when the doorbell rang.....
It was 23 years ago and it was a Friday. I still remember the way my body felt when I heard Grandma's door bell. I knew what it meant before the door opened, but I wasn't prepared for the look on Dad's face.
Rewind.... it's Monday, January 23, 1995. It was a normal school day followed by a basketball game that evening. Now, I am sure that I played a stellar game, although I don't have "stats" from that night. I LOVED playing basketball and after this particular game we went out for dinner, which was scarce for us. It was a Chinese restaurant and then home for bed.
Tuesday seemed normal from what I recall, then came Wednesday.....that was the start of the end. Mom didn't take us to school because she had the "flu". SO, Dad took us and that meant leaving earlier. I was a pain to get out of bed anyway and getting up earlier for Dad to take us was NOT exciting.
Us ~ Yes, I have a little brother, pesky little thing.... who did "no wrong" in the eyes of Momma. (I on the other hand might have been a smart mouth) I won't forget the details from Wednesday through the rest of the week. Well, Robbie (mister angel, never does wrong) got in a food fight in the cafeteria and was sent home from school early. Since Mom was sick so our neighbor picked us up. ~ BONUS! I got to leave school early and I wasn't the one in trouble when we got home. We stopped to pickup a Sprite for Mom, hoping that would help with her nausea. Little did I know when I gave her that glass it would be the last time I saw her.
Friday, around this time (early afternoon) the door bell rang. Mom had been in the hospital since Thursday morning thirty minutes away from where Robbie and I were staying.
So, I knew, I just knew.
Many things have happened over the years since her death. Twenty three years is just incomprehensible. She was only 35 ~ I will be 35 next year. They say (who is they?) it gets easier with time. I disagree. It changes with time and that doesn't always mean easier- it's different with time. That's what I think. It's just different, not easier.
This is a picture of me and Mom in Fisher Park. Now, ABBA Design is right around the corner from Fisher Park.
Today, I am doing a lot of thinking. Like, what would she think of me and where I am? What would she tell me if she could say, only one more thing? What did she leave me with? Am I like her? Do I look like her, would she be proud? These are all questions I think about, some of which I have the answers.
My Mom loved to write her feelings down and it's one thing she left me with. I can look at these old notes and feel how she was felt. The funny part is, I have some of the same feelings she did. She was very strong & passionate and I feel she passed that on to me. (some people call me stubborn, I call it passionate) But, she experienced disappointment and heartache too.
She was a woman that loved with all she had. She loved my father and she loved her children.
Sometimes rain is required for growth and in the end it is our own mental tenacity that determines our individual outcome....let the rain drown you or let it cause growth.
I have her old jewelry box and watch. I can still see this watch on her perfect little wrist. I do have her hands and nails ~ per Mammaw Jane.
This watch is a constant reminder that life is too short, all moments are precious and time is all we have.
What are you doing with your life? Are you living your best life?
John 1:12 But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name:
This verse is on her headstone. My hope is that you are living your life to your fullest potential and calling. You are giving life your all every single day. You aren't caught up in the worlds nonsense. You are at peace with where you are and where you are going.