How can those words be real?
How can I never see her impish grin again? Rub her feet? Clasp her trembling hand as we pray? Feel her gentle pat on my head as I lean against her leg? Wipe schmutz from her chin? Smooch her cheek loudly and proudly, with my mom taking the other, while we tease: "What are you, if you're the middle of our love sandwich?" And hear her say, only barely hiding her pleasure: "The baloney."
Yes, I am grateful, beyond words, for her long life. For a quick, painless, peaceful passing while she slept. For the tiny Christmas tree that glowed on her dresser, our love keeping watch. For the kind and tender care of the nursing home staff, who guided her through final moments.
The tears come again, even though I know she wouldn't want them.
I can't be sad about a life so well lived and loved. I can't be sad for leaving no love unspoken. I can't be sad for a woman who, as she would say, "woke in the arms of Jesus," whose tired and failing body is at rest.
But I will miss that sweet face.
(my mom, Margie, & me)
As we approach Christmas, my heart is so tender toward anyone who is grieving or hurting. Please know that I feel you, I am sending love your way, and that grace will carry us all. And everyone else, big hugs and gratitude to you for the light and life you extend toward us.
Thank you for listening, sweet ones. Your kindness has meant the world to me and my family.
P.S. I've postponed the launch of Sprout: Simplicity from Saturday until the 22nd. Please visit Sprout's main site for more information or to pre-order your copy. Thank you for your understanding as I take this time to process and remember my beloved Marge.