Funny how things have a way of working out....

It's September and I'm finally getting back to writing. I needed some info. for a scrapbook I'm trying to finish, and I knew I had written about it in my blog. I got on and read the super nice comments posted by ima bloggers sister. I couldn't read her blog, but her comments were sweet just the same.

As of August, we are the proud owners of my family home. Since them, I've been busy trying to make it look like "mine." Everything fell in to place. It was amazing the number of "God incidences" that took place to get us here. It would take two hours for me to explain them all. But I couldn't have predicted how easily it would all go once I let go of my fears. So, I am still feeling a sense of thankfulness and awe.

I wanted to make some decorating changes once I knew the house was officially ours. I want to live here, but I want it to look like my house. Keeping it the exact same way it was would make it a museum, and I want it to be a home.

The kids are now going to the school I went to, and what's even funnier (and possibly alarming) is that the same bus driver that took me to school is picking them up. I think she could run that route in her sleep. With 36 years of driving in, I hope she stays awake. The thought of driving the same route year after year for 36 years makes me tired! Wow! That is impressive!

So I guess I've spent a lot of time counting my blessings lately; with the hurricane and all the pain and sadness there, I can't help but realize just how blessed I am to have my loved ones safe... and possessions safe. How man people watched their family homes get washed away? Yes, possessions can be replaced, but there are so many displaced people out there....some who can't even prove who they are...their identification, birth certificate, important documents have all been destroyed. Though I am states away from the devastation, I am keenly aware of how unpredictable life is. I am one of the fortunate ones who can be on the giving end, which in this case is a much better place to be.

The hurricane did indirectly change our plans. We had plans to travel south to visit my uncle earlier this month. While his home and family wasn't directly affected, he called to caution us that gas was scarce in his state and we might want to hold off for a few weeks. We figured that we could reschedule for either Thanksgiving or Christmas, so we've decided to take the wise approach and stay home.

It's Sunday afternoon, and I've done housework nearly all day. I've whiled away my day of rest, and my body is telling me that a late afternoon nap would be a great idea.

I hope I can get back here a little more often. Blogging is good for the soul in my case; it also helps me remember where I was a few months back so I don't forget how far God has brought me.

In closing, thanks for those kind thoughts, Kristi. They meant alot.

Watching Everything Fall Apart

That's what it seems like here lately. Everything's falling apart right before my eyes. Sure, my life has never been a cake walk. There's always been troubles...financial, illness, stress just like every other person on the planet. And I've always felt like in the end everything would work out. And it usually does. I'm not unrealistic: I know that death is part of life and there's no gain without loss, etc. But sometimes things gang up on a person and make them wonder what cruel joke the world's planning to play on them next. That's where I am.
We were 3 1/2 years into a land contract on our "city" house. Things were going along fine. No, we hadn't made all the repairs to it that we would have liked to, but we're making the payments and still having some leisure money left over. We'd gotten several projects underway and we hadn't gone into any more debt because of it. We had a car payment for a car that's still under warranty, and a van that is not under warranty that we have less than a year left to pay on. We were close to our jobs and while we were a bit crowded, we managed okay.
Then mom passed away. Just months before she died, I realized she had nearly $80,000 in debts. Her house appraised at $70,000. This cute house in the country on an acre of nice land surrounded by pine trees and flowers and a chain link fence and a nice little barn....the house I grew up in. Not only was I attached to it for sentimental childhood reasons, but because it was out in the country, away from city life. As her estate's executor, I became responsible for all the upkeep and maintenance for the property; no help from my "family;" None of the boys wanted responsibility for anything about the house.
Shortly after the funeral, after the obituary was printed, someone broke in to the barn and took all of her power tools. I talked to her attorney about it, who suggested I have someone move in the house, not to leave it vacant, or it would probably would be looted as well. So I packed up the family and moved to the country...about a 15 minute drive from our jobs and "city" house. We decided we loved it so much that we'd try to pay off her debt and buy it.
Since, we've been paying bills at both homes, trying to work 3 jobs between us, take care of 3 kids, and do it all well. Meanwhile, I've been told by her attorney that he'd like to get the estate wrapped up in about 90 days. Augh! How am I supposed to save money to get a loan for the house (closing costs, etc.) when I'm paying two sets of bills and starting to fall behind on them? Then, like Murphy's law dictates, the van broke down. Then the car. We had to end up buying an older model car from a friend, who has been very kind in letting us make payments. Turns out, the van has a miriad of electrical problems too complicated to even attempt to work out right now.
Needless to say, I'm feeling the stress. Part of me associates being able to keep this house in the family with being a good daughter. Another part just doesn't want to move back to the rat race of the city, albiet a small city. Another part realizes that this is a "good mom" thing to do. Our whole family gets along better out in the peaceful country setting. Another part can't imagine what a new owner would do to the house...what was lovingly built with their blood, sweat and tears over 50 years ago. The hand crafted knotty pine cabinets....I can imagine them being ripped out and new, modern ones put in. A new owner might not understand their charm...or care. It's not feasible for me to imagine what that day will be like if I have to let the house go to auction and lose it.
The other day I found myself talking to God, praying for His direction. I know I am letting this whole thing wear me down, I'm not trusting Him. I told Him that if this is the right thing that I am doing...what He wants...His will...that I needed His guidance and direction. I needed Him to show me which way to turn. I don't know which way to turn on my own.
Is it falling apart? Or am I just not seeing the path I need to take? How I wish I knew the answers before the test began....

Mom's last mother's day 

Back to the blog

This is my first blog of the new year, and it's already April. Mom's passing has absorbed my emotional energy, but I am finally doing more than treading water.
I want to share the words I spoke at her funeral...they're all I feel about the last year and finally losing her:

I just want to say a few words today, as I pray for the strength to get through them without faltering.
Often people asked me why I called Grandpa "Grandpa" and yet I called Grandma "Mom." It made for a lot of confusion over time, but the reason is this: I knew my dad, Bob, growing up, but I never knew my birth mother, Arlene. Grandma was the only mom I knew. So I will refer to her as Mom just as I have most of my life.

I stand here today knowing that I have gained more and learned more from these last few difficult months than I have in any other time in my life. Prior to this, losing Grandpa was the hardest thing I ever had to go through. But every day I carried him with me....his wit, his kind spirit, and his love. I never had a doubt in my mind that it was his desire for me to take care of Mom...and he knew I would, God willing. There were at least two nights where I dreamt Grandpa was speaking to me, encouraging me and telling me he was proud of me for being there for her. I believe God allowed me to have those dreams to remind me of what He had called me to do. For at times, despite the many wonderful times we had, and though I loved her deeply, the pull of my career, desire to spend more time with my friends and immediate family, or sometimes my own health could make me feel overwhelmed. It was during those times my spirit was always refreshed by God. Whether it was a phone call or an email or even those dreams, He always sent something or someone to lift up my head again. I give Him glory for that.

There were occasions, especially this last summer and early fall that I felt especially ill equipped to deal with what I saw ensuing in Mom's life. I wanted so much to make everything okay, to wave a magic wand and return things back to normal. Mom and I both felt powerless. She felt like she was becoming a burden, and I felt like I was unable to stop the events that were taking place right before my eyes. I don't know how many times she said to me, "Kris, I don't know how I am ever going to repay you for all you have done. I just don't know how." I always said to her, "You can repay me by getting better, Mom. That's what I want from you."

On late afternoon Christmas Eve I went in to her room and she was in tremendous pain. I helped her open her gifts; that was the day she hugged the kids for the last time. She held on to Josiah and kissed him and told him what a sweet little boy he was. Soon after she fell asleep, exhausted from pain.
From that day on, she was in such pain every time I saw her that I almost couldn't bear it. I know she was growing tired of feeling so bad, and I know she also realized I was having a hard time coping with it. Several times, even during times that she was experiencing dimmensia, she would look over at me and say, "You look tired. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"
On Friday morning, I sat by her bedside and held her hand. I looked at her face, so pale and drawn from the battles she had survived. That day she refused all food and water and medication. She had given up. I didn't want to accept that this was the end, but she had.

And somewhere, even though I couldn't hear it, she heard the voice of God. That day, in His mercy and grace, he called out to her in that hospital room and said, "You look tired. Why don't you come home and get some rest?"

So, with her spirit willing, her body complied....yet even in her departure, she considered my feelings. Her heart, weak as it was, continued to beat until Dad and I got there, and then she went home. One day, when I see her again, I am going to thank her for that gift in person.

There are a thousand scriptures that apply to today, some of which may be read here today, but only one reading I found among the works of man applied to how I felt about Mom. I leave you with this:


Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt my love.
-William Shakespeare-

In these words, I cleansed my soul and shared my heart. I miss her still. It's the funniest things that I miss. Seeing her down the aisle at Walmart, looking for cat food. Calling me on line 3, because years ago I had given her a pen with that number listed on it. I think it was a sample pen, a business trying to get us to buy their product. But she never forgot that number and she called me almost every day. She ALWAYS said, "Kris? This is your mom." And then she would start apologizing for bothering me right away. Sometimes when line 3 rings for a second I think it's going to be her. Funny how the mind plays tricks on folks.
On Easter I fought off sadness all day. Usually on Easter I would come out and we would have ham and potato salad and then the kids would hunt eggs. We would sit around and talk and she would plan out what she wanted to get done that summer. It felt strange without her.
I am sure Mother's Day is going to be tough. I am close to tears just thinking about it. In tribute, I want to share a photo of her, reading the Mother's Day poem I wrote last year for her. I am so glad I did that now.

Finally, a tooth!

Yesterday a long awaited event took place! Jo-Jo's tooth finally came in. When he was 11 months old, just learning to walk, he fell in church and knocked his newly emerged top front baby tooth out. Since then, he has had an adorable toothless smile. That is his trademark...all his pictures feature it. But because the fall was so traumatic to his gum, I wondered if he would ever get a permanent tooth in. And now, just 3 months away from his 7th birthday, it came in! The tip pressed through the gum yesterday!
What an event!
More later.