"no, I am not unwell"...but

 If I have a mantra - 

My children were sitting at my dining room table.  

We had listened to stories - laughed - remembered.

It was a good morning.

And then I left the table - to return with a small metal box and a key.

The night before I had said almost flippantly - I have no funeral plans.

One child - the one who usually has a plan - remarked - don't you think that would be a good idea?

So my plan was to tell them - where the box and the key are - and what I think they need to know.

When I had "said enough" (I know I rarely have "said enough");

My son looked at me and said,

"Mom, is there something else you need to tell us?"  Those words still make me smile,

"I'm healthy - I have a wonderful life - everything is good", I replied.

I do however believe in being prepared and I want them to be as prepared as possible.

So the box includes the information they need - in the event that I should not be well (where do you think the child who plans got that tendency-and truth be told, they are all three planners - in different ways)   

I'm not "leaving my children" very much.  Notebooks filled with my words, some things that have been in our family for many years (a Huffingham frame and the oak dresser and mirror that was grandma and granddaddy Nesmith's first purchase when they married in 1921 and a  dropleaf table that our parents purchased when Cindy and I were little girls).  And certainly not a lot of money.

However...Here's what I hope I am leaving them with.  I'd like them to feel the way someone remarked when David McCullum died this week - 

He made every moment count

At least that is my prayer.

  May you have enough sunshine in your life

To make you appreciate the shadows

The morning after

As the time for our dad's passing was drawing close, many of our friends and family members believed that our mother would follow him to Heaven - QUICKLY.  In their 67 years of marriage, she had cared for him, honored him, encouraged him - and he had done the same for her.  Some might have imagined that she would not want to live without him.

She really wasn't sure about how it was going to be.  She had told me a few weeks prior that she intended to depend on me, her sister, Carolyn, and daddy's sister, Gloria, to help her adjust to this new life as a widow.  At that time, I had been a widow for 11 years; Aunt Carolyn for four and Aunt Gloria for two.  I remember I thought I'm going to be adjusting to life without my daddy - and I'm not sure I wanted to be helping her adjust to the role of a widow.

I'm going to add a caveat here -- It took my mother moving to Texas four years after daddy passed before I had the freedom to grieve the loss of my dad.  However, this is about Iva Lou - not me.

Last week as I was going through some of mother's journals, I found what she wrote the day after daddy died. 

Now I know that's not legible to you so here's what it says:

"Iva has a dream of sharing life with her neighbors, of spending time with the family; of a Bible study; of experiencing all that my church has to offer; of living in giving thanks in my new period of adjustment without my Earl.  I surrendered him to God in 1954, and he listened and that's how we became a part of the Gideon ministry". 

A few days later she wrote that she had been blessed by the warmth of the spirit - and was endeavoring to practice I Thessalonians 5:18

My siblings, our children and I heard that verse again and again - and we knew that our mother practiced it.

About three weeks after daddy died, I came home to find Rev. Kevin Pound and his wife, Patty, in my living room.  My mother had called him to come and bless her wedding ring - which she moved to her right hand.

Rather than depend on me, Aunt Carolyn or Aunt Gloria, mother intended to serve God in her widowhood.

She basically did that for the next 10 years.  It was only when the Pandemic stole her opportunity to socialize and thus share the faith that sustained her that she became quiet.

I have her journals and I also have her ring.  While I don't wear it all the time, when I do, I appreciate the fact that it was important to our mother to let others know – she believed that the Lord wanted her to serve Him – and that’s what she did best - to become the woman that God wanted her to be. 

And as I peruse all those journals I can say - that her words (and the faith that she practiced) are helping me - to become the woman that God wants me to be.  That would make her happy!!!

  May you have enough sunshine in your life

To make you appreciate the shadows

My mother's words

 "I cried out for my mother".

I was enjoying breakfast with my friend, Virginia.  We always share what's happening in our lives - the good, the bad and yes - sometimes - the ugly,  

She was about to undergo a medical procedure and the prep was making her ill.

"It's been more than 10 years since I could talk with my mother", she said, "and yet when I was sick, it was just as if I were a little girl and knew my mother could make it better."

That was Virginia's response as I said "I wish I could talk with my mother - She would be able to help me sort this out." (Now let me hasten to say - nothing is horribly wrong in my life.   It is a time of adjustment.)

We knew that neither of us could talk with our mother that day.  We parted with hugs and I love you's and the day continued.  A project loomed ahead of me.  

It involved my mother's journals.

Of course, as I rearranged those books I stopped and read some of her entries.

And what kept jumping off the pages???

"Paula took me; Paula cooked supper; Paula and I had a discussion"

Oh my, we did have some discussions.  Mother would get so "put out with me" when I didn't think what she wanted to do was such a great idea. - one day she tried walking to Mandarin Presbyterian Church from Paddle Boat Lane.  She made it to Hardage Funeral Home and fortunately, our friend, David, was there and he drove her back home.  Another day she rearranged the outdoor plants that were hung from limbs and positioned between the azalea bushes.  That day she said, "I knew you wouldn't like it but I did it anyway."

Now I see her as really wanting to be independent.  Then I saw her as stubborn.

But back to my name - and the fact that I had been feeling the need to talk with her.

Here's something my mother wrote:

"Lord, please help Paula relax and know that everything is going to be all right. Give her some suggestions as to how to deal with the situations that she sees as obstacles."  

Hum.

My mother's words - exactly what I needed.

Thanks be to God.

   May you have enough sunshine in your life

To make you appreciate the shadows