...away in a manger

With the recent death of my Mom, dealing with the Holidays is an emotional ride I can't explain. Thanksgiving was not only difficult, it was a teary blur.  I hear I hosted a wonderful meal but it was like I wasn't there at all. I was a huge fake.  Everyone worried (except my Dad).  My family could not only see but feel my sadness.  It runs deep and different than other those I know that have loss a parent.  Everyone deals with grief differently, but also, I had this dysfunctional relationship baggage that I am trying to sort out. A lot of guilt and misunderstanding to my grief. I am still trying to fix everything through my Dad... which is a whole different post...

Christmas is upon us.

This year even without the dealing the grief, our plans are a bit different.  We are not planning to drag all of the Christmas stuff out.  I am not even planning to put the tree up.  I am only pulling a few things out. Along with my Christmas containers, I have found a couple of bags of my Mom's Christmas decorations that I salvaged when we moved Dad and condensed their belongings. I barely remember putting them in with mine. But I started going through them today.  Among them was this...

It is my Sister Julie & my Childhood Nativity Set.  It has several chipped and broken figurines. The manger is barely standing with it's weakened cardboard frame torn and caved in.  But other than a couple of the original sheep... I believe it is all here.
My Sis and I would spend hours playing with this.  Re-enacting the story of Baby Jesus born in the Manger.  The Three Kings, the Shepperd's coming with their gifts.  As we grew up we would constantly change the setting stage.  I think I preferred them all looking onto Baby Jesus, and my Sis would switch them to look out to us as if it were a play.

I remember getting new Kings and Shepperds.  We would get them at Ben Franklin or Murphy's.  It was exciting looking them over in the store all lined up waiting to join a Nativity set. The price sticker still remains on  this one.

Through the years, through the chaos... somehow this Nativity Set was not destroyed or lost.  It survived.  Much like my Sister Julie, and I.

Please Don't Wither

The last time I saw my Mom alive, was the Saturday before Mothers Day.  My Sister & I, along with our daughters went to see Mom & Dad.  This was the first time in quiet a while... we had such a dysfunctional relationship that was nose diving.  My heart told me I needed to go.  My Sis, daughters, & niece all agreed we should together.  With it being Mothers Day, I picked her up a hanging basket of orange Impatiens, one of her favorites.  Ironically, Sis, did also, but in a different color.  My Mom was pleased.  More so at seeing all of her Girls.  She asked us to place the baskets on her balcony.

The baskets sat unattended all week. My Mom died six days after we saw her.

In the hustle of the many details that followed we almost forgot these baskets. Sis and I each took them back, nearly dead.  They both started thriving once they got attention.  Easy little plants.  Mine would have days of despair, then bounce back.   

Last night was our first real frost.  My basket had been moved into the screened in porch, but I feared moving it inside, as the Hubby keeps it so hot inside. Plants don't do wonderful in my care. Mom had the green thumb, and Sis inherited it.  I brought the plant in today, looking at how pitiful it looks.  I fear it will not last.  And it is breaking my heart all over again.   It's more than a silly plant to me.  It's the last exchange between Mom and I.

I've asked it to please not wither and die.  I'm just not ready.

Peeling back a Layer

With the recent events of my life, particularly losing my friend, I feel a layer has been peeled much like an onion. ( which by the way, I hate onions, but think this is a great metaphor). In what I feared would be a horrific and heavily medicated couple of days, when by much smoother than anticipated. I definitely was shook up. I went through the roller coaster of feeling as though I would throw up, to feeling Ron was guiding me along.
As I mentioned prior, our friendship goes way back. It also is a friendship in which my husband shared with Ron. Hubby was just as close, if not more so in some ways.
With stripping this layer off, although a bit exposed I am stronger.
I am ready to go on, and not take life for granted. I am ready to embrace what God has planned and to see the beauty in what lies before us.
I want to thank you all for your support and show of love. Ron's service was incredible. He will live on in our hearts and I am a better person because of that.