In my younger years, cemetery visits puzzled me. Not the initial ones to say goodbye and pay respect. I had attended the funerals of my grandparents.
It was the return visits I had trouble understanding. Marking anniversaries, birthdays, holidays year after year. Wouldn’t they just bring more sadness?
Yesterday, I visited the cemetery with my husband and mother-in-law. The place we said goodbye to my father-in-law six years ago.
I am no longer puzzled. Yes, there is sadness. But more importantly, there are sweet memories. And so many reasons to be thankful.
Missing two sweet souls from this photo. ❤️
Walking down the path To where we said our goodbyes Remembering you
I did not choose a word for the year. One chose me.
I had never heard of this word until yesterday. Not a surprise since it was last used in the 16th century. As I read its definition, it seemed like the perfect choice.
Before I share my word, you need to know its antonym.
Despair-the complete loss or absence of hope.
Though I have felt sadness and grief, I can’t say I have experienced despair. I have witnessed hopelessness. It is not difficult to find. So many challenges over the past couple of years. Such is this life we live.
No more suspense. My word for the year is…
Respair-fresh hope, or recovery from despair.
I am glad it found me! Now to try using it in a sentence. 😉
Yes, I know sixteen years is a long time, especially in doggie years. Our sweet Poppy girl, always my shadow. You never missed the chance for just one more treat. And I was always a sucker.
I was not prepared for the grief of losing you. It held tight on your last day with us. Leaving me barely able to breathe, unable to hold back tears.
I keep looking for you around the house. Glancing where your bed should be. Death is a part of all life. Causing an emptiness in spaces and hearts.
In the Sun
Wet nose Wagging tail Flipped-back ear Now held in Memories And photos- Your once Brown spots Long-since Turned gray Eighty In our years You lived A long life Especially For a runt- Grateful For our time Spent sitting In the sun
Poppy, puppy
I don’t typically post twice in one day, but I could not let the year pass without sharing about our sweet Poppy girl. We miss her so…
Walking Hand in hand First day To last One often Seen as Enemy Of the other Giver vs. taker- Picture them Working Together One aiding The body Along its path The other Waiting To embrace Spirit, once The temporary Gives out Death A part of Life Not determiner Of its end- This journey Shares its Insight- Those Left walking Walk with broken hearts
Thinking of all those grieving the loss of someone close.
Heaviness Lingers In the quiet Struggles Of others On this cold Fall morning Though Not mine Fragments Of their pain Filter thru My thoughts The sky Is clear And blue From my Vantage While clouds Of grief and Sadness fill Surrounding Skies Needing To release Waiting for Assurance That it is ok For the rain To fall Even on The clearest Of days
Driving home In darkness News of the day Settled in Sorrow For lives Once again Tragically taken Sadness For those Left to grieve The unthinkable Each of us Knows loss Death is part Of this life- But for this… No words Only tears Falling from My eyes Only tears Falling From the sky Driving home In darkness
“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” Romans 12:18
A child A spouse A sibling A parent Helplessly watched A man lying On the ground A knee pressed down Their parent Their spouse Their sibling Their child Pleading for breath Calling out for Mama His cries for mercy Ignored-then silenced A family left Grieving as their Loved one’s name Is added to a list- Individuals deprived Of liberty and life Because of the Color of their skin- A weeping world Refuses to look away A weeping world Refuses to be silenced
When I was a child, I looked forward to visits with family. I was always asking to go next door to visit Grandma and Grandpa Mahar or walk over to Aunt Sharon’s house. I loved it when the family would visit from out of town. Everyone together, talking and laughing, catching up-all felt right with the world.
As an adult, I cherish family time even more. Through the years I have experienced the many reasons families come together. Births, deaths, graduations, weddings, funerals-No matter the situation, there is strength in being together. Whether it brings celebration or grief, each event is part of this life.
Yesterday, our family celebrated one of those happy times together-a wedding shower for our son, Robert and his fiancé, Erin. Our home was filled with family and friends, young and old, life-long and new. It was a great day!
The happy couple. ❤
We ate food together and played games. We smiled while watching Rob and Erin open gifts, thankful for all the expressions of love. We enjoyed each other’s company.
Lovely flowers thanks to my friend, Marina. 🙂
Yet, even in the celebration, there were also tears. Tears for those family members no longer with us. Thoughts of how much they would have loved the day. Thoughts of how much they are missed.
Our lives continue on, though we have no guarantee of our length of time. And we honor the memories of those who came before when we come together.
Today is Christmas Eve, 2019. That does not sound possible. As a child growing up in the 1970s, the year 2020 was hard to fathom. And yet, here we are.
This time of the year causes me to reflect. I remember Christmas Eve parties at my Grandma and Grandpa Mahar’s house. Surrounded by aunts, uncles, and cousins. Sharing our favorite snacks and sweet treats. Drinking lime sherbet and ginger ale punch. Those were beautifully simple times.
Added to those memories are the ones of my own children growing up. Christmas programs, music, opening presents, traveling to visit grandparents. Now they are grown. I wonder what parts they will remember in twenty years.
This year, we are hosting Gart’s side of the family on Christmas Day. They will gather in our home tomorrow. We have some new faces in our family. More people to love, to help heal the holes left by those we miss.
Although my Christmas reflections are predominantly happy, I recognize that is not the case for everyone. Many have faced unspeakable tragedies. Ones that do not simply vanish with time.
I want those friends to know it is ok to be sad, even amid celebrations. I should not expect them to just put on a happy face. And I hope they are not afraid to share their grief.
A friend recently shared the following verse with me.
“You have taken account of my wanderings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not recorded in Your book?” Psalm 56:8
The image of God collecting my tears in a bottle was powerful and comforting. On this Christmas Eve, I pray that thought brings you comfort and joy.
I also want to share some of my favorite carols. These are my own simple arrangements. Hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas! 🙂
Grief often invades without warning. This was my experience several nights ago, as I drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, my mind was reliving the night my father-in-law, Bob, passed away. Every detail as clear as that night, over three years ago. The tears began to flow.
Why are these thoughts appearing now? Upcoming graduations. Bob was so proud of his grandkids. And graduations were a big deal! Not something he would ever miss.
Ryan, the youngest, graduates high school in less than two weeks. Bob would be smiling, telling his friends about Ryan’s creative artwork and college plans.
My favorite picture of Bob and Ryan.
Rachel, the youngest granddaughter, graduates college at the same time. Bob would certainly brag to his friends, “You remember my granddaughter, Rachel? She already has a teaching job for next year!”
Color coordinated! 😉
His absence will be felt when each of them walks across the stage. I wish he was here. Such is the nature of grief.
This will not be a one-time experience. Future events will most assuredly bring similar emotions. Yet, we must continue to celebrate. Celebrate the present while remembering the past. Remembering the love of a Papa who would do absolutely anything for his grandkids.
Our whole family is missing Papa. And it’s okay to say it out loud. Saying it out loud brings us closer together. It helps us remember how much he loved us and how much we love him.
