12.20.10

It's still raining. Been going strong for the last two and a half days. Doesn't bother me. Fits the mood of my soul. My heart's been heavy the past few days, and not until today did I understand why. I wasn't surprised at the phone call, but it stung all the same. And even though it's later than I've been up in a long time, I dread sleep. For now my tears have dried, but I know once my head hits the pillow they will flow freely again.

How do you celebrate a joyful occasion like Christmas with a sad, heavy heart? I can't fake a happy face this time. Five days before Christmas and now my thoughts are consumed with attending another funeral. The last one was so terrible I feel nauseated thinking about the next. And though it wasn't a surprise, it hurts, it stings and my heart aches like none other tonight. At Thanksgiving none of us even spoke plans for gathering together Christmas eve, it was like we all knew. She was just done. She was ready to go home. But it doesn't make it any easier. Recently someone said mourning the death of a believer was selfish, because they are in a better place, at home with Him and to mourn and be sad is only for us. Then I will just be selfish because I am mourning and my heart is bitter and sad tonight.

I will miss her so much. I feel like my family is gone. It's just us, here under my roof now. The rest have or will move away. She was the glue that kept us together. I'm thankful my children had the chance to know her. To hunt golden rocks in the yard, to compare their young, tiny hands with her weathered, veiny ones. To ask her questions and hear her stories. To receive her gifts, and hugs. I'm thankful for the memories I have of her as well. She took care of me when I had the chicken pox in the first grade, rubbing the pink calamine lotion on my itchy back. She played ball with me in her yard, I watched her hang clothes on her clothes line on windy summer days. She laughed with me and called me Missy. She was proud of her family, her grandchildren and to her amazement this last Thanksgiving, her five great-grandchildren.

 Her children rise and call her blessed.