The day I missed the bus.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:4
That’s my mom’s charm bracelet. Isn’t it cool? When I was a little girl, she would sometimes pull it out of a beautiful glass box that she kept in her bedside table and show me all the charms she collected. Her clarinet, the house she spent part of her life growing up in, a tomahawk for her family’s favorite vacation spot-Lake Tomahawk, a sweet sixteen birthday, a 1st car, a Nicolet Highschool megaphone, a NY World’s Fair charm, a graduation cap…
Yesterday, I inherited her bracelet, and the beautiful glass box it was kept in.
I would rather still have her.
It seems like everyone I see asks me, “How are you doing?”, followed shortly after by “How is your dad doing?”
I love that people ask, because it means that they still remember and are still holding us up in prayer.
I have been telling people (truthfully!) that I’m doing good. It’s a hard thing to explain, but I tell these dear friends who care, that I’m still sad- dreadfully sad- at times, but that I think of those times as a “vacation” from real life. I visit the sadness and stay for awhile, but I choose to not set up camp, build a fire, and roast marshmallows. I leave. I live life.
Overall, I still think that’s a good way for me to process this, but last weekend I went on “vacation” and apparently missed the last bus out and got stuck there.
It all started with Downton Abbey. It’s “our” show. Mom begged me to watch it with her on Netflix while the two of us waited for dad to get through his shoulder surgery many years ago. I hate English period pieces, but it seemed a good way to keep our minds off the fact that dad was in surgery. After 2 episodes I was hooked.
In all the years that followed, mom and I would either watch it together or text during the entire episode. When I was living on the Navajo Nation with no TV, she would wait until the next day (when I could watch it online) and we would Facetime and discuss everything that happened after I watched it.
So, I was watching it alone this season. Last Sunday I watched the season finale and when Mr. Carson proposed to Mrs. Hughes my mouth dropped open and I grabbed my phone to call mom.
But then I remembered.
It’s strange that such a silly thing can throw you off. I’m new to this grieving process, but there have been MUCH harder moments than Downton Abbey. It made me feel like a foreigner in my own head. Who is this crazy girl that can walk through Hospice and funerals and birthdays with composure and then suddenly crash and burn over a dumb TV show? Is this what I can expect in the future? Will I burst into tears over coconut ice cream or electric toothbrushes?
Maybe so.
In any case, it threw me off for most of the week. I needed to contact more churches and individuals about supporting my ministry with JV- I have 46% to go- and I just couldn’t do it. I was so tired and sad. I was wholeheartedly roasting marshmallows around my campfire of grief. The very thing I said I wouldn’t do. Sigh.
But then a funny thing happened. I remembered that I wasn’t alone. My ever-present God was there roasting marshmallows with me. We had some long heart-to-hearts and talked about things that I’m not sure we’ve ever talked about. In the middle of the big SAD, I found peace. Not an “oh this is going to be super easy now” kind of peace, but a “when I get stuck here again God himself will wait with me” kind of peace.
When I was a little girl, we attended Sunday evening church. Kids were required to sit in the service and I always loved the singing parts. I am awed by what God stored up in my heart during those evenings. In the middle of being stuck last week, I caught myself humming and singing an old hymn I haven’t heard in AGES. I’m positive that the words had no meaning to me as a child, but God locked them up somewhere inside of me and last week those words reminded me of His great love.
And brought me peace.
Far away in the depths of my spirit tonight
Rolls a melody sweeter than psalm;
In celestial strains it unceasingly falls
O’er my soul like an infinite calm.
Peace, peace, wonderful peace,
Coming down from the Father above!
Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray
In fathomless billows of love!
What a treasure I have in this wonderful peace,
Buried deep in the heart of my soul,
So secure that no power can mine it away,
While the years of eternity roll!
Peace, peace, wonderful peace,
Coming down from the Father above!
Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray
In fathomless billows of love!
Thanks for listening to my ramblings on life, grief, and God’s GREAT love for us.
I pray you find the peace of God “buried deep in the heart of (your) soul” this week.
thenavajojourney.com 
March 15, 2015 at 8:08 am
Ruthanne,
Thank you for your honesty as you are walking through your grief. We continue to lift your family in prayer, knowing God is your strength. I like your thoughts of these sad moments as a vacation,; short visits with God as your companion. Some vacations are a little longer than others.
I had a similar moment after my Mom past. I read something in the newspaper and immediately wanted to share it with Mom. I picked up the phone and was in the process of dialing when God reminded me she would not answer. It still brings tears when I think about it. Time is a great healer. However, even moments of grief more than 30 years after she went to be with the Lord, give me opportunities to reflect on what a great Mom she was.
May God bless you and continue to be your strength
Diane Van Loo
Sent from my iPad
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