An Esther Moment

I struggle.  Sometimes.  A lot.  I wonder about so many things.  I worry about too many things.  I ponder God's plan and purpose for me.  My life, right now, is certainly not how I had "planned" it to be {but then, there is that old saying "We plan, God laughs"}.  It isn't a complaint, it certainly is not a regret.  It is simply a ponder.


I understand and fully accept that, right now, God's plan for me is to take care of my Daddy.  And while I understand His plan, I don't understand His purpose.  The disease of Dementia has consumed my Dad...... my brilliant Dad, a Biblical scholar, the smartest man that I know.  So much knowledge that it would boggle your mind.  Now, he sits and watches TV..... all.  day.  long.  Sometimes he has clarity, but those times are becoming more rare.  So I wonder.  Why has God allowed this disease to steal not only my Dad, but a brilliant, selfless servant of His?  What is the purpose?

But, alas, maybe the purpose is not for my Dad.  He has fought the fight.  He has finished the race.  The master has said, "Well done, my good and faithful servant!"

Perhaps, just perhaps, His purpose is for me.  Maybe this journey is for me to learn, to grow, to become selfless.  So, I search and I pray, trying to understand and trying to learn from this possible lesson.  I may not know the answers to my pondering for a long time, if ever, but this one thing gives me strength and courage.....

Letter to Heaven

Dear Mom,

I miss you.  Plain and simple.

It is difficult to think about all the milestones that we have already been through and will be celebrating without you.  Birthdays, weddings, grandbabies.... so many things I have wanted to share with you.  I always want to tell you important things, silly things....EVERYTHING.

It's crazy to think about how things have changed the last 4 1/2 years.  Your home is now my home.  The spot in the living room where you sat is now my spot.  Different chair, same spot.  I'd rather see you sitting there in your chenille robe crocheting your latest project.

I used to talk to you every night at 8:00 after you had gotten Dad settled.  I could set my watch by it.  Sometimes, I would get annoyed because I was tired from a long work day and it seemed like random chit chat to my weary ears.  I would give anything to talk to you now.

I miss your voice mails that said, "Hi, it's your mother...." because I couldn't tell by the caller ID.  There was always an eye roll and a giggle.  Or the fact that you never could figure out how to check whose call you missed on your flip phone, so you would call and ask, "Did you call me?"  And we won't get started on our visit to the Verizon store for a new phone for you.....

You were so full of stories from the past.  Now if I have a question, there is no one to ask.  I should have listened better.

I think of you many times every day.  Some days are full of laughter, some days are full of such sadness.  You STILL impact so many, many people.  There's always a "Mitzi" story to be told when seeing someone that you knew. 

You taught me so much.  You taught me to sew, which is now my passion and my business.  You taught me that I can't treat each of my children exactly the same because they are all individuals and have different needs.  You taught me to remember that when difficult times happen, "it's only temporary" and then you can get through anything.  You taught tough love and unconditional love.  You were always on my side.

You entrusted me with the care of Dad, knowing you would leave us soon.  I listened to your instructions, but I didn't want to hear them because it made the "losing you" a reality.  I wasn't ready, but honestly, I never would be ready.  I had you for almost 51 years, but I will need you for the rest of my life.

You were the strongest woman I have ever known.  I often ask myself, "what would Mitzi do?"  I try, but I will never fill your shoes.  I am my Mother's daughter with sprinklings of my Dad.  For that, I am proud and thankful.

I love you always.

Your daughter,
Linda