Good Morning Girls

So I have begun following an encouraging blog site called Good Morning Girls. I struggle opening up my Bible, diving into my devotional, Jesus Calling. As I was sharing this "lack of motivation" with a friend last week she mentioned how VITAL scripture and prayer is to my battle each day...the battle to remain upright and fight the day despite whatever emotions arise. It is exhausting and most days I come home and become lifeless until bedtime.

I used to wake up at 6am, rip-roaring ready to go! Now I wake up at 6am and have to take a mid-early morning nap around 7am. My energy is spent and my body craves the horizontal position. My days are packed full of intense scheduling, which allows for lots of process time! I am definitely living out the "grieving cycle."

But back to the blog Good Morning Girls.....I stole the following from one of the writers (Whitney). I found so much comfort in the post and it surely normalized my experiences and emotions right now. Daily I feel inadequate, messy, and as if i'm falling apart!! Eek!

The good about not having it all together?

My dependence is greater.

My priorities are refigured.

My will is broken.

My heart is made tender.

My compassion grows stronger.

My ministry becomes more effective.

God shines brighter… for my good, and His glory.

I’ve learned over the years that all-together people don’t exist. And I’ve also learned that even if they did, I don’t want to be one of them. In my weakness, I’ve seen more of Christ, and He is more beautiful than before. I’ve watched Him weave this grace-laced story – messy and twisted underneath - into a magnificent, intentional and clearer presentation for the world to see more of Jesus in me. I’ve learned that the world doesn’t need one more fake all-together Jesus-follower. The world just needs Jesus.

So mold me to be more like you, Father. Whatever it takes. Because nothing escapes your reach, my confidence is in You. Shine brighter, for my good, and Your glory.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses,

but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. 

Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence,

so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

~ Hebrews 4:15-16

Motivationless

I sit here at a coffee shop motivated? No. 

With a list of things to do I find myself motivatedless. All I want to do is sit and write, sit and listen to music, and ruminate. My grief is ALL over the board. I'm a trained counselor but can't even tell what stage of grief I'm in. The shock has worn off and the loss and longing is even more intense. The tears and wailing decide to come at random times. It would be nice to have a flow chart so that I can plan for these big events. Not a day goes by yet that I don't shed a tear or two and it's hard for me to share those moments with other people. My Mom was MY Mom...no one here in Spokane knew her...so why try to convince them of her amazing heart and wonderful personality? It seems like too much of an effort sometimes. But there is no doubt that I think of her every minute of every day. I think of her smile. I think of her energy. I think of her passions. I think of her home. I think of her warm spirit. I think of her infectious joy. I think of her loving demeanor. I think of us together.

I keep trying to "find" her. It gets frustrating when I realize that I can't right now! Sometimes I text her hoping maybe to get a response back. She now sits on my mantle in a beautiful pewter heart and I sometimes try to talk to her hoping she will talk back. It's a trapped feeling and an uncomfortable one at that. Aren't Mom's supposed to respond to their daughters? Especially when they are hurting and in need of comfort. Yesterday I couldn't help but think about all of the small things that left with her on May 12th. Her words of wisdom and advice being one of them. I used to call her up to find out how to sauté veggies, cook salmon & steak, and I even remember calling her from college to ask her what percentage of milk I drank. Those small tidbits will be missed. No mother to ask questions to. It's silly to think about but these are things I DO think about, amongst many other things!

The loss is strong!!! The longing is intense!!! It's all consuming and exhausting right now.

One Month, Graduations, & Such...

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Today has been a box of mixed emotions. I portrayed stability and enthusiasm on the outside while saddened over the meaning of this day on the inside.

Today is the one month. One month since Mom passed away and, coincidently, one month until Molly’s joyous wedding celebration. I anticipated today because after the “one-month” it has then been “two-months” and then “three months,” etc. The distance from May 12^th still scares me. Today made me realize the finality of her death, feeling timidity towards the future. I thought about her all day long. When I did it pained my heart for a split second. 

Read this POST FROM THE PAST first :]

Monday, June 16, 2014

A fast and furious (& slightly invigorating) weekend! Dad, Karen, Aunt Becky, Uncle Greg, Dustin, and Molly all came to town to celebrate me! What a special weekend it was – but a hard one at that. I constantly had Mom in the back of my mind. Friday I kept thinking, “Mom is on her way!” But then my heart would pain when I realized it wasn’t reality. She used to get SO excited to come visit me in college and Spokane that she would pack a week beforehand and begin a countdown until she came! I miss that. I wanted to look at my phone and see, “Over the vantage bridge!” “Almost there!” “Can’t wait, my love bug!” I’m grateful Molly came over a day early to help ease the transition of grief to celebration. I tried my best to enjoy and soak up every moment because I long to be around family and friends who knew my Mom. I had just that. I laughed, I cried, I participated in conversations, but still ruminated over and over about how proud my Mom would be of me, how she would have been the “party planner” for the weekend, and her big smile that would say a thousand words.

But I did it – I walked across that stage with one my hand over my cap and one hand holding down my gown. The gusts of wind were powerful as the rains pelted down on the red field. It was miserable outside and my poor family mustered through the storm to support me. The minute I grabbed my diploma and was hooded I peaced out! A security guard even tried to stop me! Thank you assertiveness training for teaching me to advocate for myself.

The rest of the day was spent with surrounding friends who came to celebrate at our house. 

Class of 2014

The Dash

This was a poem read at my Mom's service....makes me stop and think....a lot!

The Dash

By: Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on her casket from beginning to the end. He noted that first came the date of her birth and spoke of the following date with tears, but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years. For that dash represents all the time that she spent alive on earth and now only those who loved her know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own, the cars, the house, the cash,

What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard; Are there things you would like to change?

For you never know how much time is left that can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough to consider what is true and real

and always try to understand the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger and show appreciation more

and love the people in our lives like we have never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile,

Remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.

So when your eulogy is being read with your life’s actions to rehash…

Would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?

Journal Entry

A journal entry from Sunday, June 8, 2014

Four weeks ago today was the last time I talked with my Mom. It was Sunday – Mother’s Day – and I heard her voice one last time. She sounded exhausted – like the weight of 55 years was on her shoulders. She sounded ready to give up. I remember just listening to her mumble and utter sentences that didn’t make much sense. All but sentence that is…”I love you with all of my heart and always will.”

It’s hard to NOT think about this today. It baffles me that it has been 28 days since that phone call. Who knew it would be the last? I still treasure those conversations and wonder what conversations we would be having today if she were still around.

Today I did something I’ve been waiting to do for 4 weeks. I finally watched her video she made for me. I sat in silence for 30 second before I literally burst into deep, exacerbated tears. I watch her frail figure, listen to her words, watch tears stream down her face as I myself gasp for breathe. Her 3 minutes and 30 seconds that she gave to me is something no one or nothing can replace. They are now the most meaningful and important 240 seconds to me. They are literally “her last words” to me that I will treasure forever. I was scared to watch the video she made for me in fear that her words would not be as meaningful as I was making them out to be. I was scared that the video would be watched so much and eventually “get old.” I was scared to see my emotions. I was scared to see her emotions. I was scared to see her. Now I am not scared, but rather honored to call her my Mom and will carry out what she told me to carry out…to spoil, love, and spend time with her grandkids that she will never get to meet, and to honor and cherish my husband.

I’m ready for a new week…new challenges…new successes…new experiences…

Journal Entry

A journal entry from Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Well Monday came and went - the slowest and fastest 36 hours ever. I saw family, family friends, and met and greeted Mom’s old high school and childhood friends. It was a whirlwind and during various moments I would have considered it a blur. It’s hard to recount all that happened but what I do remember is the feeling of saying goodbye forever to my Mom. I needed to say those words, view the visual of her headstone, kissing her remains goodbye, and seeing the hole that they would eventually place her in. I needed to be surrounded with her brothers, sisters, and immediate family; however, they also brought about strong emotions of bitterness and anger in me. Every one of my cousins had both their parents there with them, Mom and Dad. Molly and I were the only ones without either parent there. It was a clear reminder of our parents’ discord and family turbulence, as well as the loss of our own Mom. It’s hard to wrap my head around. We had to lean on each other for support, being each other’s mom, dad, and sister.

I’ll continually and forever admit to the pain of losing a Mom being some of the worst pain ever. I’ve had to reconcile with a lot of memories, my childhood, and how the last 17 months have been. But I now feel a freedom to let myself begin to heal. An 8-page letter I had written to my Mom was kissed and placed amongst her remains to be buried. The angst, bitterness, hostility, empathy, and love that are portrayed with those words were buried with her. They are no more and I can repair my heart.

But I’m ready to begin the new grieving process and discover what that looks like during the days, weeks, and months ahead. I’m ready to begin working on me again.