Choices

Summer is coming, and with it all the tough anniversaries I've got to face for the first time.

the e-mail from Indonesia telling us Dad was sick
Dad came home
went into the hospital
got his diagnosis
the day he died
I got sick
I was told I might have cancer
my surgery

To a large extent, I have a choice in how I handle each of these. But I don't have total control. Part of the healthy process is to feel the pain, look the memory in the eye and feel what I need to. Otherwise, there's no processing and no healing. And I can't control how much it's going to hurt if choose to look right at it.

But I will choose not to dwell. I will not wallow. I want to make good, healthy choices and allow myself to heal, keep moving forward.

So I'll do that - I'll do my best to look my grief in the face, cry the tears I need to, then turn around and look back to the future. And all the while I'll keep asking God for help, for wisdom, for strength, assurance of His love, His tender care.

I'll tend my garden, go on hikes, watch baseball with Tim. I'll journal, cry, listen to beautiful music. And I'll look outside my windows at the beautiful, blue Colorado sky and thank God for each day of my life that I got to spend with my dad, each conversation we had or breakfast, and that I have a life so filled with good things.

I'll come through this season, this summer of tough memories, a little bruised, but not battered.

It's part of the simple beauty of the healing that time can bring.

Through the storm

Today is Dad's birthday.

The sun is shining, my head is filled with beautiful music, and I have a busy day ahead of me. Those are all good things.

It is a great relief to know that this isn't the first of Dad's birthdays on which I haven't been able to call him or give him a gift - because of all his travel over the years. What a deep sorrow it must be for the first birthday to come of someone you love deeply when you've always been in the same city, or on the same continent as them.

For this small blessing, I am very thankful! It helps me miss him just that tiny bit less.

But I do miss him.

The band Casting Crowns has a song called Praise You in This Storm. The chorus speaks so directly to where God was throughout the last year of my life - all the turmoil, the pain, the worry, the heartache, the burden. I knew at the time, and looking back I remain absolutely certain, that God was with me, that he never left my side, and that every tear I've shed is in His care. He holds my heart tenderly, loving me, and giving me all I need through every moment of my life.

So, happy birthday, Dad! Now you know no pain. Now you have no fear or worry. You live in complete joy. You are understood and known completely. You are in the presence of the God you loved and served, and all your questions are answered.

And, Dad, we'll keep praising God - even in the storm.

I will praise you in this storm,

and I will lift my hands for You are who You are, no matter where I am.

And every tear I've cried You hold in your hand.

You never left my side,

and though my heart is torn I will praise you in this storm.

Bittersweet

I sat at my friend's house and we both laughed, listening to the sound of her daughter playing in her room, her sing-song voice telling a story that only she could understand...

...and as I drove home I saw three children running with all their might, their mouths wide open in laughter, going who knows where.

Remember what it felt like to be young, to be filled with energy and excitement?

Remember how long you would play, and that Mom had to tell you over and over that it was time to get out of the pool?

And how far would you walk to get to the river, or how long would you ride your bike or hike or climb or build?

I cried some tears last night, thinking of Dad. His 74th birthday would have been next week, and what a youthful 74 he would have been.

When Mom died, I determined in my mind that it would be I who cared for Dad in his old age. Then he married again, and it took me a good number of years to accept without pain the truth that, being a good bit younger than him, his new wife would take on that role - she would care for him.

Turns out - neither of us got to do that. Dad left too quickly - but that's how he would have wanted it. No fussing, no lingering. Come on! Let's move on to the next great thing!

So I see these kids - hear their voices, watch them at play - and it is bittersweet. Time passes with harsh tugs on our hearts, our energies are poured into new things, we leave childhood behind.

And my youth is now behind me, middle age clearly in front of me. For some, I know the burden of caring for their parents is a heavy one. And understandably so.

For me, today at least, I mourn the loss of that yoke.

Another sign of the passing of time.

Discoveries...

...Tai Pei brand frozen Orange Chicken is actually quite delicious!

...the cream cheese that oozed out of my bacon wrapped, cream-cheese stuffed jalapenos is amazing! I must find a way to produce that flavor for other uses.

...the Ikea cabbage light we inherited from a couple good friends looks quite wonderful in my "new" dining room. (Naomi, I owe you pictures!)

...I am appreciated by a lovely friend. Her words touched me deeply.

Nothing amazing today - just little things that have made me smile over the past week. :-)