My mom, my friend, my first love, my mentor, my shero died. Memories are all that is left. I cannot call her; I cannot hear her voice. I cannot call her to tell her something funny or something sad; something great or something bad. And who…who will IM me during Cardinal baseball games or tell me when TCU is playing? I am not sure how someone so ALIVE could pass from this life. She was not old. She was ok with dying; she was just not tired of living.
Even while recognizing the smallness of my imagination, I am overwhelmed by the death of life as I understand it. Even in my understanding that death is a natural part of life and belief that she is “in a better place” my heart is broken, feeling almost beyond repair.
Yet I know it will mend. The anger will lose its edge and eventually subside. While the missing her will never go away, I do know that it will become less urgent. Even now in the midst of all the raw emotions, I feel the change. I am altered forever. A vital piece of me is gone, evaporated, poof, leaving behind a gaping hole that demands to be filled. That hole…and what fills it…will be a legacy to my momma.
God is good all the time even when I have a few harsh words to say about it all. And I am thankful.
I look around at so many surrounding me and I know the ones who have what I had…and I recognize the ones who don’t. The empathy that comes from those who have experienced the same tearing pain is palpable and acts as a balm.
That gaping hole demands attention. It must be filled.
It was with that understanding that I read Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori’s Advent message:
What is it you wait for this year? Is it an opportunity to meet the surprising around you? Is it an opportunity to reflect on what is most needed in your heart and in the world around you? How are you going to wait for that gift? Are you going to wait actively? Engaged? Honing your desire? Stoking the passion within you for that dream? Are you going to wait for a dream that will bless the whole world?
I want to meet the surprising. I know it is all around me. I don’t want to get caught up in the tedious minutia that controls the few moments left to me. I want to actively wait to be engaged in those things most needed by my heart and in the world around me. I want my desire honed and my passion stoked.
I want to be a part of something that blesses the whole world.
I cannot lose this sharp edge of pain. I do not want to once again accept complacency as a norm. My heart burns with the fire of change and my head has to be aware of all the precious moments lost.
My precious son, my beloved Deb, the bonds that were made between myself, my sister and my daughter as our hearts wept bitter tears…my knowing that even as I turned into the pain rather than to God that God was with me always and only stroked my turned back….these are the world around me.
My discernment, my future in the church, my writing – these are my passions and a vital part of my dream.
These things I turn toward. These things will be my legacy to my momma, my friend, my first love, my mentor, my shero.