Thursday, June 27, 2013

A Letter to My Mom


Dear Larla,

It has been almost six years, next month in fact, since I last sat down and talked to you.  I don't think I've missed you so much until just recently.  I know, I know, you can't actually listen or speak to me in so many words, and you can't hold me, and you can't shed a tear with me, but I just need a visit.  Is it silly for an almost 69 year old to still need her mother?  It really doesn't matter, does it, because I do.

I need to ask you some questions.  What did you do when disappointment and hurt slammed your heart against the back of your chest?  I know you had these times and that I was the cause of many of them. How did you handle that?  Did you talk it out by yourself?  Did you sit Daddy down and say, "I need to talk?"  Or did you wish for Mama?

How did you feel when your heart was broken?  What was your response when you thought you had been so unjustly treated that you were completely depleted of energy?  How did you forgive?

My body aches and tears have been so close to the surface that I've almost choked.  I've become totally consumed by one of the most nonsensical and avoidable situations I have ever had to face.  I can't find a compartment into which I can comfortably tuck this and move on.  That tough exterior and ability to handle the tough things is totally evading me.

Laying in bed last night, I think I finally figured it out to some extent.  A part of me has died!  I feel as if I have experienced the death of my dearest friend.  But I can't find her name.  I can't exactly put my finger on who she is/was.  I only know a part of me died with her.

Do I grieve whatever that loss is?  Do I tell myself it doesn't really matter?  How do I make myself move on from here?  Then, where do I go?  Do I fill the void?  With what do you refill a hole that today feels like the Grand Canyon?  Do you wait for it to seem smaller, or do you forget the refilling and just try to find a way around it?

Mom, I know there really aren't any quick answers, if there are answers at all to my questions and thoughts.  But, I do know if you were here, you would hear me out and you would pray with me, and you would seek God's answer for my otherwise unanswerable questions.  You would love me and say, "Honey, we will get through this together because that is what families do."

As I opened my Bible this morning, because that is the only source of help I know, I found one of your handwritten notes to me from years ago.  I have treasured it and recognize it as being your hug and your heartfelt response to me today.

"Cause me to hear thy loving-kindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust:  Cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; for I lift up my soul to thee.  Teach me to do thy will; for thou art my God."  Ps. 143:8, 10

"I will extol Thee, my God, O King; And I will bless Thy name forever and ever.  Every day I will bless Thee, and I will praise Thy name forever and ever."  Ps. 145: 1,2

"The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all that call upon him in truth."  Ps. 145:18

Thanks Mom for your wisdom and for being the example to us that you and Dad were and still are.  Thank you for instilling in us the love of family and joy of giving.  Thank you most of all for teaching us the real source for all questions.

Love you,
Libby

4 comments:

  1. I have to tell you with the death of my mom so recent I began crying from the very beginning of this letter until the very end. Do I ever know how you feel. There is no one quite like your mom who gets you, who loves you unconditionally, who will pray for you and with you, who listens with eager ears to everything you have or want to say. Who when you are in those darkest hours walks along beside you because "that's what families do". I am happy for you that you do have the Lord to lean on and that you found that note from your mom this morning in your bible. How it must have touched and warmed your heart. A little hug from her and God. I love this. And I thank you for sharing this with us. Blessings to you today! Debbie

    btw, not silly at all for a 69 year old to still need her mom, this 58 year old over here sooo does too!

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  2. Oh, Libby, I do hope everything is alright. Oh, I so get it about always needing our Moms. I cannot tell you how many times I have longed to hear the powerful words of wisdom come from my Moms mouth when I was going through a tough time. I always felt better after sharing with her. And, I miss her prayers so much. I know that there was not a day that she did not lift me to the Lord.

    I'm praying for you right now and praying HIs peace and comfort will see you through this valley.

    Love and hugs!

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  3. I completely get it, Libby, if that helps, at all.My mom died in 2000 and I think I miss her now more than ever before. Maybe it's because I'm raising a 16 year old and I so often need her advice. I long to feel her hugs and hear her words of wisdom. I know she's still right here with me...and I will see her, again, one day. What a happy reunion that will be. Hugs, my friend!

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  4. Oh, Libby. Beautiful is an understatement. I am not their mother but that cavernous emptiness is how I felt - how I feel - having "lost" the girls. How my heart aches is nothing compared to David's - it never will be. But those same questions cross my mind still... Does any of it matter if there's nothing we can do about it? How do we move on without seeming indifferent or callous? Why won't God fix it and why is he allowing what he has, so specifically? We love them through our hurt and pray that one day God will restore them to us. I have realized that is all we can do. I'm not sure what you are enduring right now, Libby, but I will pray that God will wrap his arms around you and fill you with his love and peace and provide you with direction. Thank you for sharing this part of you with us - it is an encouragement to see your heart reach out to your mom and to God.

    Jennifer Rader

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