We went home to Mama’s house last night. The usual first Sunday get together had been postponed because of communion last week at our church. It was one of the smallest times together ever, and we keenly miss those of our family circle who couldn’t make it — but it was still so precious. I still cannot call it “Mama’s House” without pang when I think of it.
At one corner, Chris, Jess and Josh
As a family, we are dealing with grief in a “familial” sort of way. Our Daddy’s twin brother, Luke, is struggling with a strange muscular disorder that has changed life for him so drastically. (If tears about this could fix it, believe me, it certainly would be improved!) His brother, Dan, has been in the hospital and rehab for a couple of weeks, and deals with pain on a daily basis. His sister, Ruth, and her husband, Eli, have been dealing with serious age-related issues for a couple of years. His brother, Amos, is in Landis Homes, needing twenty four hour supervision because of Alzheimers disease. . .
Sometimes I think about my Aunts and Uncles and realize that the days are running out. The ten oldest children were born in a little over 13 years. They really are not so far apart in age. Aunt Ruth, the oldest, is now 90. Uncle Jesse, the youngest of those ten, is now 77. (Aunt Miriam is 71) That’s not exactly what you would call a “young bunch” I guess. But they are my aunts and uncles. And most of the grandchildren are not so much younger. The days for us are going just as fast.
This morning, I’ve got Heaven on my mind. There is this scent to the air I breathe, this gorgeous autumn that compels me to think about how glorious can be the ending, this thought about my Daddy — already there. Yesterday morning, Middle Daughter made some comment about how excited Grandpa is to be watching over the edge of Heaven and realizing that it probably won’t be long . . .
I said, “Oh, Deborah! It probably seems but an hour to Grandpa since he got there. He has barely had time to turn around. . .”
She said, “Maybe, but maybe it seems like a thousand years. Maybe he’s had time to learn all sorts of things and explore all manner of stuff that he just can’t wait to share with the people he loves! It’s so exciting for me to think about!”
It did not comfort me much at that point. I was crying copious tears over my beloved Uncle Luke. But it has settled into my heart and made me think so much about that place that will someday be my home. I guess it already is my home, I’m just not there yet.
And when I get together down here for a evening of sitting around the table with people that I love it makes me think about getting together over there — We can sit and talk forever and a day, and no one will have to leave, and the food won’t make us fat, and we won’t run out of the favorite stuff, and there will be no more sorrow, no more pain, no more tears.
But what I pray most is that no one will be missing.