Traces of Momma
Last Monday, my heart felt heavy. I woke up with such great sorrow and heavily missing my Momma. I tried to blame my sadness on the fact that we didn't have eggs, and after I absent-mindedly grabbed the cast iron skillet handle with my bare hands, the tears weld up and poured out. It's almost been a year since she passed away and around this time, she began declining pretty quickly.
Mondays are my days to catch up on quiet time and I packed up the dog and headed to Boulder Reservoir, my soul feeling the remnants of earlier tears. During my walk, I thought about the suffering that my strong mother had gone through. I replayed doctors' visits and surgeries in my mind. I replayed the moment she was transferred to ICU where she would remain until she passed away. But somewhere on the trail of these sad thoughts, I turned a corner and the mourning turned into celebration. I began to focus on the memories and joy that she brought to me and all of those around her.
The weather was warm and I had my swimsuit on, so I dipped my body into the water and then floated on my back, staring at the sky in gratitude. More and more the sadness turned into joy and by the time I left the reservoir, I couldn't stop smiling.
That very next morning as I sat down at my desk to began working, my phone made a sound. It was an unfamiliar sound and as I looked at my phone, there was a notification that read "Vicki Shigley likes your verse image for Psalm 27:13."
I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
Wait a second?! First of all, I don't even have my Bible App set to send me any notifications. I was caught off guard and immediately opened up the App but there was nothing in my notification that my mom had liked anything. For a brief second, I tried to justify how that could happen, and then instead, I celebrated that my Momma is with me, always.
A couple of days later, while checking my email, I got a notification that I got a new email from Vicki Shigley. All that was attached to the email was an old application for an event that I co-produced to raise money for Sarcoma back in 2018.
Again, another unsolved mystery that I took as a sign that in turn, inspired me to do a fundraiser in honor of my Momma this summer for Sarcoma.
This past week, my Mom has been in several of my dreams. In one dream, she had her permed hair, and ever-so-stylish rose pink outfit on. She popped out of the upstairs bathroom to talk to me. I called up my Dad to come and see Mom, but he couldn't see her. Then, throughout the house, I would see her again, but this time I knew that it wasn't her, it was some kind of an evil presence. When I could sense that it was not her, I rebuked the presence that pretended to be her.
It was such a bizarre dream, beautiful in parts, but frightening in other parts. Throughout the dream, I knew the truth. There was no fear when I rebuked the presence that pretended to be her.
This past weekend, I spent time at our family home where I grew up since 1982. My dad lives there with the kitties and it is a large house that just isn't the same without Momma's energy. In the fall, my brother and I will be moving back home with Dad. This will be my foundation, but knowing me, I need to have my city crash pad too. Something came over me where I was brave enough and felt ready to finally clean out my mom's closet and drawers. The items that I was so emotionally attached to, became just items. Of course, I saved many of the items that mean something special to me. It felt very freeing to be ready to do this. In my heart, I knew that my Mom was okay with all of this and that she would be happy to see that we are moving forward, with her in our hearts.
During my Mother's passing, it was impossible not to feel the strength of the Lord holding us up. We were able to find joy in the darkest of times. We were able to laugh and celebrate even as she was preparing to pass. My heart was broken into a million little pieces and the entire time, God was holding every single piece, molding a new heart.
June is hard, but wow, the joy and celebration to honor my Mother sure is real!
Miss you, Mommy!!
