through the woods down the lighted path has become one of the highlights of my day, errr, night. I have my daddy, much like I had momma just a few moments before, all to myself.
Tonight grandma fell asleep with the TV on Charles Stanley. I've always enjoyed his teaching. But tonight's message was from Judges about Gideon. One of the things he shared was that God sends us encouragement exactly when we need it. That's exactly what goes on from 930 until 11. Encouragement. From the two people that God gave me 38yrs ago that have loved me through all the great times, the stupid times and now, the times we all need each other most. They've just lived their ordinary everyday lives and through that, taught me how to serve and encourage others, while STILL serving and encouraging me.

Thankful. Just thankful.

I've always, always, always had nightmares. Not the typical falling off a cliff, sudden stop type nightmares but fear that grips you beyond the dream state and keeps you awake for the rest of the night nightmares. The nightmares come in cycles and usually signal a stressful time in my life. They started again last night. Unfortunately, they are also something at least two of my children have inherited from me.
You would think that because I've dealt with them, compassion would be my automatic reaction but it frequently isn't. I could give a million rational reasons as to why I react the way I do when I'm woken up but they're only excuses.
Still, as my baby girl woke me up again tonight, I laid there, eyes closed, knowing she was standing over me, annoyed as I could possibly be. I honestly don't blame her for not wanting to wake me, given my past reactions but it is something we have talked about, "I can't help you if you don't tell me what you need." She typically stands beside the bed, bumping it, rocking me back and forth rather than using her words. Yes, this fuels my frustrated reaction. Several minutes passed tonight but she never once rocked the bed. Then a gentle hand on my shoulder, "Momma, I had a nightmare."
I was incredibly annoyed. Didn't she know that I haven't been sleeping well already? I had only been asleep for an hour and now it would take forever to go back to sleep. So I don't know who was more shocked by what happened next - Pigs or me.
I reached up and grabbed her hand. I pulled the covers back and moved over. I held her as tightly as I could while still letting her breathe and whispered in her ear how much I loved her. Where in the world did THAT come from?!?! To my surprise, she settled right down, which is VERY atypical for her, and was asleep in five minutes.
The reaction that she got WAS NOT ME. Here in the middle of my anxiety over so many situations beyond my control, the list of responsibilities left undone, mental, emotional and physical exhaustion like I've never experienced before God met my daughter when she needed him most and he used me to do it.
So as I lay here, half afraid to go to sleep for nightmares, I think about what there is to be thankful for in the middle of this storm:

I'm thankful for Pigs. I'm even thankful for her nightmare right now. I'm thankful that I got to see God use me, despite me. 

I'm thankful for 13yrs, today, with the most incredible, hard-headed, active, sensitive, dramatic ball of boy I ever gave birth to. 

I'm thankful for the opportunity to hear the front door close just now and pray my bigs to work safely. 

I'm thankful for football practice and the amazing group of young men who have formed a brotherhood around my athlete born into a family of nerds. 

I'm thankful for 20yrs with my high school sweetheart. I'm thankful for the sacrifice he makes everyday as he deals with heat, cold, rain, wind, customers, supervisors and other drivers. I'm thankful for his continued safety. I'm thankful for his time to speak my love language & make me food at almost midnight or loading the dishwasher. I'm thankful for gifts like a Symphony Bar or bag of beef jerky.

I'm thankful for pain meds and heating pads and rice "socks" that keep grandma a little more comfortable. 

I'm thankful for hospitals and doctors and new therapies in treating blood clots. I'm thankful they caught Jeff's blood clot before it reached his heart or cut circulation off to his lungs completely. 

I'm thankful for new chemo treatments and drs who will take a small time out when my loved one's body needs it. 

I'm thankful for pulmonologists and lung function tests and steriods and no fever for a week. 

I'm thankful for renal specialists and immunologists and living so close to Texas Children's. 

I'm thankful for texts that ask how I'm doing and Facebook messages that ask "What can I do? Can I make you dinner? Can your kids come over so you can think?"

I'm thankful for friends that send me their devotional from that morning because they know it will encourage and strengthen me. 

I'm thankful for mentors who remind me that things WILL BE different, but just how God plans, even if it might not be what I want. 

I'm thankful for momma's lifelong friend who asks me to remind her that she's praying and loves her....and really means it. 

This morning, I'm thankful for no nightmares, even if it means no sleep.