Today has been challenging. I took Linda for her GYN appointment. There is something so wrong about holding down a blind, handicapped person so a doctor can do what must feel like such a violation to her. She has a noise that she makes when any medical procedure is going on that she doesn’t like. Ethel once said that it sounded like a wounded rabbit, and I haven’t been able to think of any other way to describe it. I hate to be participant to any of it, but I also hate to abandon her in her hour of need. And then she tested positive for hemo. So now she is going to need a colonoscopy. JOY of all JOYS. Yes, well.
I brought her home to load a dishwasher, and get her some lunch. Then the two of us went out to Mama’s to take care of some bills and banking. Daddy always balanced the checkbook for Mama. I sat there and looked at his neat figures, and his distinct way of balancing the checkbook, and murmured against myself at my large numbers and my way of balancing a checkbook and felt inadequate against my mother’s loss. Her tears were so close today, and I felt like I had been the perpetuator when I inadvertently brought some pictures that I had printed out for my brother and they got mixed in a stack that I had brought for her. Clint had expressed an interest in a picture of Daddy and his brothers and I had another one that I thought was so good, so I printed them both and when Mama was leafing through Clint’s stack, she came unexpectedly upon them, and it was a jolt to an already fragile composure. She is so small since her surgery last April, and since Daddy died, she isn’t eating enough. I saw her standing by the table, tears streaming down her cheeks, and knew that nothing any of us could say or do would really make it better. Even my pain beside hers looks so piddly. . . When I am there, I feel his absence so much more, and it makes me realize what she lives with all the time.
I talked to her today about how good it was that we had him so long. And I told her that it is hard to believe that someone who was so “Alive” right up to the end could be so “dead.” Now don’t go jumping to any quick responses here. I know he is more alive than he has ever been. I know that we shall see him again. I know that what we put into the ground was only his shell. So no one go telling me that I am not being spiritual or scriptural here. I’m not talking about his spirit or eternal life. The Daddy we knew, the body that we called “Daddy” and what embodied “Mark Yoder” to us — THAT body is dead. We shall never know it again as we have known it. That seems pretty final right now. And you know what? It’s hurting tonight.
Anyhow, I needed to come home because Certain Man and I had an appointment with the accountant in Lewes. We had a good time together, even with my subdued state, (we even used a Cracker Barrel gift certificate for supper! That was cheap!) When we got home, I came across this picture of two of my favoritest young men. I thought about Christmas Eve, and how hard it was for us. But, as this picture depicts, it was not all gloom and sorrow. We had laughter and good memories and a sweet, sweet time together as a family. Bitter sweet? Yes, you really could say that. But as every day passes, I am more and more aware that this is what life is all about. The laughter and the tears, the grief and the grace, the living and the dying, all mixing together to make the fabric of what is human experience.
And I am so glad that the ONE who is weaving the fabric sees the “right” side and He has a pattern and plan. I have often said that our lives are like a tapestry in the making. We see this side — with its knots and skips and “stray” threads, and we often feel the needle! But Someday, Some Glorious day, we are going to see the “other side” and it is all going to be beautiful. And what’s more, it’s going to make sense!
What a Day that will be!