"She's at the bottom," the nurse said about me. I thought how ironic it was that she said that considering how I felt.
I missed my Mom.
She was telling another nurse that my signature was at the bottom of their sign in sheet. Yet, it was fitting for today.
I had every intention of staying at my Mom's group today, but something about the Christmas holiday idea table just brought back one too many memories about going shopping for Christmas decorations with my Mom for many, many years. I had to leave before bursting into tears outside.
I went to the front office of my church where a woman I knew had lost her Mom too. I thought she would have some words of encouragement for me, which she did. It was comforting to get a hug from a woman who knew what it was like to not have her Mom with her at Thanksgiving or Christmas.
I could tell my first holidays without her were not going to be easy.
After my tears dried, a man came into the church office to ask about a funeral. I thought about our friends who lost their Mom suddenly, and the fact that her funeral was happening at that very moment. He was our friend's Dad.
Through a series of events, I ended up driving him to the funeral at the right church. I hugged our friends, and told them I couldn't stay, but told them I was praying for them.
When I hugged the man who lost his Mom unexpectedly nine days before mine went to heaven, I thought about how our common experience brought us close for a moment in time.
Kids who wouldn't see their Grandma again.
Cookies that wouldn't be baked.
Advice that wouldn't be given.
"Oh death, where is your victory? Oh death, where is your sting?"
Ah, even something as awful and trying as death could never take away the relationship that was shared and the memories replayed. Nor could it squelch the hope that we have in heaven!
Our believing family members are not gone forever, we will see them again. It is just a matter of time.
Come quickly, heaven!
As I sat in my Endocrinologist's office, waiting for thyroid check-up appointment, I thought about how sick Ryan was when I left him today.
I hadn't seen him that sick in a very, very long time.
I felt so reluctant to leave him at home, alone, while I went to a silly doctor appointment. I don't have a thyroid anymore, and know I need to get my levels checked regularly, but never should have scheduled a doctor appointment in Orange County while Ryan was on chemo.
I thought the chemo routine was going to be so much easier now that Ryan felt better with the two removed medications from his IV. I was wrong, yet again.
This chemo thing is tough, even if sometimes he feels "better."
He only has one more day on his pump, then he is done for the next two weeks. We can celebrate with some turkey and gratitude on Thursday with Ryan's family, and rockets with my Dad joining all of us on Saturday.
We need something fun to look forward to. This month has been tough.
Oh, heaven come quickly! Jesus come back!
It all cannot happen fast enough for me.