My heart is overwhelmed with sadness and grief My soul cannot bear it alone Life’s storms are too great for my steadfast feet My spirit is sinking, I’m almost gone But someone is reaching to take my burden away He has a spirit of kindness and love His touch has vanished the night into day Now I’m light and free as the dove He draws me nearer and nearer to his heavenly throne And lets me see visions of that city fair I fancy I see loved ones perfectly at home Basking in the sunshine of his presence – God’s son!
Letha Bernice Tackett, April 3, 1982
While searching for a document in my computer files I ran across this poem, pinned by my Mother in 1982. As I read it I could almost feel the words settling deep in my being as if they were just now being spoken from the depths of my soul. Words written forty years ago that God knew I would need tonight.
I have felt deeply sad and overwhelmed with life’s grief this week. Christmas season usually brings a gentle melancholoy with it, but this year has been moreso. The world is weary and banged up pretty bad. I’m feeling it to my bones. I’m weary from dealing with what we thought was the flu but turned out to be covid. I’m weary with words that were hurtful and misunderstood; weary with unanswered questions and where do we go from here. I’m weary of all the exhausting coversations in my head that I wish I could share with my Mom who always had a way with words.
But God. Isn’t it just like him to lead me to words from my mother, written long ago, that were born out of her faith in him. Words that gently remind me that I can’t bear the weariness alone. The storms are too big to carry on my shoulders and the resolutions are his to make.
The realization that he is my hope in all things, including the worlds bruises as well as my own, brings freedom. I can let go of the overwhelm. I can let him draw me ever closer to him and the hope of my heavenly home where I will stand in his presence with the world’s weariness far behind me. Where my mom and other loved ones are already basking in his light.
With loving kindness God has granted me peace in spite of lingering illness and questions without answers. He has reminded me that I don’t have to figure everything out. I can go quietly on and allow him to do his work in his time. Recognizing that truth brings freedom. With freedom in him I have everything.
In him and through faith in him we may approach god with freedom and confidence.
Ephesians 3:12
As we go into this last week of Advent my prayer is that you will find freedom in the anticipation of the coming King; the Child that Isreal waited for so long ago and the redeemer we now wait for with anticipation of his second coming. Allow your weary soul to quietly wait in peace.
As Christmas draws near I am realizing just how much not having my Mom with me this year hurts. I know I am not alone in missing someone. Several of you who read have also lost loved ones and you know that tug and pull of celebrating while grieving.
We will make new memories this year but the air will be palpable with longing for those who are not present. One of the new memories for our family will be taking Roses to my mom’s grave in honor of what would have been her and Dad’s 59th wedding anniversary. He had been giving her roses for the past several years.
I think that is what hurts the most – knowing that my Dad has lost his bride. He married her on Christmas Day in 1959 and he loved her well through all the years they had. I remember the week she was in Hospice he held her hand and told her that he had loved her for 58 years and would never stop loving her. I know she heard him because she tried to tell him that she loved him. We heard the word love. It was one of the last moments that we knew she was still somewhat aware of us. A moment we will treasure.
Two hearts entwined; inseparable LBT
Christmas is Love. The greatest love ever given to us was the birth of Jesus. It is because of his love that we are capable of loving. It is because of his love that my parents were able to celebrate so many years together and raise their children to know Jesus. I know my mom loved Jesus. She would tell me that she wanted to see Jesus. In the midst of the Alzheimer’s she still knew who Jesus was and she would talk about him.
This year she is celebrating Christmas with Jesus. She is having the ultimate Christmas and so even though I miss her terribly and know that Christmas will be bittersweet this year I am rejoicing with her that she is experiencing the greatest love of all this Christmas.
She has received the gift that was anticipated for so long. Her long-expected Saviour has arrived. As we are celebrating the Advent of Christmas, we too can wait expectantly for the Christ-child. We can open our hearts to receive him. He will be our comfort and help us navigate the missing, the longing, the memories and the hope of one day being reunited.
And this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. 1 John 5:11
Today was a day of crying and praying and missing my Mom. Of all the people in the world that I can talk to and tell anything, she was always the one I could be the freest with. The one I could count on to comfort me and pray for me; to love me and forgive me when needed. So today was just a day that I really wish I could talk to her. Some days I miss her so much. I need her love, wisdom, thoughtfulness, and care. I know there will always be days like today and it won’t be easy but I know God can be my comfort. I can go to him. I can take him my heart; I can ask for strength. He is faithful. He loves me even more than my mother.
I miss my Ladybug and our late night talks; our inside jokes and laughter; our trips to the Dairy Queen when we’d sneak off without telling the guys; The drives we took in the country when we were restless. I miss all of it. I love her so much.
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8 NLT
One of the things I miss the most is talking to my Mom. Before the Alzheimer’s took so much away from her we would talk constantly. I’d call her or she’d call me and we’d talk about everything and nothing in particular.
Even after the Alzheimer’s I’d call home, Dad would answer the phone but I’d always ask to talk to Mom. Sometimes she’d talk a while, other times she’d have trouble with the phone. Eventually, she pretty much gave up talking on the phone.
I missed our talks even while she was still living. There were times I’d tell her things knowing that she didn’t fully comprehend, or remember later, but at the moment she’d try to let me know all would be well.
A few months before she died we had a wonderful conversation about forgiveness. I’d recently been short with her. I told her that I was wrong and hadn’t treated her as kindly as I should have. We talked about forgiveness in general and what it means and I asked her if she would forgive me. She ever so sweetly said yes she would. Even though she probably didn’t remember the incident in question and probably didn’t remember our conversation later, at that moment she understood my need to ask forgiveness and she sincerely, without question granted it. Much like she had several years earlier when I had needed to ask for forgiveness. (you can read about that time here)
Growing up, forgiveness always flowed freely. If Mom and I had had a particularly trying day as can sometimes happen, she always made sure before bed that all was well between us. We would talk things out and I always knew she was there for me. Even as a small child I remember kneeling beside her to pray about whatever was troubling me. Being the melancholy child that I was it seemed I was always needing to pray or talk about something.
That did not change as a teenager. We had lots of adventures together. I remember one summer or two that she spent a lot of time driving me around the countryside chasing a dream of a piano player (not Rocky, that came later) that I thought I was in love with. I also remember having many late night conversations about boys, dreams, life. It was nothing to stay up until the crack of dawn talking. Even after I had married and moved away from home, we always had at least one all-night talk session when I’d come for visits. Rocky and Dad would come downstairs of a morning and there we’d be still sitting on the couch.
One of our adventures at a camp meeting in the mountains of Eastern KY during one of those summers chasing a piano player. The photo bomber also had a daughter, probably chasing the same piano player.
Later, when Rocky came on the scene I wrote her a letter telling her that I was in love and I knew he was the one. I was in college and cell phones and Facebook didn’t exist, so you either made a long distance call or wrote a letter. I found that letter last year when going through some of her things. She had kept it all these years. I know my Mama’s level of sentimentality and I know she hung onto that letter to mark a significant time in my life that she rejoiced in with me.
Rocky and me the early years. Mom always said she couldn’t love him more if he was her son. The minute he came on the scene, he was family and she never let me forget that. She was always on his side. Sigh. I’m glad she loved him that fiercely.
I’ve always shared my everyday life with her. Each new adventure, each crisis, everyday moments. It was all chronicled with her. And she never failed to cheer me onor commiserate when necessary. Every new move she was there helping and planning with me even when it took me too far from home. She never tried to hold me back, but always rejoiced at each new opportunity.
She did tell me, as she grew older, that she missed her daughters and wished they could both move back home. She once offered to give my sister her house if she’d move back home. And my mom really loved her house. She is now buried on the hill facing her house. When Rocky and I moved to Louisville in 2007 she was glad we were closer. She and Dad would come to visit and we would go see them when we could.
In 2010 when we went in with Dad to purchase the house next door to them she was excited for us to fix up the house and be there on breaks, but before we could spend much time there the Alzheimer’s was fast approaching. When we moved there in the summer of 2012 between the seminary and whatever was to come next, it was clear that Alzheimer’s had set in and we were needed. I know it was a God thing that we had decided to buy the house two years prior when it didn’t really make sense to do so. We had no long-term plans of settling back home once schooling was finished, but home was exactly where we needed to be.
Living there was as it should be. Mom was restless a lot and had lots of questions about everything in the early days. She would come to my house for reassurance or sometimes just to chat a moment. The door was always open for her and sometimes she’d be back and forth several times a day. We’d have the same conversations, mostly with her trying to make sense of the muddle in her mind. Memoires were hiding and bits and pieces would show up and she’d need me to help her make sense of it all. She trusted me and I did all I could to honor that trust.
Even in the difficulty of living with Alzheimer’s, we had some good times and lots of laughter. I wouldn’t trade those days for anything. But sometimes I’d miss our old conversations. The last couple of months before she passed away there were several times I’d think I need to call Mom only to immediately remember that things were different. I went through a spell in the summer of nesting and tweaking my living room, buying lamps and finally hanging pictures. All the things I would have discussed with Mom. So, I called my Dad and shared with him. I suppose I could have told mom, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same and I also knew that she might not even engage at all on the phone. I wish I’d tried anyway.
Since her passing, I have had several times where I wish I could talk to her or something will happen and my first thought is to call Mom. I’ve needed so much to hear her words of wisdom, comfort, and encouragement. I’ve needed to laugh with her. There are times that you just need your mother because no one understands you like she does. In those times I remind myself that God can comfort me and that he truly understands.
I cling to all the hope, dry my eyes, and do my best to live life without my Ladybug.
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. ~~ Washington Irving
My mom, the cheerleader (8th grade, Mt. Carmel) standing by the fence in front of their church turned house where they lived in Beechburg, KY.
This home is now a garage and
my best friend recently purchased the property.
My Mom has always been my biggest cheerleader.
Come back tomorrow for more of the journey? Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!
I’m in a mood today. Not even gonna lie or pretend it’s not so. So many things in this crazy world boggle my mind and make me angry. Why can’t we just all get along. That is a rhetorical question so no need to answer unless of course, you have the final answer. Which I’m pretty sure doesn’t exist seeing as how we are all people with opinions.
As my husband often says, opinions are like belly buttons everybody has one. But, you know what? God’s opinion is the only one that matters and we better be paying attention to what he says.
Bombs sent in the mail, a shooting at one of our local Krogers, Politicians trying to out-yell each other, unborn babies being killed, people changing who God created them to be, and whatever else you want to add to the list. I usually go about my day acknowledging that these things exist and that we live in an imperfect world and I understand that we will not see perfection this side of heaven. I am thankful that I don’t have to school the world, that is God’s job. And he will in his time make all things right. I hope we are ready.
So, most days I take it in stride, trust and carry on, knowing that God is in control. But somedays, like today I’m just not in the mood to keep it to myself. So, you dear friend, are getting to see the flip side.
I know this thirty-one days of writing is about grief, specifically the grief of losing my mother. But, in the midst of grieving my loss, living in the world does go on and I can tell you that this world certainly causes me grief too. I hope it sometimes causes you grief as well. That’s how we know we care. That’s how we know we need to search for God’s truth and stand on it. That’s how we know that sometimes we must speak even if it’s not popular.
One thing I remember well about my Mama. She would not tolerate injustice. She did not make excuses for sin And she would tell you the truth and put you in your place quicker than you could scat out of her way. Ask me how I know.
She always told the truth and she didn’t pat you on the back and tell you everything was ok if it wasn’t. If you were setting yourself up for consequences she would tell you to build a bigger barn for all that you were about to reap. But, she did it in Love. Oh, she might be heated in the moment; she might be in a mood and she might rant a little and cause you to roll your eyes and sigh real deep, but she always made sure you knew you were loved. That’s how we knew she cared. She cared enough to tell us the truth and raise us right. And we better honor that teaching and make her proud.
I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. 3 John 1:4 NIV
So, today in the spirit of my dearly beloved Mama I come to you in a mood. I am telling you that it is time to get your house in order and get your priorities straight. It is time to quit making excuses for the injustices of this world and our own sin because if we keep making excuses we are going to need a barn the likes of which we have never seen before.
If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. 1 John 1:6 NIV
I hope you read between the lines and know that it comes from a deep place of passion for people to see the truth from God’s viewpoint. I do have opinions; it is more than possible that my opinions are not always right. But I do know that God is sovereign, he makes many things crystal clear in his word and I think it’s time we wake up and listen to what he says.
It is also possible that all I’ve been through the past couple of months has made me realize that life is too short to hide behind weak excuses for making wrong choices and eye winks of acceptance at things that are clearly out of sync with God’s precepts. If we are Christians like so many of us say we are on social media, then it’s time we step up to the plate and do it God’s way. It’s time we ask him what comes next and then listen for him to tell us. That is how my Mama lived; she spent a lot of time on her knees crying out to God. She wasn’t perfect, but she was his and she lived her life standing on truth.
And by all means, Love should always be the foundation. We can have our mood moments, but at the end of the day, we need to make sure those we are in contact with know that Love is the foundation it is all built on. Not a love that waters down the truth but a love that comes along beside and walks together in the right direction. A love that does not shrink from standing on the truth.
Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. 1 John 3:18 NV
Grace for the journey,
Teresa
Postscript:
I have not slept well the past few nights and that sometimes puts me on the dark side. Also, in the spirit of confession, I was quite put out today because my mail person stuffed a book in my PO box so tight I couldn’t get it out. It made me angrier than it should have considering the circumstances and in light of so many other things that are more important. Thankfully, I have put that in perspective and am ok. Tomorrow all will be made right on that count and I’ll have my book. At least I hope.
In the spirit of further confession, after reading this post I waffle between posting or not because it might come off a little harsh and preachy. But, I think I’ll let it stand as it is; raw, authentic emotion that erupted in the middle of my grief journey.
Two things: one, after reading it back I realize I need this sermon as much as anyone else, so maybe it is God’s message to me to not be complacent. Two, I am not meaning to offend anyone because “as much as possible I try to live peaceably with all men” (women too). I apologize if my words offend you, but if they do, I would ask that you ask why? Maybe I have hit a nerve that requires further examination. I know I have hit some of my nerves.
As always thank you for reading. I love all of you and wish you well.
One more thing. Today’s post is not exactly pretty, so I thought maybe the words don’t need a picture. Then I remembered the picture of a graveyard I took and the graphic I made that says And I Pray Hard. I decided that picture or at least the message was just the reminder we all need. To pray hard.
Come back tomorrow for more of the journey? Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!
and in Him, you have been made complete, and He is the head over all rule and authority;
Colossians 2:10 (New Am. Standard)
My beautiful Ladybug as a young woman dressed in her Sunday best.
Edited from thoughts I put on my phone app October 10, 2018:
I know from a scientific standpoint that it probably wouldn’t make sense to say that a person with Alzheimer’s could, in their final days, be cognizant or whole again. But, I would like to think that the week we spent with Mom in Hospice that she did have an understanding of the things we were telling her and even though she wasn’t completely alert that somehow she was comprehending.
I know when Dad told her he loved her she responded and tried to tell him she loved him. I know when my brother’s family were with her she tried her best to sit up and engage with them. And, when my Aunt Jenny’s name was mentioned she reached up her arms as if to hug her.
I know that she knew when my sister was by her side. It wasn’t until after my sister arrived that she slipped deeper into a sleep state, so I know she was waiting for my sister. We all had moments with her and I know she was comforted to hear our words of love and affirmation.
The day I was telling her how beautiful she was and how I was going to see that people read her poetry I know she perked up and understood what I was saying. I also told her that I was going to do my best to see that all of her family made it to heaven. I feel that she was not just hearing me, but that she was understanding the way she would have before the Alzheimer’s. I think she was fully aware.
I just need to mention that even in the final stages of Alzheimer’s she responded well to us but there were facts missing. She recognized love, and that we were familiar, but she didn’t always know exactly who we were. There were many things we’d talk about, but complete comprehension of facts and details was missing. Those are the things I think God restored to her that final week. Knowledge of exactly who we were and full comprehension of what everything meant. Those details that made the love even more special to her.
I know that you can do all things;no purpose of yours can be thwarted. Job 42:2 NIV
Science knows a lot, but there is much not known as well. God knows all things including what science doesn’t know. With him all things are possible and his purpose will be accomplished. So, to me, it makes sense that in my Mom’s final days he could restore her mind and give her those moments of clarity as her loved ones told her their final goodbyes. I’d like to think it was God’s gift to all of us.
She is now completely restored and basking in the Love of her heavenly father. And that is the greatest gift of all.
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good. His love endures forever. Psalm 136:1 NIV
Grace for the journey,
Teresa
Come back tomorrow for more of the journey? Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!
Teresa L Hardymon 