Finding joy in the day.

How do you find joy in a day, each day, special days meant to celebrate the person you just lost.  How do you convey the urgency you feel to others to celebrate the Mother they still have on this earth, what a special blessing they have and to not take it for granted.  "Take it for granted" what does that mean?  To take something as a privilege, and celebrating your mother on mother's day IS a privilege, however it's not granted to everyone.  It's not an assumed gift to me anymore, and makes me so angry to hear people complain about the burden of such a special privilege.  How selfish we can be.  And yet I understand that there were times in my years where I viewed the privilege the same way as others, it really is true that you don't know what you have till it's gone, and for some, you won't understand what I feel until what you have is gone.  The sorrow I feel surprises me some days.  Not that it is there, but how much it physically hurts.  I expected to be sad, expected to cry.  It's the awful aching in my chest and throat that takes me unaware.  The very real feeling that my heart is torn, physically ripped. 

"Grief is the price we pay for love."

"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."

I feel though, to be angry and sorrowful about this day, would be wrong to the memory of my Momma.  It is because I loved her so very much that I hurt so badly, and while that is a poor consolation it is also a small comfort.  So I will look for joy today, and I will find it, because I know that is what my Momma would want for me.  Using one of the many definitions of Mother: "to watch over, nourish, and protect maternally." I will have a lot of fun watching over my "children" today. :)

There she is gone....

Spring

"It's not the load that breaks you down, it's the way you carry it." - Lena Horne

I am home now, back in St. Albert, back in the snow.  Sunday was the first day of spring supposedly, I think we didn't get the message up North.  When I left Portland the grass was green, there were daffodils blooming and I saw the first buds of leaves on the trees.  It's tough to see Mom wearing down as Spring is gearing up.  But life goes on, it doesn't revolve around us and it doesn't cease moving forward.  No matter how we may want it to slow down just a little bit and let us handle things.  And because life goes on, I am back home.

Because I am home, I had to say goodbye.  It was unbearably hard and to be honest I coped the best way I know how.  Distraction.  I feel a little bit like Scarlet O'Hara "I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow."  I almost missed my flight, it was an odd blessing, racing for the flight didn't leave me time to sit and think, and cry at the airport.

Momma and I reminisced the morning I left.  Mom always told me that when she was pregnant she prayed for a dark haired, blue eyed little girl.  I'm glad she got me, and I'm so glad I got her.  She has been a wonderful Mother.  Knowing us both you would know we are different from each other.  Momma is meek, the dictionary defines Meek as showing patience and humility; gentle, and when I was younger I think meek would be one of the last words used to describe me.  Mom was always trying to get me to be more like her.  An uphill battle I would say, I believed that meek really meant weak.  Isn't that the arrogance of youth?  I am younger, yet not old.  At thirty seven I would consider myself heading toward the middle.  I have often heard that as you get older the more you realize how much you don't know.  Everything is perspective, and for those older (and much wiser) than I please forgive the arrogance of my limited life experience.  Yet there is something I have in common with a few of my elders.  I am losing my Mother. I am experiencing the same thing that a few of Mother's friends are dealing with these days.  These are women that have thirty or more years on me.  These women have been blessed to have parents with long lives.  I am not bitter, bitter is not the right word.  Bitterness has no place here.  Yet I mourn the years ahead that I must face without my Mother.  As I have gotten older I have mellowed and I know as I am being broken down by Mother's death perhaps I am being made stronger, and more meek which really isn't a contradiction in terms to me anymore.

 "You're blessed when you're content with just who you are—no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought." 

Matthew 5:5 (The Message)

Sheesh it's late....

It's 2 am here, but I wanted to express to everyone how much your comments mean to me.  I am writing this for myself and for my family but it's so very good to know others are reading.  All your comments here on the blog, as well as emails and facebook messages really lighten my heart.  I am sorry I have not personally responded to all the messages, it's just a little too close to home right now.  Thank you everyone, you really are a blessing to me and my parents as I share some of the messages with them as well.

Much love,
Deb :)

A favorite pic of Momma :)

Dad

My father is one of the best men I will ever know in my life.  Devon is another, Jerry is as well.   These are men I hold in my highest regard.  I have been very fortunate to have some very good examples of what a man should be in my life.   My Uncles Jim and Herb are other examples. These men are not perfect, and they are very different from each other and they are very human, so very human.  These men make mistakes but they are good men.  All examples of what good men should be, to their wives, to their families.  Devon and Jerry are young, I know they will persist.  The others are older, they are tried, they have persisted.  Again these men are not perfect, but in my life they have been examples of a good man.  I am blessed to have had them in my life, not every woman grows up knowing that there are truly good men out there, goodness knows there are many bad. 

My father is a good man, he is wise and he can fix anything.  When I say anything I mean anything.  We never had plumbers or mechanics growing up, never an electrician would stop by, appliance repairman, roofer etc...we didn't need them, we have Dad.  Dad is a self taught man.  He didn't go to school to learn these things in fact he didn't have a father himself to teach him.  Dad's father, was not a good man.  I never knew my grandfather, he left my grandmother early in Dad's life to raise seven children by herself.  My grandmother was a strong, tough woman, but that's another story.  Dad has manuals galore, and he learned how to fix things and he dragged his kids along for the ride.  Jerry and I helped roof the house one summer.  Another year we helped dig a sewer line.  Fix a refrigerator, dishwasher, sheet rock a room, run electrical wire, paint the house, change our own oil, a tire, spark plugs, brakes and much more.  Dad can do it all, he has made numerous pieces of furniture, and the house Mom and Dad live in is a tribute to what he has done over the years.  He's finished the basement, redone all the ceilings, the kitchen, the bathrooms, and so, so very much more.  Nothing is the same, even the entry way.  My Dad is amazing.

Dad has never been unfaithful to Mom, not once.  Dad has never been unfaithful to his children.  He always provided for us, spiritually as well as financially.  To say Dad loves the Lord is too simple.  To say Dad loves Mom is equally as hard.   He doesn't just love them, it's beyond my words to describe that Love.  You have to know my father to know the intensity of my father's love that fuel the meaning of my sentences.  My father has been a servant to my mother in these last days.  Most would stumble over the word servant.  A servant, not as one who is in bondage, but a person who labors or exerts himself for the benefit of another.  My Dad has been a true example of self-sacrifice during this time.  He never complains, he does everything for Mom gladly.  He gives her medicines to her, helps her to the bathroom, gets her water, shaves ice for her, brings a hot wash cloth for her face, puts her favorite television shows on, sleeps with a baby monitor by his bed and never gets enough sleep because he checks on Mom several times in the night. Attentively by her side as much as he can, my father has personally taken on Mom's care and will see it through till the end.

However to say my father can fix anything, is not true.  He can't fix this.  He can't fix Mom.  Men need to be able to fix things, there is a frustration, an awful sense of being out of control, of not being able to do one thing to make this better.  At first there was anger, and questions of why.  Now as we get closer to the end, there is a peace that fills every room.  "And the peace of God, which is deeper than all knowledge, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."  Phillipians 4:7  This peace is hard to describe but I know many have prayed for it, and it's exactly everything you want it to be in this situation.  It's uncanny and at the same time familiar and expected, and beautiful.  And Dad has been a beautiful example of love, of a servant heart, of how good a man, with God's help can be, and while he knows he can't fix this he does know with all his heart that his Abba, his Father will take this sorrow and will feel it as much and even more and will send His peace.  

         Servant Song

Will you let me be your servant Let me be as Christ to you Pray that I may have the grace To let you be my servant, too We are pilgrims on a journey We are brothers on the road We are here to help each other Walk the mile and bear the load I will hold the Christ light for you In the night-time of your fear I will hold my hand out to you Speak the peace you long to hear I will weep when you are weeping When you laugh I'll laugh with you I will share your joy and sorrow Till we've seen this journey through

Going Home

I bought a return ticket today.  I am set to go home next week and I am having a hard time with it.  Mom and Dad sat down with me the other day and wanted to talk to me about how I am doing, how Devon is doing, our finances etc...   Next week will be the fourth week I will be in Portland.  It's time to go home, I know that, but the thought of leaving is breaking my heart.  I'm not sure I know how to do it.  I'm not sure I know how to write about it.

((I started this entry earlier in the day, and left it because I was having too hard a time sorting out what I was feeling.  Later this evening doing work on my computer and listening to music a song from Fiddler on the Roof came on my player.  This part of the story is when a daughter wants to go be with her husband who has been exiled to Siberia, and she is trying to explain it to her father.  While Devon is in Canada, not Siberia (although this winter sure has felt like Siberia) he is far from the home I love, and yet, as the daughter explains that where he is, is her home.  I don't have to explain anything to Mom and Dad, they encouraged me to go home, although they love having me here.  I am still worried about my parents, I want to be here to be a help and support for them, I want to be with my Mom until the end as well as my Dad  As I said above, I am really torn about this decision.  The lyric "Oh, what a melancholy choice this is, Wanting home, wanting him" really sums it up for me.  I would very much appreciate your prayers, I need to feel peace about my decision.))

Far From The Home I Love

How can I hope to make you understand
Why I do what I do,
Why I must travel to a distant land,
Far from the home I love.

Once I was happily content to be
As I was, where I was,
Close to the people who are close to me,
Here in the home I love.

Who could see that a man would come
Who would change the shape of my dreams.
Helpless now I stand with him,
Watching older dreams grow dim.

Oh, what a melancholy choice this is,
Wanting home, wanting him,
Closing my heart to ev'ry hope but his,
Leaving the home I love,

There where my heart has settled long ago
I must go, I must go,
Who could imagine I'd be wand'ring so
Far from the home I love
Yet there with my love, I'm home.

Principessa

Principessa (Princess in Italian, my nickname for her)

"Happiness is a warm puppy."

-Charles M. Schulz

"Dogs feel very strongly that they should always go with you in the car, in case the need should arise for them to bark violently at nothing right in your ear."

-Dave Barry

There is royalty living at the Carver household.  Her name is Princess, and I am pretty sure she thinks she IS royalty.  Princess is the guardian of the home, no one comes or goes without her notice, and believe me she notices everything.  Let me tell you about Princess, she is a Rat Terrier.  Now if you know anything about dogs, and especially Terriers that declaration is explanation enough.  Most terrier breeds are remarkably similar. The same words are used over and over -- quick to bark, quick to chase, lively, bossy, feisty, scrappy, clever, independent, stubborn, persistent, impulsive, intense.

Princess protects the house from many things... neighborhood cats sauntering by, the blue jay scrubs and fat squirrels that eat the peanuts Dad puts out.  The saga of the squirrels is particularly interesting.  There is a doggy door that leads onto the porch.  In one corner of the porch is a feeder that can be seen from inside Princess' see through door, and there Princess waits.  Patiently she watches out the door, just waiting for the squirrels to come... and when they do, she shoots out the door as fast as a bullet!  She runs out the door so quickly she catches the hairs on her head and back on the door.  Poor little thing is going bald!  Although they do say that owners and pets start to resemble each other, sorry Dad. :)  While she is so quick she has yet to catch a squirrel, but she keeps them on their toes and I do believe I see a smile on her face as the indignant squirrel chatters his displeasure at her from a safe distance. 

"One reason a dog can be such a comfort when you're feeling blue is that he doesn't try to find out why."
Unknown 

Princess is also a professional lap dog, and comfort.  Mom and Dad adore this dog.  Princess really is the apple of their eye, and to be honest she is worthy of this adoration.  Now Princess does have her faults, she barks at the slightest noise, she harasses the cat sometimes and begs like no ones business.  She isn't subtle about her begging either, she will quite literally get in your face if you have something she would like to taste.  And another thing, she can clear the room when she passes gas!  It's so bad that if the living room were a cartoon, things would start melting, and I am pretty sure I saw the tulips droop just a little more the other day.  

Princess has her faults, we all do, however she is worthy of adoration, not in the sense of worship but that I do adore this dog, if for nothing else that she rarely leaves Mom's side.  Princess will go about her business in a day but usually when you want to find her, she is on Mom's hospital bed curled up at the foot or laying on top of Mom.  I have heard reports of dog's being able to smell cancer, or even just sense when something is wrong, and from what I have seen, I believe it.  I think that Princess counts it her personal duty to make sure Mom is OK, and she does a very good job of it.  I also know that as Mom passes Princess will continue taking care of Dad.  I adore her because she will help to keep Dad a little less lonely in the way only a faithful dog can, she is a big blessing from God wrapped up in a furry little package. :)

"I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands.  When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat.  For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that."  ~W. Dayton Wedgefarth