I wonder when I will stop looking at the calendar on the 8th of every month and thinking of how many months since I lost my dad on December 8th... 2 months ago today.
I go through times of being ok... and then times when I'm incredibly sad. Usually, there is no reason for the switch to incredibly sad. It just is.
I've written a lot about my dad. But, I haven't mentioned my mom much. She's still here. But, the mom I had growing up isn't. She has alzheimers. It has gotten worse in the last year... losing my dad didn't help any. I wonder how much my dad just took care of her and we didn't realize.
Every week, I spend time with her and she is content. That's a blessing! She rarely gets upset and she seems happy to just go with the flow of things. Last weekend, she called me by my name. At least in that moment in time, she knew who I was!
As part of my time during my weekend visits to my parent's house (it will always be my parent's house even though my dad is gone. I just can't bring myself to call it "my mom's house") I've been cleaning, sorting, organizing, and trying to figure out what to do with things we don't need anymore. My current project is what has always been called the music room. The piano, music, books, games, and puzzles have called that room their home for years. I have found a lot of recycling during my time in there. But, I have also found so many treasures! Books I never knew we had, games I remember playing as a child, music books I had when I was learning to play the piano. I've found pictures that made me smile, laugh, and remember. I found awards I received in high school, my sister's college project that was a scrapbook of her life, so many memories in that little room!
Then, there are the things I didn't remember. The ones I think I will treasure the most. I have discovered Bibles. I've found Bibles given to my grandparents on special occasions, Bibles my parents used, Bibles that were practically in pieces they were so used and loved. I found a Laotian Bible that was from the Gideons. My dad's boss was a Gideon and probably gave it to my dad in case he needed to give it to some of the Laotian families that went to my church growing up. There's a Spanish Bible, too. I've only found one that was written in. My mom must have used it while studying for a class she was taking. It's highlighted and has notes written in it. I can't wait to sit down and read my mom's words and see what she wanted to make sure she remembered and her thoughts while studying.
A few weeks ago, I found a Bible with one piece of paper in it. I opened it up, looked at the paper and realized it was a Sunday School lesson she had planned. How could I tell? It was exactly the way I write my Sunday School plans! I'd never seen it before or any lesson she wrote. But, somehow, they were the same. A few months ago, as I was reading the major prophets, I was struggling through Jeremiah. Both my mom and I share a favorite verse that comes from Jeremiah so I had looked forward to reading Jeremiah... until I got there. I prayed to find a way to have the rest of Jeremiah speak to me the way Jeremiah 29:11 does. Then, while going through things, I found a devotion my mom had written from another verse in Jeremiah. And, it changed my perspective and helped me as I read the rest of Jeremiah.
I'm finding books my parents must have used in adult Sunday School classes that they took. I look forward to reading them and seeing what their thoughts were.
My dad is gone. My mom isn't the same. But, I feel like these treasures give me a chance to get to know them and feel even closer to them than I did before. I can spend time with them as they were on their walk with Jesus. Don't get me wrong. I saw them walk with Jesus every day of my life in the way they acted, in the way they led by example reading scripture as a family, praying together, and treating people as God wanted. But, there is something special to me about reading their words.
So, where was God in this? He knows my pain and saddness and I feel like He has given me this gift.
Blessings,
Jennifer
I go through times of being ok... and then times when I'm incredibly sad. Usually, there is no reason for the switch to incredibly sad. It just is.
I've written a lot about my dad. But, I haven't mentioned my mom much. She's still here. But, the mom I had growing up isn't. She has alzheimers. It has gotten worse in the last year... losing my dad didn't help any. I wonder how much my dad just took care of her and we didn't realize.
Every week, I spend time with her and she is content. That's a blessing! She rarely gets upset and she seems happy to just go with the flow of things. Last weekend, she called me by my name. At least in that moment in time, she knew who I was!
As part of my time during my weekend visits to my parent's house (it will always be my parent's house even though my dad is gone. I just can't bring myself to call it "my mom's house") I've been cleaning, sorting, organizing, and trying to figure out what to do with things we don't need anymore. My current project is what has always been called the music room. The piano, music, books, games, and puzzles have called that room their home for years. I have found a lot of recycling during my time in there. But, I have also found so many treasures! Books I never knew we had, games I remember playing as a child, music books I had when I was learning to play the piano. I've found pictures that made me smile, laugh, and remember. I found awards I received in high school, my sister's college project that was a scrapbook of her life, so many memories in that little room!
Then, there are the things I didn't remember. The ones I think I will treasure the most. I have discovered Bibles. I've found Bibles given to my grandparents on special occasions, Bibles my parents used, Bibles that were practically in pieces they were so used and loved. I found a Laotian Bible that was from the Gideons. My dad's boss was a Gideon and probably gave it to my dad in case he needed to give it to some of the Laotian families that went to my church growing up. There's a Spanish Bible, too. I've only found one that was written in. My mom must have used it while studying for a class she was taking. It's highlighted and has notes written in it. I can't wait to sit down and read my mom's words and see what she wanted to make sure she remembered and her thoughts while studying.
A few weeks ago, I found a Bible with one piece of paper in it. I opened it up, looked at the paper and realized it was a Sunday School lesson she had planned. How could I tell? It was exactly the way I write my Sunday School plans! I'd never seen it before or any lesson she wrote. But, somehow, they were the same. A few months ago, as I was reading the major prophets, I was struggling through Jeremiah. Both my mom and I share a favorite verse that comes from Jeremiah so I had looked forward to reading Jeremiah... until I got there. I prayed to find a way to have the rest of Jeremiah speak to me the way Jeremiah 29:11 does. Then, while going through things, I found a devotion my mom had written from another verse in Jeremiah. And, it changed my perspective and helped me as I read the rest of Jeremiah.
I'm finding books my parents must have used in adult Sunday School classes that they took. I look forward to reading them and seeing what their thoughts were.
My dad is gone. My mom isn't the same. But, I feel like these treasures give me a chance to get to know them and feel even closer to them than I did before. I can spend time with them as they were on their walk with Jesus. Don't get me wrong. I saw them walk with Jesus every day of my life in the way they acted, in the way they led by example reading scripture as a family, praying together, and treating people as God wanted. But, there is something special to me about reading their words.
So, where was God in this? He knows my pain and saddness and I feel like He has given me this gift.
Blessings,
Jennifer
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