My little brother told me once that it felt weird when you reach the year of your parents death that was the age you were when they died. He was right. It is weird.
This has been an extremely emotional month for me. As I read through my mom's notes she had written me through the years, I miss her. I am so thankful for all of the mothers in my life that have all joined together to help fill that huge hole in my heart. It's taken hundreds of women to fill it, but God is faithful in bringing them to me. I think He knew I would not only need a lot of help, but just need a mom hug sometimes. So, I guess starting tomorrow I'm all grown up. Knowing my parents dead longer than alive really sucks. I know this is pretty morbid, but sometimes life is just that way. Growing up and dealing with real life issues isn't very fun. But I need to look at my parents and learn something, ya know? I want a peaceful life. I want to be fulfilled in what life brings me. I just need a few days to shake off the disappointments of "this isn't what it was supposed to look like". I guess I find comfort in knowing that she is happy, peaceful, whole, and loving the presence of our Father. THAT makes me very happy. A few stories, in memory...
My brother and I would ride bikes in the summer almost every day. I clearly remember riding around our house and whenever I would get to the kitchen I would look up and see my mom doing dishes and smiling at us.
In the winter, my dad would always make us go with him to get wood to chop. I always hated this because I never wanted to be outside in the freezing weather. On many occasions I would tell my dad I wasn't feeling well because of "girl issues" and he would just say, "uh..go to the house". He either loved me enough to over look it, or he just didn't realize that I used this excuse about once a week. :)
My mom and dad were square dancers. I know, I know, but this used to be a popular thing to do and they would go almost every other week or so. They would get all dressed up and my mom would wear these huge skirts with petticoats and I remember them being so happy. Often, as we were getting ready to leave, my dad would always sing as he was shaving. He would finish and my mom would look so pretty that he would come over and call her "legs" and sing, "Put your sweet lips a little closer to the phone.." right before he kissed her. She pretended like she didn't like it, but I think she really did.
Dad was the best whistler, roller skater, and swimmer.
Mom would always start these projects. Big projects. Like one day we came home from school and a wall was gone. She said she wanted the room bigger. Dad was just as surprised as we were.
----you were both a little wild and unpredictable and I love & miss you. I might remove a wall today while whistling in your memory. xoxo
Peeling away piece by piece to get to the raw goodness of it all.
2 comments:
Sweet memories. I can almost feel the soap bubbles from the dish water, and smell your Dad's aftershave.
Kathlene, some of my happiest memories are of squaredancing with your folks. I know what you mean about living past the age your parents were when they died. My mom was 32 when she died - my dad was 48. As you know, Melisa has the same thing my mother had - this year she turned 32. Melisa doesn't know it, but her 32nd birthday was very emotional for me.
Love you, Sweetie!
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