Thursday, December 24, 2015

Dear Mom.....and a Winner!

We're home, Mom. 

Home to the grey house with the welcome sign by the door. Home to the old, wooden doors that are hard to close and the piney walls with the familiar pictures hanging on them. Home to the painted cabinets and the silverware drawer that sticks and the white cereal bowls. Home to the toy room with it's scratchy carpet and basket of empty spools and old cupboard stocked with vintage toy dishes and empty containers of all sizes carefully saved for little hands to play with. Home to upstairs bedrooms with electric heaters to keep us cozy along with handmade quilts and knotted comforters.

How can a house be so full of you and yet you are not here, Mom?

The magazines on the end table and the papers in the basket scream your name. Your desk sits silently, letters tucked in their basket, pens waiting quietly in their cup, papers with your handwriting sticky tacked on the wall, all expectantly awaiting your touch. Your Bible lays on the little shelf, your teapot sits on the kitchen stove, the cookie jar has been replenished, though not by your caring hands.

How, how can a house be so full of you and yet you are not here, Mom?

A sadness I thought had long passed sweeps in and tears turn to quiet sobs in the night. How is it that the familiar can hold you close with the warmth of memories, yet stir sadness and tears from deep inside?

Life marches steadily on, Mom. Though sometimes we wish it would stop or feel, at times, that it has, it continues relentlessly onward. In the darkness of nightime, we mourn it's passing; in the light of day, we rejoice in its continued journey and the joy that weaves it's way into the passage of time.

It is Christmas time, and we are home, Mom. The house that is so full of you reminds us keenly of your absence. We miss you. Tears wet our cheeks and a lump settles in our throat but through it all there are threads of joy. There is family and laugher; there is love and warmth. There are new memories to make, new stories to write and a new twinkle in daddy's eye at the mention of a lady in Indiana.

God is good, Mom. I am thankful for the past and the memories with you in them that have shaped and molded my life. The future holds promise of His continued goodness and I am thankful that the story He is writing is not finished yet, and eager to see what surprising chapters He will weave with the darkness and the light.

The house so full of you feels empty without your presence. But how glad I am that you were here, and the memories are sweet!

Love, Bethany

I so enjoyed your comments and participation in celebrating mom's birthday! The only part of a giveaway I don't enjoy is the fact that I can't send every one of you a package. Turns out the winner is someone close to home - Karen Regling, Congratulations! When we get home, you can look forward to an evening at our house with one of our lively discussions and lots of laughter, with maybe a few magic tricks and plenty of jokes sprinkled in along with a brown envelope full of goodies to take home and enjoy!

Merry Christmas to all of you!


Rosina said...

Aww, this is sad. (But hopeful, too.) Your mom sounds like a dear person.

Judith Lapp said...

hugs }}} and yes, grief is an on-going process and home is where it most often hits... love to you as you journey on and find God in the hard and good.