HOME TOUR

We said goodbye to you on a Tuesday night. An unfathomable reality. And to be honest, momma, I was praying you’d go quickly, had been praying that tired prayer for years–that when it was your time to go home, you’d go quickly. Watching your labored breathing and unconsciousness in that sterile hospital room was hard. I knew you wanted to be home. Any home and we tried. Although I think deep down I always knew someday I’d have to say goodbye to you, actually having to say goodbye was the most unnatural thing I’ve ever experienced. Death, it seems, is not something we are meant for.

I think you surprised us all. Because you were ready. Tired of the weary battle so you left us quicker than we even thought. You slipped away like shadows in early dawn hours. But, like we reminded you over and over in those weary moments, we are so proud of you. So proud of how you fought. Victory from cancer doesn’t always look like remission or a clean test. No, rather victory looks like dignity and grace and perseverance and the choice to keep pressing forward. Press forward you did, you got to see four grand babies come into the world because you persevered. Oh how thankful we are for that. Because oh how they have loved you and felt your sweet love in return. Them getting to know you is a gift. I’m a bit concerned my children won’t have clothes now that Nana’s “I had a coupon” packages have stopped.

How lucky am I to have had you for the time I did. How lucky am I that you were just that wonderful that I get to miss you so. You did not slip away unnoticed. You’ve left your fingerprints all over our hearts and lives. Little realities we carry with us. Ripples of a life well lived.

Anytime you have to say goodbye to something you’ve really loved the heart mourns, but saying goodbye to YOU, well it kinda feel like, where do I even begin. Where the heck do we even start? Marching forward is something I know we need to do but without you, how sad that makes us all.

You didn’t aspire to great offices of attention that current society would applaud. You chose motherhood, you called it “your calling.” And you did it well. You saw the worth in the home front. You chose to parent rather than a paycheck. You sacrificed sleep and sanity, perhaps grey hairs during Brock’s skateboard years or my pursuit of round the world adventures. You chose to pour into us all your resources of patience, kindness, strength. You lived a life of loving us well and I am in awe of that now as I walk the weary motherhood trenches and think, “how the hay did you do this?” I see you momma. I see how you loved us.

We’ve reminisced about things we will miss about you mom over these last few days. Little bits of you that we are sad to not be able to experience again this side of heaven. Anywhere from our favorite dishes to funny little quirks, moments you made us laugh, even regrets we had. I’ll miss you calling me “sweetie” and your snickerdoodles, your wisdom with my parenting woes and encouragement as I chart life. You’ve left an unforgettable mark on our hearts.

I want to walk in your ways of kindness, parent my babies with humor. Live life lightly with fragrance and value and mirror your natural elegance. Speak joy into others’ lives the way you did. Even when faced with hard things, you didn’t wallow long, no you raised your eyes heavenward and trusted, persevered and chose to see lovely in places few want to look. You saw the value of life, and the joy in it. You lived in a remarkably beautiful way and I choose that. Oh how I will miss you momma. The hundred small things I’ve already picked my phone up to call you about. I just got new couches. I know you’ve been telling me to order those for months. They just came today and they’re so pretty. Oh how I wish there was a direct line to heaven. Perhaps then this wouldn’t be so hard. So until I get to hear you say “sweetie” again, I’m going to cling to the 1000 sweet memories of it that fill my heart and voicemail box, because I refuse to delete those. Thank you for loving us well. Rest in peace.

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” –Romans 8:38-39 | NIV

(Beautiful field pictures by Sarah Anne Risk and Surprise Birthday Pictures by Ruth Eileen Photography)