I’ve been busy today, putting away Christmas and getting my house back in order. It doesn’t even look like Christmas was at my place. The tree was shoved out the door, and placed in the outdoor fire pit awaiting its destiny of being burnt and its ashes returning to the ground.
My dad gave me a glass angel Christmas ornament with my mom’s name on it. I know you’re probably thinking how sweet that was of my dad, but it’s bittersweet. You see, my mom died this past summer after being in a car accident with my dad. Thankfully, this accident wasn’t my dad’s fault and the details of the accident are not really necessary. They were on their way to get groceries on Friday June 2, 2023 in the afternoon and my mom never got to go home. She did get to spend 7 weeks in 2 different hospitals trying to heal from her injuries, but…..
While my mom was in the first hospital she spent her first five days in ICU, where she was sedated. Slowly, they began to wake her up and she was able to breathe on her own and she was moved to the trauma centre. My mom was on amazing drugs/painkillers that made her tell amazing stories about the places and people she visited in her sleep. Looking back, I’m grateful that these medications gave her a chance to escape the hospital room that she was in. She would tell us about her adventures and the people she visited with. Her stories gave me a chuckle, quite often she was in a bathroom, an all white bathroom that had many different levels, and she thought how she didn’t want to clean it. Another time, she was staying with a friend in that friend’s apartment and it was just so lovely. One day, her and my dad took a road trip to Pickering to attend a funeral, she commented on how nice the trees were on her drive as they were just beginning to change. Sometimes, her stories took a dark turn, and she was filled with fright and anxiety as she was stuck hiding in church, trying to find help and a way out.
Of all of her stories, she had one that stood out as she told it with such earnest as she truly believed she was there. And who am I to say she wasn’t? I’m so glad my friend was there to hear this story as it was so good.
My mom, with her one eye, swollen shut, her battered face, and her broken bones, looked at my friend and I and said, “I’m so glad you are hear, you’ll never believe what I saw.”
And then she told this story.
“I was with a pastor, and I was helping him build his church. While we were building, these huge boulders were in the way and we didn’t know how we were going to move them. The pastor hired a team of horses, black horses, so big and beautiful and he hitched these horses to the boulders. But before he made the horses pull the boulders out, he whispered a prayer into each of the horses’ ears. He prayed to give them strength to pull the boulders out so that church could continue its build. And then the horses pulled out the boulders and to see it with my own eyes, was truly amazing! So, remember, if God can help those horses, he can heal me, and here am I still preaching from a bed!”
My friend and I looked at my mom and agreed that God can heal her and He can do amazing things and we were happy that she got to witness such an amazing feat of strength by these horses. She told this story with such excitement that she needed to sleep right after.
Of course, as you know, my mom didn’t heal from injuries, and she passed away after 7 weeks of trying really hard. God healed her in His way.
People are funny creatures, and never know really the right thing to say to someone with sadness. My favourite is when people mention that my mom is looking down and watching over us. She’s not.
When my mom was alive her motto was, “No news is good news.” Which meant to her that if you didn’t hear from her, or if she didn’t hear from me, everything was good. She wasn’t really a phone person. I could go a month before I ever called her on the phone and she would do the same thing. In her senior years my mom became a person that wore hearing aids. She didn’t like them and quite often wouldn’t wear them. She said that when she wore her hearing aids she felt my dad was too loud. So, in her senior years, conversations with my mom on the phone were yelling conversations. I would go up to my bedroom, sit on my bed and yell into the phone. I would have a yelling conversation for 15 minutes and then say good bye to her. I would then go back downstairs and announce to my family that I had been talking to my mom and they would reply back, “We heard.” It got to the point it was funny. I would talk to my sister and mention that I had had a yelling conversation with mom, and she would laugh and mention that she too had had a yelling phone call with her. Because… yelling conversations were hard on ones voice box, phone calls were only once in awhile. That doesn’t mean we didn’t talk, my dad is a driver, so in person visits and conversations were easier, especially for my voice and for the people that lived in my house.
This is why she’s not watching me from up above…no news is good news and she’s busy. They say we can’t even fathom heaven, it’s the most perfect place for each individual. I like to think that heaven for my mom is one big yarn store with all the best yarn with the most vibrant colours. She’s busy, knitting socks out of gold and silver yarn, her arthritis doesn’t bug her, in fact, nothing bugs her, and she can knit and knit. Plus, she’s visiting, there’s people she hasn’t seen in years and she having the time of her life. If my mom was going to check on anyone, it would be her grandkids, and not her kids as she knows we are fine. That’s how she raised us, to be independent, think for yourself, do your own thing, no news is good news kinda people.
Which brings me back to the glass angel my dad gave me. I had to put it away, in a box in the basement. I like it, but not the reminder it brings me. My mom is gone, she’s not a yelling phone conversation away. I’m not going to ever hear again, “Hey Lene!” in her Dutch accented voice.
I’m ready to say “Good Bye 2023” there’s been a few highlights, but the last 6 months were hard, Hard in way that I had to learn to listen to myself and give in to my anxiety and learn coping skills. Hard in way that I had to quit drinking booze because it was my coping tool for most of the summer which intensified my anxiety. Hard in way to take a rest from people and social situations that didn’t give me any joy. Hard in way that I had to address that most things I was doing was just numbing things to cope with everyday things. Hard in way that I had to learn to ask for help, to lean on friends and my husband. Hard in way that I had to ask God to show me and tell me what to do. And He did.
I’m ready to say, “Hello 2024!” Of course it will bring challenges, and my anxiety will rear its ugly head, but I’m hoping it will also bring closure and joy. As my mom taught me, “You pull up your boot straps and carry on. It too, will get better.”
On my way to better.
From the 4th line and with love,
Arlene
No comments:
Post a Comment