Finality

    

Two years ago today. 

I vividly remember taking these photos. I vividly remember the conversations that took place in the airport coffee shop just before snapping them. Mom and I held hands and cried. We had just come to the end of an incredible 12 days together. She had to leave, but neither of us wanted her to go. We vowed to remember that even if this was our last time to part ways, we would say, "see you later," because as members of God's kingdom, there are no permanent goodbyes. 

No finality. 

As I spend time here in my passport country, sorting through her clothes and belongings, there are times I forget the 'no finality' part. It just hurts. The wounds feel fresh. The grief is grueling. The photo reminder that it's just been 2 years since I was in her physical presence hit a little harder today. 

I pray that she never wondered, even for one second, whether I loved her. I pray she never questioned how much she meant to me. I pray that she never felt used, abused, or belittled by me. I pray there was never a day she felt afraid in my presence. I pray after her long life of feeling all of that regularly, that she felt a peace, a comfort, a 'home' with me. She said so, and I trust that it was genuine. 

Above all, there is great joy in knowing that she is now in the presence of pure love, pure truth, pure peace. There are moments when my longing for her feels so heavy I fear it will crush me, and it would if I did not give it to the Lord.  

Isaiah 53:4a "Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows..." 

Mom has joined that great cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1), and though I don't see her with my eyes, she is still with me. (Half of my DNA is hers!) We will meet again in the new heaven and earth.

Revelation 21:4 "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, not pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." 

[This is true finality.] 

See you later, mom. I love you MOST.

On This Day 15 Years Ago

On This Day 15 years ago...

I knew I had made quite a detailed post about the things I was feeling the day I got that dreadful call about my Dad. So here I am today, just 127 days after the Lord took my Mom. 

I anticipated this anniversary date would be extra challenging, and it has definitely begun that way. I booked a 2-week sabbatical to deeply grieve my new status as an orphan. It doesn't matter how old you are when you become an orphan, if your parents are gone--you are an orphan and you feel it. God took Dad 2 weeks before Christmas, and he took Mom the day after my birthday. I won't pretend to understand His timing, but I do trust that it is perfect, and He is sovereign. 

Mom was there and helped me through the initial couple weeks, then a few years later she moved in with me for 11 years. Kory was by my side throughout the first year before he went off to college/marriage. 

This go around, I'm in a foreign country, alone. 

Perhaps soon, I will also be able to write about Mom...but for now, on this 15th anniversary of my first gut wrenching loss, I will just re-post my detailed description here. Those old wounds have opened up again. 

A Phone Call

Today is the 2nd (now 15th) anniversary of the day I received the most life changing news I'd ever received. One days before one of the most painful and worst days of my life. I'm at work and the phone rings....

Linda (crying): "Ang, I've got something to tell you, and it's not good news honey."

Me (mind racing): "What is it? Tell me!"

Linda: "It's your Dad honey...something happened..."

Me: "No! No it can't be...is he okay?"

Linda: "I'm afraid not honey, he's had a stroke...a bleed in his head and it's bad Ang, really bad. They don't think he can pull through."

Me: "I.....I.....don't know what to say. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

 A Frenzy

I'm immediately on the phone. I call the airlines and book a flight for me and Kory for noon that day. I tell my boss I'm going to have to go. I'm crying so hard I can't call Randy (my husband at the time) to come pick me up so my boss calls him for me.

A Trip

The next week is like a surreal dream. One I wish I could wake up from, but never did. Kory left school, I left work...we packed in a frenzy & were driven to the airport by a resentful man (because of the $ spent on the plane tickets) and we were on our way. A full day of flying. 6 hours of actual air time. It was so difficult to be 'social' with the happy people around me while my insides were screaming "Wipe the smile off your faces! Don't you understand?!?!" I ordered a glass of wine on the plane, hoping that it would calm my nerves just a bit. FAIL What can calm you at a time like this? When we arrived in Spokane, Mom picked us up from the airport (alone, thankfully...story for another day) and drove us straight to the ICU at Sacred Heart where Dad and the rest of the family was.

A Realization

I can not describe to this day the flood of emotions I felt when I saw him laying there in his hospital bed. Ventilator breathing for him. EKG leads hooked up to his chest. As an ICU nurse, this should have been at least a tiny bit manageable, right? WRONG. My knees buckled & Mom & Kory were there for me to grab for support. I thought, "Maybe if I walk over and touch his hand, he will respond somehow. There will surely be something left there.....surely" Once I composed myself and felt that my legs would actually hold me up to walk over to him...I went, slowly. I stood next to him and stared. I pulled up an eyelid to see if there was any hint of life in that beautiful blue eye. Nothing. It was as glazed over and empty as the hundreds I'd seen up until this point. I knew it was over for him. Had been over for him well before I arrived. They were gracious enough to keep the 'life support' going until I could be there to watch his few, remaining, involuntary system functions shut down. It didn't take but just a few minutes for me to start barking demands. "Turn it OFF!! Unplug it! He's gone, can't you see that? PLEASE! Get it off of him!" Immediately as they turned the ventilator off, my anger kicked in. The nurses didn't know what to do with me as I was ripping the monitor leads off his chest & fingers, pulling out the IVs. It was mere moments after they turned the machines off before I felt his heart stop beating. His body never tried to take another breath. He was really gone. My hero, my apostle Paul, my Dad was really gone.

A Fog

The next few days were a series of making arrangements for the funeral, his attire for the casket, who would ride with whom, what time to meet for this and that, the post funeral gathering where you 'make nice' with all the people who are there to pay condolences, blah blah blah. It was a fog. I walked through a faith shaking fog of despair and disbelief. I made attempts to socialize with my step sisters & step Mom (Linda), my Mom and her husband, my Nana...and anyone else who was present at the time, but I was in such a state I'm not sure I can describe or even understand myself the way I felt. Unsocial is an understatement. I did not want to talk to anyone about anything. I wanted Kory in the room with me, and nothing else. I tried to lean on Mom, and she tried (but was prevented by her ever so needy husband), to console me at one point after we left the hospital on that dreadful day. (It was then that I had to leave Mom and go stay at Nana's house until after the funeral because I was in no position to properly deal with this man.) Nana is a quiet woman, and she has been around the block, so she was very sensitive to me and my need to be silent. The way I was able to sleep was by drinking wine until I absolutely could not stay upright any longer, and even then the sleep was short lived. Yeah, there was a tear in my (beer) wine. Not the best way to deal with a crisis, but it's what I did.

A Gift 

For me, honestly, the best thing about the entire experience was the fact that I had an unbelieveably mature son by my side every second of the day who helped me hold myself together. I'm sure I would have made it through somehow, but he lightened my load so much just by being himself and simply being present. A true gift from God.

**Side note regarding this: Kory has not ever been one who can handle people being too touchy feely with him. He gives a quick hug, kiss on the cheek or forehead, but don't expect any cuddling or holding hands, etc. It's just not in his personality.

The entire trip, Kory was right next to me. It was almost as if he was trying to protect me from my feelings and the horror of the entire thing. He sat next to me with his hand on my shoulder. He let me hold on to him when I just couldn't take it anymore and I was breaking down. He didn't leave the room I was in except for bathroom breaks. He encouraged me to hang up the phone when my ex was hounding me about the cost of this trip. He was my sounding board. He let me sleep next to him on the queen sized hide-a-bed at Nana's house and he forfeited the double bed at Mom's house to sleep in the recliner next to Mom's couch, where I slept. He simply was my rock. He was just 17 years old, and he was my stronghold. He is so much like my Dad, that I guess I should have expected it, and many times I know I've taken him for granted, but he proved to me in this experience the stellar young man he was, and he continues to do so even today.

A Funeral

The day of the funeral (December 17th, 2008) was the day the snow began. Not just a little snow...a blizzard. While in Spokane, I was afforded the privelage of driving my Dad's Dodge Ram. I'm not a Dodge fan, but it was perfect for the task of maneuvering through the snow packed city. In the back window of Dad's truck in huge letters it said, "If you were tried in court today for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?" Yes, my apostle Paul. I need not go into the background of Phillip Eugene Queen to explain the fact that his existence on earth truly parallelled Paul's. At the funeral, we (my step sisters and myself) were given the opportunity to give a eulogy on Dad's behalf. My step-sister, Amy got up first and she read a passage from the Bible....the very same passage I had intended to read.

2 Timothy 2

1. I charge thee therefore before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom;

2. Preach the work; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long suffering and doctrine. 

3. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; 

4. and they shall turn away their ears fro the truth and shall be turned into fables. 

5 But watch thou in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, make full proof of thy ministry.

6 For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. 

7 I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:

8 Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.

Amazing how two people who knew Dad in different ways would choose the exact same passage out of the Bible for his eulogy. It says much about the man he had grown to become. The man he was. The man I loved. My Dad.

A New Day 

After the funeral, Kory and I spent a couple days with Linda. We tried to console Larry (Dad's companion and devout Phil Queen fan, an African Grey Parrot.) Larry actually sat on my leg and puffed himself up to snooze...Linda said this was something Larry only did with Dad, and since that horrible day, he would not even do that with her. Larry sensed the connection. We helped shovel the snow that continued to fall throughout the next several days. We decided that he died exactly when he did just to get out of having to shovel. :) I know that Dad never would have actually done that, but it was a bit of much needed comic relief after a very grueling several days. Since the airports were closed due to the blizzard, we spent a couple days at Mom's after it was all over. We went sledding down the hill behind Mom's house, we went to 49 Degrees North and went skiing. We made the most out of the rest of the visit. Kory was literally waist deep in snow out in 9 mile where Mom lived at the time. It snowed ALOT! I love snow and had not seen any real snow for years (being stuck in Arkansas) so it was a blessing from God to give me something I truly loved to go along with the worst experience of my life.

A Thought

I know I'm not the only person to ever lose someone so close to me. I don't think there is really an 'appropriate' way to act or feel when it happens to you. I'm sure that things could have been done differently...(yes, it's me, the WAY over-analyzer) but we made it through. Yes, it's been 2 years now. I don't know when or if this pain will go away, but it is strong and steady still today. There's not a day that goes by in which I don't think about him. I will pick up my phone (in which his contact name & number remains...I can't delete it) sometimes and want to call and tell him something extraordinary, or pick his brain about a Biblical topic...I have to believe that somehow he still helps me out in whatever way a spirit can help us here...and I have to believe that he's in Christ's bosom, comforted.

I miss you every day Dad.

I know we'll see each other again on the other side!



Seeking Wisdom in Joseph's Story (3)

Remember from last time that Joseph, the beloved son of Jacob, has just been betrayed by his own brothers and sold into slavery. He was purchased by Potiphar, the (Egyptian) captain of Pharaoh's guard.

Joseph's story continues in Genesis chapter 39. His life situation had just changed drastically. He went from being 'spoiled' as his father's favorite to being thrown away like trash by his own brothers. There must have been at least a brief period of fear and uncertainty for Joseph, right? Scripture doesn't specify. Whatever his feelings were, however, he proved to be virtuous and prudent from the very start.

"The Lord was with Joseph, so he became a successful man, and he was in the house of his master, the Egyptian." Genesis 39:2

God was with him! He maintained virtuous character regardless of what his own family had done to him. The Lord gave him success in everything he did. Joseph's work ethic was so good that Potiphar put him in charge of his house and all he owned! Indirectly, Potiphar reaped benefit through God's favor on Joseph. 

Potiphar's wife soon begins to lust after and pursues Joseph, begging him to sleep with her. He refuses, stating in verse 9, "...How then could I do this great evil and sin against God?"  It would have been easy enough, considering he had charge over the place but, again, he maintained his character and said no. So one day she catches Joseph alone. He still says no, even runs! She is angry and spiteful, and falsely accuses him so he is thrown into prison. 

Another drastic life change. What a rollercoaster! 

Thoughts for personal reflection: 

1. Psalm 37:23, "The steps of a man are established by the Lord and He delights in his way." Proverbs 16;9 The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. 

Sometimes I think God must chuckle at how "in control" we think we are of our life. We can make all kinds of plans, but ultimately it is God who lays the path. 

2. Joseph suffered great losses! His life as favorite son in the palace, his favored position of watching over his brothers, his family--especially Jacob,  his position of authority in Potiphar's house. Yet in the face of each major loss, he persisted with virtue and prudence. God was with him! 

3. Gen 39:2 "God was with him so he was a successful man." We need to realize that if we are prospering in life, work, etc, it is only because our Lord is with us. It is Him who causes us to succeed. Regardless what people do to try to derail us--even our own family--if God is with us, we can not fail. God may even use us to bless others. (The world was blessed through Abraham! "...I will bless you, and make your name great; and so you shall be a blessing." Genesis 12:2)  

We are blessed to be a blessing! 

4. Sometimes we have to get radical to avoid sin! I can't say with certainty whether I could run outside naked to flee a situation like the one Joseph was in. Especially if I was in such a position of power. That took a lot of grit and fortitude! Integrity is doing what's right, even when nobody is looking, right? Joseph knew God was present. His love for, and desire to serve God outweighed everything else! I aspire to that kind of faith and dedication to my Almighty!! 

Desperately Seeking...

 

Recently I saw this bouquet on a friend's coffee table. Initially, the bright colors drew me in. On close inspection, as you can see, it is made of something like legos. It's not real. From a distance, it looks as if it might genuinely be a freshly cut bouquet. The closer you get, the more clear it is that its flowers are artificial. 

That is what my world feels like since mom left this earth. I have been desperately seeking something real. Something solid I can hold onto. Yes, my faith is strong. Yes, I KNOW the Lord God is my Anchor and I am tethered to Him. That does not change the fact that I long for something. 

Of course, it makes sense that I just want my mom back. She was the one person who could listen to me think out loud, vent, verbally process my feelings--logic displaced or even absent--she could not have cared less. She was just there with open arms to listen. She patiently accepted me with all my flaws. She loved me agape-style. She told me every time we talked that she loved me and was proud of me. That I was "her person." 

And she was mine. 

"You don't know what you've got until it's gone" right? I did know though. I knew to my core what I had and I cherished it. I deeply cherished her while she was here. 

My encounters with people are...interesting. There is a clear expectation for me to function with the same level of logic, tolerance, and clear mindedness (None of which were top notch pre-loss, mind you). I should not, but I do attempt to communicate and function "normally" anyway. I fail. Essentially every time. 

I set boundaries, mainly to keep from subjecting others to my persistent grief state; my jumbled thoughts, emotions and M.I.A. ability to process. Then I fail to honor my own boundaries. Guess who would have just rolled with it? Who would never expect me to have a clear mind right now? Who would not tell me I have changed, I don't make any sense at all, I'm not joyful enough, I seem "down," I am illogical, I am ________________, or I am not____________? 

❤ MOM ❤

Do I expect special treatment? No. I suppose I am just desperately seeking a safe place...or person. Thus far, the nearest I've found is a Facebook group with hundreds of women who have lost their moms. I particularly recognize the ones whose relationships with their mom was as close as mine. They "get me." I could have written any of their thousands of posts. I could pour my heart out there, as many of those women do. They are real people, but I don't personally know them. I have yet to meet a "safe" person who understands. 

I will not downplay anyone's grief. Loss is brutal. I have experienced several profound losses (deaths) in my life-grandparents, relatives, dear friends....even my dad. I know grief is personal and excruciating in any case. However, nothing compares to this. Nothing. My grief counselor confirmed that people describe losing a same-sex parent as the deepest loss they've experienced. I was broken when I lost dad, but this has shattered me. 

It almost irritates me when people (especially women) who still have their moms expect me to be rationally processing life events. When people tell me I'm not making sense. Well guess what? Nothing makes sense right now! It has been 3 1/2 months since I lost my mother. My "Ride or Die." My best travel buddy. My first and best friend. 

My person. 

Remember that artificial bouquet? That is what my world looks like right now. A whole lot of words, packaged to (look) sound genuine, but if I drill down a bit--they are not. How can they be? People say they understand--and they may even believe it--but until they're in my shoes, they can not. It's simply impossible. 

One tidbit of advice from me after being just 3 1/2 months into the grief process: 

If you know someone who's lost their same sex parent, please do not expect them to be rational in their thoughts, speech, problem-solving ability, or anything else that requires a clear head. If you still have your parents, don't tell them you understand them. You do not. You can not. Regardless of how desperately you or they wish you could. 

It is lonely in this place. The only thing that holds me together is my relationship with Jesus. My Anchor...my Rock...my salvation...my hope. 

Lord Jesus, Bread of Life, I praise You with all that I am. Living Water, I feel parched. I need You to fill me. Pour Your Spirit into me until I am overflowing, Lord. Let my overflow bring Your name glory. I am nothing without You Lord. An empty shell, fragile and cracked. Fortify me with Your Sprit Lord. Make me like You. Precious Jesus, I surrender all to You. I am desperately seeking Your face. 

100 Days

Dearest Mom, 

In about an hour, it will be the 100th day since you went home to Jesus. You know, it's also Milton's birthday...and the day before Norvin's. We are just a family full of one-offs! 

Here, where I live, people have a big celebration on the 100th day after someone leaves the earth. The thought of celebrating turns my stomach. When I see other people doing all the "fun" things...it's almost irritating. It's not that I want anyone to suffer. It just feels like when you left, my joy disappeared and hasn't come back yet. It's hard mom. Sometimes the pain overwhelms every ounce of me. There is so much tension between being beyond happy for you because you're in the arms of Jesus, yet also feeling the deepest devastation of knowing that I won't have another earthly moment beside you. 

I know you are in Paradise. I know that you are whole and pain free. I know you are in His presence. 

I know that is a reason to celebrate, but....

How can I when I also know....

No more road trips...or travel of any type together. 

No more holding hands. 

No more 3am phone calls.

No more hugs. 

No more kisses. 

No more of your playful little pinches. 

No more playing games. 

No more sharing fresh coconuts. 

I will lament, mom. 

If He wakes me up again tomorrow, I will praise our faithful Father and ask Him to let me feel a bit of joy on your 100th day with Him. 

Oh mom, I miss you so. 

 

Isn't it Ironic

Oh the irony. 

The last time I posted, I shared a painting I did of my Nanna. A beautiful woman who was taken from us, yet she is still living. Today I return to this blog to browse and decide whether I want to pick up where I left off and continue writing here, or whether I want to just begin again. 

Why? 

My world has been rocked harder than I thought possible. I am struggling deeply. I am alone. I need an outlet and as strange as it feels, I am drawn to share it in a more public manner than just writing in my journals. Maybe it's a cry for help? Every single day I long to have meaningful conversation with people who.....who "get" me. Who understand what I am experiencing emotionally. Who I can be myself with. Who won't judge me. Who I can verbally process with. Who I can sit silently with. 

Who? Who are those people? Do they even exist? Who checks the boxes? Jesus. 

For now, I will ask Him if He would have me write here or begin a fresh, new blog to document the LONG journey ahead. Or should I even write at all? The fog is thick. Every decision I make is tainted by the deepest grief. 

For now, I'll do what I came here for today. To post my most recent painting. A portrait of a beautiful woman. The daughter of the woman in my previous post. A portrait of my sweet, sweet mother. My "go-to" person who checked all the boxes. Who I could talk to about anything, anytime. Who was the first person I wanted to share everything with. Who never judged me. Who never said things to try to hurt me. Who loved me no matter what. Who loved me the most. Jesus took her the day after my birthday. Oh how I miss her. 

My Beautiful Mom

February 13, 1950-August 7, 2023