(This was written on Friday morning 6-4-10. Frank and I were visiting my dad in north FL and he has no internet service. Hence the posting delay. I'll have an update soon.)
There are moments in this blogging journey that present a bit of a challenge for me. I don't exactly know the normally accepted "blogging boundaries." I mean, I'm sure you can imagine the dilemma. The blogs that I read are enjoyable because they are personal and I feel that I know the writer better after reading each post.
But just what qualifies as tooooo personal? Hence, my dilemma this morning.
However, I've come to feel that those of you who indulge my "ramblings" by actually reading them are like friends. And I've always been thankful for and relied on my friends. So here goes.....
This morning I'm sitting in the prayer chair of my very own little mama!
I've read from her devotional Bible which still sits on the table by her chair. I've petted her scrappy little three-legged beagle. (And oh yes, she DID call the dog "Tripod." Mom never allowed a comedic opportunity to pass!) I'm looking out the windows on the sun porch she designed. I'm listening to the birds sing, the squirrels forage and the morning news which Dad has on in the adjoining room at a level adequate for his hearing! Smile.
I'm drinking coffee from one of her favorite cups as I write. Her pin cushion is sitting here right where she left it along with one of the blue "brush" curlers she used every Saturday night. I am immersed in the joy of being able to touch things she touched; drink in views she relished; experience sounds that delighted her.
The only thing missing is a visit from hummingbirds - Mom always kept feeders up during the season. And, of course.........Mama.
But I opened by expressing to you that I have a dilemma.
Today I will meet a lady that has become a special friend to my widower dad. (Just writing that requires a pause so I can allow the tears in my eyes a moment to clear.)
My parents married young and I was born two weeks before their first anniversary. I'm glad to know that I was planned by God because Mom and Dad certainly did not plan for a baby that soon! Smile.
All that to say: Dad is a young-looking 72. He'll tell you in a heartbeat that Mom fed him well and always took care of him; that's why he enjoys excellent health. He may even live to be 100. And who wants to be all alone for so many years? Dad has spent eighteen long, lonely months with grief as his only daily company. Now, he has turned a corner and we must go there with him.
(Told you this is a tough one.)
Emotions are tumbling inside me much like the contents of a cement mixer would. While making the trip to north FL last night, Frank valiantly waded into the middle of my "stuff" and tried to help me sort some things.
We discussed what's real and what's only imagined. We talked about fear of the unknown. We flagged some potentially dangerous "landmine topics" to avoid at all costs. We acknowledged that Dad deserves to be happy . And we took time to pray; asking God to give us wisdom and to be the shield around my grieving heart.
There will be a meeting between just the four of us some time today. Then tomorrow, at the annual family fish fry, this lady will be introduced to most of my Dad's eight siblings. All eyes will be acutely watching to catch any and all reactions which could be later discussed and dissected. (Sound like family you know? Smile.)
Yep, this post is a soul-baring moment for sure. But this is where I find myself and I guess that it's part of the point in blogging. So there you have it. Oh, one request. If you think of it would you just send up a little prayer for peace?
Funny, that's the thing Mom held to through all the long years of her battle with cancer. I can almost hear her thick southern drawl, laced with strong determination -
" 'Peace be still', Sheri. That's what the Lord keeps whispering to me. And that's what I just keep telling myself. 'Peace, be still!' "
Thanks for the prayers.