a mother's blessing

Tonight I received an unexpected gift, one that touched my heart so deep, that at the mention of what was to come, I couldn't help but cry. If you've read through my blog over the past few years, you probably know that my relationship with my mom was a precarious one. We loved each other fiercely, but there were many obstacles that kept us from having the kind of mother-daughter relationship we both imagined. Words never came easy...in fact, sometimes the ones that counted most were rarely heard, or not heard at all. While I knew she was proud of the woman I was becoming, I didn't hear that from her. On top of that, my relationship with my step-mom didn't quite click either. Part of it was the blending of two families and the stress of it all, part of it was probably me not knowing how to relate to another mom figure, and part of it was hormones. Anyway, while my relationship with my dad came much easier, I felt like I had to do or say the right thing sometimes to even be liked by the women in my life.

*Side note, I have a good relationship with my step-mom now. She's an amazingly giving and caring woman. What I am writing about here is more of a reflection of my perception after the conflicts that we went through early on in our relationship. Some come easy, ours did not. But we worked it out, and that is a part of the relationship we have now.

When my mom passed away, I realized that the words I longed to hear from her would never come. There is something very powerful about a parent's blessing. It calls the children to believe they have worth and are covered by the love given by that parent. What a parent sees about their child is so important...it validates who they are. I can't wait to speak words of blessing to my children, knowing the value of it. This is not to say that our worth comes from what our parents say/believe for us...our worth comes from God. But God has given parents a very special role in molding and shaping children, and it is never too late to receive words of blessing from parents, nor can they be spoken too much, I believe.

Tonight Pastor Denise came up to me, and sat me down. She said that she wanted to give me a mother's blessing. Upon those words, I could not contain the emotion. Both she and I knew that she would and could never replace my mom, but at the same time, she knew the importance of having a woman speak blessing into my life. She shared the things she saw in me, and what she hoped to see me continue to grow to be. She called me to sing. To sing in every area of my life, pouring passion and gift into all that I put my hands to. She told me she loved me, not for what I've done but for who I am. She spoke into that place of feeling the need to earn love, and called me to just receive. I am so grateful that she took the time to tearfully share her love with me. She has always been someone I have looked up to and I know God has used her many times to heal some of the wounded views of women. But tonight, God used her to deliver words that I know my mom would have said if she could, and even some words straight from His heart.

To show you how much my relationship with my mom has impacted my life, I'll let you in on a little secret. When I wrote a list of things I am praying for in my future husband, I specifically put that his mother would love me. I knew I didn't have the strength to fight so hard for a good relationship with my mother-in-law. I just want it to come more easily than it has for me in the past.

There is such a relief in simply being loved. It's a small picture of the love God has for us. Our relationships with people are not always perfect or easy, nor is it fair to expect that. It's only in God that we can place our complete trust. However, our parents are meant to reflect His heart. That's why that gift of words meant so much to me. They help me continue to understand more and more of how God sees me, and it's a wonderful thing to get a hold of.

loss.

A few days ago, I was in a bit of a funk, and it was hard to put into words all that I was feeling. It was my mom's birthday, and I have been sorting through other emotions...I think it's best I didn't write for a bit. This time of year can be kinda rough on my emotions, and I think my biggest realization in it so far is that when someone you love dies, you don't just suffer the loss of their presence in your life. You also grieve over the loss of the dreams you had with that person. In my case, I had dreams that my mom would not miss out on everything important in my life. She missed out on so much...my adolescence, my prom, my graduations (both high school and college) and all the in-between...I knew that she wouldn't miss out on my wedding. She wouldn't miss out on seeing my children. She would have something to share and say in those times. She would be there.

But she didn't make it to those things. She won't know my husband or my kids. She won't be there for those milestones...just like she wasn't there for the others. It's not that she didn't want to be. I think deep down she wanted to more than she could express. But she wasn't. And then her death meant death over those dreams as well. It hurts. When we don't see the dreams we long for find fulfillment, it breaks something inside us just a bit. It's why it says in Proverbs 13:12, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."

I am learning to trust in God when faced with heartache such as this. I am learning that even when things seem devastating, God has a plan...and that it is for the good. I am learning that I can still hope and dream...that loss doesn't have to be a setback, but simply a stepping stone. Grief and goodbye is a process that no one ever wishes to face. And I know that my mom will not be the only person I'll have to go through that process with nor have I seen all of its facets. It's a journey, sometimes painful, but thankfully one that I don't have to walk alone.

rough around the edges

I feel like life has been a little rough around the edges lately, and while I know this feeling will most definitely pass, I feel quite consumed by it at the present time. I feel worn, like a weathered book left out in the sun or the rain or both. I feel sad in waves, in the quiet moments of the day. I feel like I am going going going...because work demands it of me. And so I am tired and would rather rest a while. Meanwhile, my heart is crying out to keep going strong...but at the same time, it feels like there is little left to give.

This will pass. I am a mix of emotions from the season, and exhaustion from work I am not used to doing. I spent Tuesday night alone on my couch because I was too tired to move. I was hoping someone would be home, but instead the time passed, and I kept myself distracted. And all the distraction really does is cover up the feeling of being alone. I haven't let myself cry yet...until now. It is as though writing draws it out of me...the sadness that words cannot describe. That does not make a lot of sense, but I guess the process of slowing down just enough to let it spill out is enough.

This time of year is a mixture of strong emotions for me. I love it, and yet at the same time, feel overcome by it. That is what grief does. And in a few days, I will pick myself back up and keep going...a little stronger and a little less burdened.

I know I am loved. I am surrounded by so many people who made it a point to check in on me. And when I feel like no one else in the world understands exactly what I am going through, God reminds me that He knows and He has not forgotten me.

memorials, walls and other things

All this week has been rather blah for me in terms of my emotions and even my physical health. I have been in a bit of a funk lately, and while it is easy to blame it on surface things, the truth is that it runs much deeper. It is easy for me to say that the memorial service I went to this week was the strike the match needed to light this funk on fire...it was for a co-worker's husband who died of the same thing my mom did a little over two years ago. I did not get to have a memorial service for my mom. Complicated issues with my step-dad led to a parting without a remembrance. She was simply gone. The memorial service for this man was amazing. He lived a motley-crue-kind-of-life prior to being saved in prison, and he since then lived his life for the Lord. A man who impacted countless lives through the love of Christ that bore witness in him. I wept for many reasons throughout the service...I want to be like him. Like Christ. I wept for his wife's loss. I wept for my own loss, and that I did not get the chance to honor my mom in a similar way. It was complicated, but I felt the Holy Spirit gently reminding me of His presence.

I have been fighting allergies and cold symptoms all week too...sapping my strength and really causing me to want to stay under the covers until the funk passes. But really, these things are surface level triggers to the deeper issue.

God is asking me to tear the walls down.

He has been giving me things I have only secretly hoped for, and He is saying that if I want more, if I really want to live the life He is calling me to live, I need to tear the walls down. The walls that separate me from feeling the FULLNESS of His love. The walls that keep both Him and others at an arm's length away because if anyone gets too close I might get hurt. I might be disappointed. But God's love casts out fear. The walls have been my comfort zone, my shelter, my strength. The truth is, though, that my walls hold me back. I am missing out on the BEST God has for me when I hide behind the walls. I love God, but I have yet to experience the fullness, the surrounding love that never fails. And if I want more than this settled life, I have to let Him in. When I choose my comfort over the letting go, I am choosing to keep God at a distance. I am settling for second best. I am placing an idol in between myself and the very best God has for me. It is not an easy choice. The flesh loves comfort, and fears change. But my spirit has been aching for so long that I am dying to be set free. So, my struggle is plain and on my face as I am making the decision to let go. God tore down the walls of Jericho. He can tear down mine. But truthfully, He won't unless I let him.

days go by...

Sometimes I am startled at the rate the days go by, and other times, I am grateful. It has been two years since my mom died, and I feel like I have not slowed down to process it all because time is flying by. It catches up to me, but only when I feel that time stops. In some ways, I am glad that I keep going so I don't have to feel the pain...but inevitably, I know it will overwhelm me at the next chance it gets. Two years ago, I got a phone call and knew I had to fly out that night. I slept poorly, praying I would get to see her one last time before she was gone. I had only seen her three weeks before when we celebrated her 50th birthday and Thanksgiving all in the same day. I had bought her a blue sweater to keep her warm at her appointments. As soon as we could the next morning, we (my brother, me, grandpa, and step-dad) drove out to the hospital she was in. I couldn't tell if she knew if I was there. Over the course of the day, I told her I loved her, that we were going to be okay, and that I was so sorry...

And I prayed that she heard me. My brother and I left only to get coffee and take a walk. We came back quickly and sat by her side. I began to notice a difference in her breathing. When the time came, her eyes got wide and she looked over at me. I spoke to her words of love, and she then looked to the other side of the bed where my brother sat. She knew we were there. She heard what we spoke. And then she was gone.

Two years have gone by in a blink, and I feel like it happened just a few days ago. And at the same time, it feels like a lifetime ago. I am trusting that the Lord will help me to process it all as the years go by at a more rapid pace. But today, I stop and remember her, and love her.

emotional assault

This time last year, I had a difficult time processing all the emotions I know are sitting under the surface. It had only been a year, yet it was shocking to me that a year had already passed. A year since I cried out so deeply for my mom's healing, only to know that it was her time to go. Most of the time it felt like nothing had happened at all, but then when the emotions did come, they felt like an assault on my entire being. I still find myself at times caught off guard at how painful, even physically, the process of grief is. I have known sadness and loss before, but this strikes deeper. And here I am, another year later, still processing. I have closed myself behind my door because it is what I know how to do best. The pain washes over me like a wave. Part of me is torn. I need to process this, and yet, it seems easier to distract myself so that the pain can go away. It never really does...it lingers and then assaults me when it seems most unwelcome. So, I sit in my room, trying to let the emotions of the moment release. Tomorrow is her birthday. And three weeks from now, it will be two years from the day I watched her go.

A dear friend reminded me of the footprints poem and how it talks about the times the man looked back and only saw one set of footprints. It was during those times that he had suffered the most. Jesus reminded him that it was in those times that he carried the man. It is in moments like these, when I need to be comforted but do not know how to be, that I feel Him lift me off my feet and carry me for a while. And because of that, even though I have no idea what I am doing, I know I will be okay.

Mother's Day Tribute

My life is different than most people in several ways...
Not only did I mostly grow up without a mom in my life, I went through the
process of losing her twice. The first time to divorce and a move to
Nevada. The second time to Pancreatic Cancer in December 2006.

This is my second Mother's Day without her, and this year, I wanted to honor her life. This is my mom. She was beautiful, and I look a lot like her. I think these
photos of her on her wedding day to my dad reflect a time of dreams
just beginning...

I believe that my mom's greatest joy was becoming a mother. The picture
above is of her pregnant with me. She was so full of life and
anticipation.

She loved being in the water! We would go swimming all the time.
Being out in the sun and water took up many hours for us...she
would call my brother and I "fish" because we swam so much.

This was on a Girl Scout trip we took in the snow. She became a Girl Scout leader so she could spend more time with me. Some of those times are my favorite memories...dressing up like Barbie or Christmas boxes for parades, going camping...


After she moved to Nevada, my mom would send me letters. The end of this one expressed how much she loved and missed us. I would always look forward to these letters, especially during the early days of her being gone. I cherish these now.

I love this picture because we were all laughing. We took these during one of our visits over the holidays. She always wanted to have lots of pictures of us.

My mom had always wanted to go to Hawaii. She finally got to go in 2003. She took me as an early graduation gift (from Cal Poly). It was just me and her, out in the sun and water, just like the old days. But this time, we were in a new, beautiful place. We did every tourist-y thing imaginable! A luau, riding in a submarine (below 100 feet!), the island tour, plantation tours, Polynesian Culture Center, snorkeling, laying on the beach, eating out, shows, Pearl Harbor, a cruise dinner on the ocean...you name it! We had a great time, and for her, it was a dream come true.

me and my brother

My mom also loved animals. She had four dogs and three cats when she passed
away. They kept her company...as many of the years passed without her being able to spend much time with us. I don't think she really knew what moving away to Nevada was going to do to her relationships with her children when she initially moved. She later told me that she wished she could move back to California.
She never did.


I would not be the person I am today if not for my mom. I am a reflection of her life...
and a representation of her dreams.



Happy Mother's Day, Mama. I miss you so.

gloomy day

I am sitting here looking out my window and all I see is fog. It is cold outside...not much like yesterday. Yesterday, I was at the beach in a sun dress enjoying the beautiful weather with friends. Today, it is not like that at all. I am contemplating a nap, but instead, I am here at my laptop, unloading my thoughts. I feel a bit like what is reflected outside. Truthfully, it is a week away from Mother's Day and there are moments that are starting to catch up to me again...moments that come when I feel most dry or alone. They flood in and I end up crying in the middle of my kitchen. I try to hide it and then God sends people like my friend Jeff to ask me blunt questions like "Have you been crying? Are you okay?" And of course, I cannot lie when asked that kind of question, so I unravel a bit and am no longer able to hide. Ha ha. Most of the time, I either don't slow down enough to let the moment impact me or I move on quickly to the next convenient distraction so I don't have to cry. But I do. I have to cry. I have to let the fact that I miss my mom come out when it needs to and it has to be okay. I often argue with myself that I just need to be strong and keep going because I have too much to do and I have to be strong so I can lead others, so I can give something away to those who need it more than I do. The truth is that if I don't allow myself to receive from God or let out what is bottled up inside...what I end up giving away is brokenness or I give all that I have left and run out of strength. God has been speaking to me about His Presence and staying there. I am finding more and more that I don't get far without it. My strength only lasts so long. My abilities only go so far...and then I let go of hope when things don't pan out the way I hoped that they would. But God calls me to hope. His hope does not disappoint. So, even in these moments, even when I feel so stretched I might break, God is my strength. And I can be weak in His arms. I am safe there. I don't have to put up a front and pretend to be okay. He knows. The truth always comes out, and if I hope in Him, He will provide. This day may feel gloomy in many, many ways, but there is a ray of hope beyond the fog and clouds. There is a ray of hope beyond the heaviness of this moment.

boxes

It has been almost a year,
I cannot believe how time has passed.
The boxes I've had since last December
mostly sit in a corner collecting dust.
I've avoided opening most of them, pretending
they are simply not there.
Boxes of emotions, boxes of memories,
boxes of hopes that are now empty.
Boxes of laughter, boxes of pain,
boxes long forgotten.

This time last year, I was buying you
a blue sweater.
Blue was your favorite color and you
were always cold.
I was coming to visit you for your birthday.
You would be turning 51 soon if...

I've fought a lot of regret in the last year.
I've learned it is not a friend you want to keep around.
There is never enough you can do to appease it.

I remember you telling me that you were scared.
I cried silently with you and tried to be strong.
I built walls to keep the pain in,
but it spills out in unexpected moments.
I stuffed it all in a box to avoid facing the reality that...

I remember when you let me drive,
not yet thirteen, on that dirt road by your house.
We laughed as I almost hit the fence.
I remember baking with you,
turtles and cookies,
scents of sweetness filling the air.
Those boxes have been sorted through,
and placed in special places in my heart.
There are others though...

When I lost you in December,
it was not the first time I mourned over you.
And I am still trying to figure out how to feel,
since really you have been gone most of my life.
Some of what hurts the most is the realization
that this year has gone by like most of the others,
and that your absence didn't change much.
But when the moments come,
and I know that I will not see you again,
or hug you, or laugh with you,
the pain is so deep words cannot describe.
More deep than when you were just 430 miles away.
At least then I could cross the distance to get to you.

So, I am still sorting through my boxes,
some that I have put under piles of other things
as the milestones begin to pass for the first time.
I remember telling my brother that we may not
have you for another Christmas.
I didn't think we wouldn't have you for last year's.
I miss you, and I miss what having a mother
means for a young girl's life.
I think sometimes I miss the very idea of you.

Maybe this season I will unpack a few more boxes.
Some will have to wait until I reach new
chapters in my life.
I know I cannot leave them forever.
The walls I made are not made to last.
And the One who made me
has a greater plan than the walls I built.
He restores what has been lost,
and puts hope into empty places.
He will take me through each box as
I keep moving on.

I love you and miss you mom.

Mother's Day

I find myself to be a bit in a funk these days, and definitely missing my mom. I went a while without tears, and then at the idea of a holiday, my tears come back as though they never left, the pain fresh again. This time last year, I was making a card for my mom. In it, it stated that I dreamed of her watching me walk down the aisle and kissing her grandchildren. At that time, I truly desired for that time to come, so she could experience that blessing. Part of me knew that of all the important events in my life, those were the ones she wouldn't miss. And here I am, knowing that she won't have that chance. She missed so many birthdays and graduations, prom, so much of my life. I know today that if she could have gone back, she would not have moved to Nevada. She always wanted to come back, but never could.

Funny thing is that my mom was not an active part of my life, but my heart always ached for her. No matter what, I loved her. No matter what she said or did, I wanted her to be a part of my life. I wanted her to be at those events, but she never made it. And she is not going to make it now. This year I am not scrambling to make this Mother's Day special. This year I won't hear her voice on the other line. I sometimes forget that she's gone and think that I need to call her. It comes back, usually with a picture of her in the hospice bed- the reality that she's gone. This is the first milestone since she died, and I have found myself crying the past three days. It is only May 1st! I thank God that He is with me, mourning with me, and loving me through this time. Because I miss her, even the simple conversations we would have.

Happy Mother's Day, mom.

Beautiful woman, life much like the worn pages of a classic book, Taking one step at a time, giving away what she could. A woman who loved so much that she did not always know how to express it, Sorrows so deep, no person could reach. Decisions made over time leading to regret and memories so sweet, laughter overflows. She loved writing, crafts, drawing- expressions of all she contained. She enjoyed the outdoors, barbequing, Nascar, football, and crime drama. She loved her two children, gifts in her eyes. Her heart broke a thousand times when she left them behind. I look like her, sometimes sound like her. I belong to her, and she is a part of me. No longer here, this beautiful woman. My hope is that she is at home, full of peace and free from pain. I miss her, and in a way, I missed her long before she was gone.

I love you, mom. Thank you for your love.

November 23, 1956 - December 15, 2006