Saturday, December 7, 2013

Treasuring Those Memories, When They Are All You Have Left

This is the first time I have been to my parents since Elijah met Jesus.
This first time since we have needed to provide full time care for our father. 
Now it is time to go. 
Leaving is always hard. 
I miss home.
Yet I will miss here. 
I have had so much fun with my dad. 
I always have. 
He has always, next to Jesus, been my hero. 
My farmer ranks right up there too. 
2 Men who are so vastly different. 

Both have my heart. 

I wish dad would come with me to Vermont. 

But he won't. 
And really, it's not the best.
The chaos and journey we are about to begin is something he should be spared. 
So, I will leave him here with my brothers and sister in laws, and wonderful caregivers. 
I will pray that the thief of memory would move ever so slowly. 

I will carry with me the memories of Elijah sleeping in the loft, hollering at me as I turned on lights so early to read my bible and drink my coffee. I will carry with me the memory of crazy family gatherings; loud, complete with fights and anger, as well as joy and laughter.
 I will remember during the 4 hour journey home. 
Remember cups of tea by the fire with mom. 

Endless shopping trips, lunches and front porch visits.
 Everything purple, everything structured. 
I will remember the Muppet's Christmas, 
and all that she did to share the holiness of a Savior 
born to take our sins and the magic of this season. 
I will prepare for what comes next. 
And I will give thanks for the memories. 
With every breath I have. 

Thessalonians 5:8
Give thanks in all circumstances; 
for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

God is in us, God is for us, God is with us. . .

1 comment:

  1. The first time I met your mom (and you!) was at a church Advent party, making wreaths and drinking hot chocolate. She's forever linked to this mysterious, wonderful time in my mind.