I had arranged to pick up the rental car at 8 am. I figured that would give us plenty of time to pack the car and get on the road so that I could check into the hotel (Mom paid for us to all have a room in the same hotel in the same floor and wing so we would have an opportunity to be with each other - way to go Mom! No easy task as there are 35 of us) before heading to the funeral home. Best laid plans.
I had wanted to drop Sugar off at the dog sitter's last night, but Drew took off with the car and didn't come home until too late for me to have the energy to go anywhere. I dragged my feet about packing my bag and was in a royal uninspired mood last night which meant I had to take care of all those things today. I spent the night painting little stones with Mom's name so people could have a memento of the funeral. I rushed to get the vehicle, drop off the dog, pick up snacks and ice for the drink cooler, but the cards were against me every step of the way.
New rule about adding another driver that sent us chasing paperwork and making a second trip to the rental place. Kiel and Andrea forgot their good clothes and we had to make a second trip there. I am fussing and edgy and just want to get going. I watch the clock ticking away and pretty soon we are in the red zone. If we don't leave RIGHT NOW I will miss my appointment and will not get to spend time with Mom. I want to strangle the nonchalance in my kids who don't get it. I want to call them stupid and inconsiderate, but I recognize the problem is me not them.
I struggle to let go. God, you know how important this is to me. But I also recognize that if I miss this chance, I will still have time tomorrow. These children are more important to me than spending a few minutes with a body. Help me to keep things in perspective, trust you and relax. I am finally able to get my warring emotions in check even as I recognize that we have passed the deadline for leaving Rochester. Ah, well. It is in your hands, Lord. I settle into the back seat and am quiet. We agreed to listen to a Ted Dekker book on tape, and that distracts everyone so they don't take my quietness too personally.
I have given up all hope of being at the funeral home by 4 pm. I have to stop twice during the four hour drive and that chews up even more time. No matter. God is with me. I watch the time tick away. Suddenly it is 3:30 and wonder of all wonders, we are close. I will be able to make at least some of the time at the funeral home. I know Kiel did not speed. It is a miracle. We pull up about 5 minutes after 4. I am soooo grateful.
The kids give me space as I enter the familiar funeral parlor where all the Appleby funerals have been held since I can remember. There is Mom at rest looking better than I can remember seeing her in a long time. The tears come. I cry. I stop crying. I cry some more. I cease. I cry again, pulling tissue after tissue from the conveniently placed boxes. I stand awkwardly in front of her casket, wanting desperately to touch her - one last hug - and knowing at the same time that Drew will not be able to tolerate that. I resist the urge.
I want to say so much to her, even though I know it is pointless. I am very aware of the kids in the back of the room whispering quietly to each other, biding their time. Finally I invite them to come forward, but they decline. It is too much for them. I do not press. I cry a bit more. I am aware that I must be done before 5, and I want to introduce Kiel to the funeral home people since he will likely be the one responsible for dealing with them when my time comes.
We gather around the table in the conference room and they show Kiel my plans and desires, show him that everything is decided and taken care of in advance. Kiel is suddenly mature and fully engaged, paying attention, making suggestions, noting the important things he needs to know. I take comfort in that. Then we are ready to find the hotel and a hot meal. I take one last moment with Mom and I am at peace. Thank you Lord for your grace in hearing my heart and enabling us to be here.
I had wanted to drop Sugar off at the dog sitter's last night, but Drew took off with the car and didn't come home until too late for me to have the energy to go anywhere. I dragged my feet about packing my bag and was in a royal uninspired mood last night which meant I had to take care of all those things today. I spent the night painting little stones with Mom's name so people could have a memento of the funeral. I rushed to get the vehicle, drop off the dog, pick up snacks and ice for the drink cooler, but the cards were against me every step of the way.
New rule about adding another driver that sent us chasing paperwork and making a second trip to the rental place. Kiel and Andrea forgot their good clothes and we had to make a second trip there. I am fussing and edgy and just want to get going. I watch the clock ticking away and pretty soon we are in the red zone. If we don't leave RIGHT NOW I will miss my appointment and will not get to spend time with Mom. I want to strangle the nonchalance in my kids who don't get it. I want to call them stupid and inconsiderate, but I recognize the problem is me not them.
I struggle to let go. God, you know how important this is to me. But I also recognize that if I miss this chance, I will still have time tomorrow. These children are more important to me than spending a few minutes with a body. Help me to keep things in perspective, trust you and relax. I am finally able to get my warring emotions in check even as I recognize that we have passed the deadline for leaving Rochester. Ah, well. It is in your hands, Lord. I settle into the back seat and am quiet. We agreed to listen to a Ted Dekker book on tape, and that distracts everyone so they don't take my quietness too personally.
I have given up all hope of being at the funeral home by 4 pm. I have to stop twice during the four hour drive and that chews up even more time. No matter. God is with me. I watch the time tick away. Suddenly it is 3:30 and wonder of all wonders, we are close. I will be able to make at least some of the time at the funeral home. I know Kiel did not speed. It is a miracle. We pull up about 5 minutes after 4. I am soooo grateful.
The kids give me space as I enter the familiar funeral parlor where all the Appleby funerals have been held since I can remember. There is Mom at rest looking better than I can remember seeing her in a long time. The tears come. I cry. I stop crying. I cry some more. I cease. I cry again, pulling tissue after tissue from the conveniently placed boxes. I stand awkwardly in front of her casket, wanting desperately to touch her - one last hug - and knowing at the same time that Drew will not be able to tolerate that. I resist the urge.
I want to say so much to her, even though I know it is pointless. I am very aware of the kids in the back of the room whispering quietly to each other, biding their time. Finally I invite them to come forward, but they decline. It is too much for them. I do not press. I cry a bit more. I am aware that I must be done before 5, and I want to introduce Kiel to the funeral home people since he will likely be the one responsible for dealing with them when my time comes.
We gather around the table in the conference room and they show Kiel my plans and desires, show him that everything is decided and taken care of in advance. Kiel is suddenly mature and fully engaged, paying attention, making suggestions, noting the important things he needs to know. I take comfort in that. Then we are ready to find the hotel and a hot meal. I take one last moment with Mom and I am at peace. Thank you Lord for your grace in hearing my heart and enabling us to be here.
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