At the funeral, Aunt Darla got up to speak.

I really don't know how she held it together.. other than she IS my mother's sister.  Like Mom, Aunt Darla handles times like that with an amazing amount of dignity and grace.  Even through her own grief... she has been an incredible source of support for me. 

At the funeral... she said "Whenever you want to talk about your mom... I want to talk about her too"

And who better to talk to other my Dad and the girls than her?  Like me and the girls... she has known my Mom her whole life.  Growning up they shared a bathroom, a bedroom, and even a bed.

When I talk to her, it comforts me.  Not because she sounds like my Mom, or says the things that my Mom would have said, but because she knew her.  She loved her.  She misses her too.

When I tell her things that I would want to tell Mom... she can picture Mom's reaction and it helps me picture it too.

"Oh Sara, she would be grinning from ear to ear rubbing her hands together like crazy!"

She WOULD be.

In September I talked to the brother of a friend I had lost a long time ago.  It was the anniversary of her death, and I wanted him to know that I still thought of her too.  Selfish I know, but that's how I roll.  What he said stuck with me... and means even more now than it did back then.  He said, "sometimes I forget that my family and I are not the only ones to have lost somebody close to us."

I've tried to remember that these last months.  While not everyone lost their Mom or wife... people lost their sister, their aunt, their daughter, their grandma, their co-worker and their friend.  Their loss isn't any less than the one we had.  Their relationship was different, so their loss was different.

But they still knew her... and they loved her... and I need to continue to remember that... and I need to continue to draw from that.  Because their experiences were different, they have different memories or insights into the person she was... all things that will help me know her more. 

And so what if I cry when I talk to people.  I cry when I DON'T talk to people.  And if you shouldn't "drink" alone... I don't think you should "cry" alone either.

I'm sure Mom just threw her hands up in the air and said, "Finally!'  So it took me awhile.  I'm just a little slow at times.

I got to spend a couple of days with some great friends at a conference this week.  And in the middle of all that learning, we were able to take a quick trip to an outlet mall.  Shopping is always one of those things that makes me think of my mom.  As I'm shopping, I can easily pick out the things that I know she would have loved.  Shoes, clothes, etc.

When we went into a perfume store... I thought about my mom LOTS.  My mom wore Estee Lauder perfume for as long as I can remember... and for most of that the scent YouthDew (before switching to Pleasures becaue Dad liked the shape of the bottle). 

And as I've mentioned before she wore Ban Roll-On deodorant my entire life. 

So when I saw this... I knew she would have loved it.  And maybe they just have it in "her" heaven.

I had quite the little meltdown a little while ago.  It was silly.  And I feel pretty ridiculous, but it is what it is.

Suttie and I were on our way to Tumble Tots, so I thought it was a good opportunity to give my Dad my quick daily call.  It was 6:30 his time, well past his normal time for getting home.

He didn't answer the house phone.  Strange, sure, but no big deal, so I left him a message.

Then I tried his cell phone.  It's been the joke since he got it that he couldn't escape the three of us girls anymore...

He didn't answer that either.

I started feeling a little panicky.

I tried the house phone again.  Maybe he had just been outside.  Still no answer.

My panic started rising.

This is how is starts you see....

You try to reach them and they don't answer.

In those short minutes... I started flashing back to Karri calling and saying she couldn't get ahold of Mom.

I CAN NOT survive this again.

So trying to keep my panic in check.  And knowing there is no way in Hell I could call Karri and put her in the same situation... I called my Uncle Chad.

I (not so) casually asked if he knew if my Dad had any plans for tonight... and he didn't. 

I started crying on the phone and told him that it just freaked me out a little, which he understood.... so he offered to go check on him.  He's still mad that Dad had called Karri that night instead of him...

I hung up from him and tried Dad one more time.  By now I could hardly drive because I was crying so hard.

He answered.

I just started yelling at him. I couldn't even talk to him.  Just told him to call Uncle Chad to tell him where he was.

He had no idea of how freaked out I had been... he had just gone to dinner at my cousin's house.  He does that every Wednesday night. I knew that, and Uncle Chad remembered it right after we had hung up and called back to tell me, I just didn't get his message.

He must have walked out the door right before I started calling, and his cell phone only rang the one time... the time that he answered.

It was silly. 

I should have taken a moment, taken a deep breath and thought about it.  But in that moment.. there was no thinking rationally.  I could only think about how terrified I am now of losing my Dad. 

My whole life he's been preparing me for his early departure.  But he's got to get over that now.  He's the only parent I have left, and I need him around for a lot longer.

And I need him to get better service on his cell phone.

Sealed with Love

They started arriving one day last week, the day I attended the funeral of my friend's father to be precise.

Envelopes from all over the country... each with a number on them.

"Save the envelopes!" they said.

Number 5 came first,

Then 7 and 9...

Number 4 was a few days later.

They weren't in any "order"

They just arrived, each one with a note with just one phrase inside.  It took a day or two... but I started to understand a little about what was happening, and I once again started to look forward to getting the mail.

Once they were all here... and rearranged...these 11 envelopes....and then one beautiful picture frame... their message was easy to read if you could see through the tears.

1. A mother's love is something that no one can explain
2. It is made of deep devotion, and of sacrifice and pain
3. It is endless and unselfish and enduring come what may
4. For nothing can destroy it or take that love away...
5. It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking
6. And it never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking....
7. It believes beyond believing when the world around condemns
8. And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest, brightest gems...
9. It is far beyond defining, it defies all explanation
10. and it still remains a secret like the mysteries of creation...
11. A many splendoured miracle man cannot understand
12. And another wondrous evidence of God's tender guiding hand.

I think the beautiful women who wrote those notes, sealed them and then sent them my way are more evidence of God's existence! 

Meeting them was just a random thing... but without that "randomness" that wasn't so random to God... I've been able to survive the last few days, weeks, months, and years...

Signs of Spring

Yesterday was tough. 

It was one of the toughest ones I've had in a while. 

I wasn't able to race to call Mom and try to be the first one to wish her a happy birthday... though the time difference thing did usually hurt me there.  I thought about calling her phone and leaving her a voicemail... but just couldn't do it.  Yesterday I couldn't pretend that she was busy and call me back later...

I struggle.

Every single day... I struggle.

I struggle to keep it together. 

I struggle to keep my chin up

I struggle to remember...

But today... today is a new day.  

The horrible winter is almost over.

I know this... because its spring now.

The first sign of spring to some people might be the first robin of the season... or the first flower popping through the dirt.

But for our family... there's never been something that said "spring" more than the first baby calf... and of seeing what it looks like. 

There are two "calf camps" in our house.  The ones who like the all black calves (Mom, Karri, and me aka "the right ones") and those who like black calves with white faces (Dad and Lindsey aka..."the wrong ones")...

And then there have been those random years when we get a "red" one... so we always name it Jacob.  =)

Mom LOVED seeing the new babies.  She kept count of how many we had had each day... what they looked like... where they were....

She would watch out the kitchen window into the field north of the house... and would call Dad if she saw something that concerned her... she would say, "I've been watching that cow for 2 hours..."

And if watching didn't satisfy her curiosity... or if Dad was taking too long... Mom would throw on her mud boots and walk out to check on it herself.  She was there to help pull calves.. or bottle feed them if needed..

For a city girl... she did pretty well on the farm... unless you were asking her to open the "damn gate"...

Every year, just like clockwork... the babies start arriving on or very, very close to Mom's birthday.

They didn't disappoint this year either.

The night before her birthday... black calf, black face... and the day of... black calf, white face.

Spring is here... and Mom is not.

But we survived the winter... so maybe there is hope.

Things I didn't know to ask

After today's freak out of realizing that I have no idea what my mom's favorite meal was... I started thinking of all the other things that I didn't know I'd want to ask... until I couldn't.

Here are a few things that sprang to mind...

• What was her recipe for Chex Mix?  I mean I know she left out the onion powder... but what did she add instead?
• What did she want to be when she grew up?  When she was a little girl, did she dream of being a nurse or teacher or actress?  I know she wanted to be a wife and mom... but did she feel like she settled?
• What was her favorite vacation?  Was it one we went on together... or one that she and Dad got to go on alone.
• If she could have gone anywhere else.... where would it have been?  I know Hawaii was the last state she hadn't seen... but would she have picked going there over going someplace else?
• If she won a million dollars in the lottery... what would be the first thing she bought?
• How did she hold steady enough to put on liquid eyeliner?
• How did she always know just what I needed... even if I didn't?
• Where did she buy Dad's sleeveless crewneck t-shirts... because I can't find them and he's driving me crazy looking!

I'm sure there will be a million more things I need to know... a million more times that I wish I could pick up the phone.... and realize that whatever it is...I won't be able to ask her...

Woulda Shoulda Coulda--Who's laughing now?

I used to laugh at my Mom. 

Well for lots of things.... she was a goofball....

But I used to laugh at her because of her obsession with birthdays.

"Today would have been your great-grandparents 100th Wedding Anniversary!" or "Your great grandpa would have been 125 today!"

"Mom, come on!  Even if they would have lived a little longer... I don't think they would have made it to the 100th wedding anniversary!"

"Well I know that!" she would say... "but I'm thinking about them!"

So I would laugh... and she would ignore me... as she thought about those loved ones no longer with her.

Tomorrow.... We stop saying, "Mom was 63...."

We start saying, "Mom WOULD have been 64...."

She SHOULD have been 64....

I wish she COULD have been 64....

So years from now... when I'm telling the boys...."Your Grandma Cindy would have been 75...85...105... today!"  I hope she's laughing at me as much as they will be!

When little boys tell their Dads that girls are "gross..."  Their Dads nod and smile those knowing smiles...because they know....

When the underclassmen proclaim that THEY will never act the way that the upperclassmen act when they are that age.... Their teachers stand back.. smiling and nodding.  Because we know....

When young brides and grooms-to-be talk about what THEIR marriage will be like.... those who have been married for years... THEY know...

Expectant parents... those who proclaim that THEY will have delightful children who sleep through the night, and only in their own beds....children who speak French and are so polite and well behaved... Those of us sleep-deprived co-sleepers who have rotten little heathens...  We smile and nod... because we know.

When my mom pictured being there as her grandsons grew up, graduated from college... and became professional atheletes who were ballroom dancing doctors in the off-season...  When she thought of beautiful Kyleigh... walking down the aisle as a blushing bride... right before being elected our first female President...

I wonder... did God sit back and nod...and smile that knowing smile?