I want to thank each of you for praying for my family last Friday and Saturday as we moved the rest of Mom and Dad’s stuff out of their house.
We are so thankful that the house sold and that Dad will be closing on it soon. We had already moved all of their personal stuff out of the house the week after the funeral. But we left all of the furniture and decorations in it to help sell the house.
Friday marked the four month anniversary of my mom’s passing. Four months sounds like so little time, yet it feels like an eternity since I have seen my mom.
Friday also marked for me the last time I would ever be “home”.
You know what I mean.
The place where you always feel loved, welcome, and safe. Those memories of something good cookin’ in the kitchen and the sound of football on t.v. in the other room. That’s what my home was like as a child. I know that not everyone grew up in that type of home, so I am grateful. I have always agreed with Dorothy when she said, “There’s no place like home.”
Strangely enough, even though Mom is gone, and Dad hasn’t lived in the house since she passed, I still felt like the house represented “home”. We drove pass it every Sunday on the way to church, and part of me wanted to believe that Mom was still in there making Sunday dinner.
I was the first one to arrive at their house last Friday morning. I cannot describe the feeling that came over me as I walked inside.
It felt like home.
It looked like home.
But something was missing.
I caught myself expecting to see Mom come around the corner from the kitchen with a big smile on her face. “Hey sweetie!” she would say.
As I walked from room to room, the pain grew deeper and deeper. I sobbed out loud. I looked at the walls filled with Mom’s favorite pictures and decorations. Her lamps were still on the table, and pillows were still on the couch. The beds still had the bedding on them. She had gotten one of the comforter sets at Goodwill. I remember when she got it. Mom loved shopping at Goodwill, and was always so proud of her “deals”. See where I get it?
The “grandkids’ room” still had the bunk beds in them. She got the A to Z Pottery Barn bedding from Ebay. And she had bought the cutest little frog curtain rods from Kelly Rightsell. There’s a bookcase still filled with puzzles and toys for the grandkids to enjoy. A t.v. for them to watch videos. She loved her grandchildren! And she wanted to spend many years spoiling them to death.
The hardest room for me to go into was the kitchen. It definitely was the heart of the home. There was so much love in every meal she made. She loved having all of her loved ones gathered around the table.
These are the beautiful curtains she made for her kitchen…
She made all of the curtains for her house. She was an amazing seamstress! She also re-covered that little white chair in the picture below.
Mom loved decorating her house. She was always changing things and moving furniture around. It became the family joke. You had to be careful when you got out of bed in the morning at Mom’s house. You never knew if she might have changed the furniture around while you were sleeping, and you might bump into something. :)
And she always had a project for Dad to complete.
Change a light fixture. Add trim. Replant a tree. Put up shelves. Move a bed. Paint a wall. And on and on.
Dad would always complain about Mom’s crazy antics. But we all knew that deep down he loved it. And I know right now that he would give anything to move a light fixture from one room to another for her, if it meant she was still here. And he wouldn’t complain a bit.
But now it was time to pack it all up. And it gave me a sick feeling in my stomach.
Then it hit me. I was homesick. Not for the house or all of the “stuff” in it. But I was homesick for Mom. I wanted to sit at the kitchen table with her and talk about life. I wanted to tell her about how much the kids have grown and all the fun I am having with my blog. I wanted to tell her how Luke is the highest scorer on his basketball team, and that Eli wrote all over the walls with permanent marker. It may seem like unimportant stuff, but it was always important to Mom! And then I would tell her some struggles I am going through and ask her to pray for me. And she would give me the best advice because Mom always knew the right thing to say to make me feel better.
And I am homesick for her hugs and kisses.
And her encouraging words.
And her amazing faith and wisdom.
You know, as I packed up Mom’s things that day, I realized that she didn’t take any of her earthly belongings with her when she died. They were all left behind.
And I thought about all of the “stuff” that I would leave behind if I were to die.
And I realized that it is not the “stuff” that I collect throughout my life that really matters, but it is the lives that I hopefully touch along the way that matters most. And the only way I can do that is through the love of Jesus Christ.
I am thankful for that reminder.
And thankful for the promise of heaven.
Thankful for the promise of a new “home”.
Thankful that I will see my mom again.
What a blessed reunion! I can’t wait.
I wanted to share with you a song that you may have heard before. I had too, but now it takes on a whole new meaning for me. My sweet Aunt Pat made me a CD of Christian songs to listen to in the car and this song was on it. I love listening to it and thinking of going home someday, my real home….heaven.
Thanks for letting me share the thoughts beneath my heart,