Yesterday (9-29-2008)

My heart hurts, but I'm glad the dreaded waiting/suffering is over. P. passed yesterday morning with his family around him. It makes me so sad to think that this man, minister, who touched my heart and made me laugh with his cracks about how I look like Becca's cousin and not her mother will never stand on the altar and preach at church again. How he used to say he wished he could have pink hair (he was partially bald and then fully bald after cancer treatments). How he was the first minister I was able to know as just a normal person before I attended the church he preached at. I wish I had gone sooner really. I missed a lot of down to earth, REAL sermons. Ones that didn't put me to sleep or wish I had stayed in bed that morning. My fear of hating it and not feeling comfortable enough to stop going kept me from experiencing something good.

It's funny. I remember speaking to him during a First Friday Family Fun Night (which sadly ended when a child pulled a knife out - shame too because we had what seemed like every kid/teen in town here to play laser tag once a month & bingo indoors for anyone who wanted to play). I was explaining to him the bad experience we had at our last church and flat out told him that hubby hated "pushy pastors". I look back now and think how bold I was to say such a thing, but I really think P. appreciated the candor. He chuckled and thanked me for the info and he never pushed. He and Chris talked frequently on Sundays or Wednesdays and there was nothing, but a mutual respect.

I don't think P. was perfect and I know from different conversations that he often got backs up of long time members and a few people left because of him, but I do think he was true to what he believed which in my mind deserves respect. In a world that seems wishy washy at best sometimes, I can appreciate someone sticking their ground when it isn't always the popular opinion. I also think he was honestly humble which probably is the reason why I was drawn to him.

Oddly enough, P. passed on what was my Mom's 75th birthday. Davey, Em and I took a chocolate cake w/choc. frosting over for her after lunch yesterday and spent most of the afternoon there. My Mom has Alzheimer's although she won't call it that. She says she has "dimention" - not dementia. hahaha Kinda funny when she makes up words like that.

She also takes care of her 87 yo husband who is in ill health. She doesn't eat right, she doesn't sleep right and he is still in charge of their purse strings. Case in point, she needs a new stove. The oven works ok, but two burners are out and don't work. I told her that I'd be happy to take her to get a new stove yesterday and he tells her "No, we're not in a rush.". "Everything is fine." Of course it is, dickhead...you don't have to cook so why should you care. What an F-ing jerk. What makes this even more ironic is that she left my father because he was controlling and abusive. She went from the frying pan into the fire in so many ways. We won't even speak about his bitching that her excelon costs almost 200 dollars every time she gets it filled (excelon is for early/mid dementia & there is no generic form). I don't think he realizes that if something happens to her, he is FUCKED. He won't let any help in (housekeeping, etc.) unless it is family and my mother is allowing the life to be sucked from her because she won't challenge him. It is a truly mind boggling situation and one that makes me HATE visits there.

Anyway, my mother was very emotional most of the the time we were there. She cried when I left while thanking me for taking her to the grocery store. I mean, how awful is that? I've told her a billion & one times that I will drop whatever I am doing and drive the 40 plus minutes to her house if she needs me, but she never asks. And you know I'm such a shitty daughter that I get caught up with the kids and Chris and life in general and don't just go there and do things that I should. I think that is another reason why I hate visiting. Because I am reminded of all the things I should be doing, but just can't seem to fit into the schedule I keep. I certainly am not a good role model of honoring my parent, am I? My children certainly aren't learning a lick of respect from me yet I know if my mother lived next door, I'd be the one there every day caring for her. It's just the act of throwing the kids into the car and driving 30 highway minutes and another 10-15 of back roads. Bad excuses...good intentions pave the way to hell....

So yesterday was another up and down day. It ended ok with a 20 year reunion meeting...It's just 4 weeks away and we were looking at old pictures. Just because I feel like sharing, here is my Kindy class picture...can you find me? Where's Di?

(second row all the way to the right - just in case you couldn't tell)

Waxing philopsophical (some major religious themes too)

My beautiful eldest daughter turned 14 yesterday. 14! Joy & bittersweet all at once. We wished her a happy birthday at 12:01am as we had friends over for dinner & drinks. We were still sitting around the dining room table when she had returned home from babysitting and there we sat when the clocks chimed the start of a new day. She truly is a beautiful soul although she is a bit air headed at times. Her best personality trait is the fact that she can't stay angry. It is easy to get her to laugh. She's like her Daddy.

It was hard getting up for church since I had stayed up long after the clock struck 1am. I was, in fact, a bit late getting over there as I had to make sure Becca's angel food cake was baked. Thankfully, everyone seemed to be running late. We started church and everything was normal except for the fact that our minister wasn't present (he's been there the last couple of weeks sitting in a front pew next to the handicap entrance). I figured it probably wasn't a good sign. Sure enough during prayer requests, D. said that she had spoken to C. that morning. C. basically has stopped working as P. is in his last days. The last week has brought what C. calls a "death watch" and C. hasn't been sleeping really. I couldn't control the tears. And it wasn't just about P. It seems there were SO many prayer requests...so many bad things happening to good people. And then I question and wonder if I am the only believer who questions "Why?". I hold on to something my friend Don told me once. God is big enough for questions. I sure hope he is right because, man, I sure have a lot of questions.

Oddly enough, the substitute minister (who was voted in as a temp after church yesterday) is named P. too & is a friend of our P. He is S. African (great accent) and is actually involved in a prison ministry. He also stutters which blows my mind every time I hear him preach because I think, "Wow. God's calling must've been huge for him to preach even with that type of speech impediment." While you notice he stutters, it isn't an issue while listening to him. Anyway, he preached about unity yesterday which was a good message, but his prayers were what got me. He prayed for P. and his family and for us as a congregation. He reminded us that even when things are so bad you can't imagine it any worse, Jesus is always there. Stand firm together in that knowledge. I think this is where having a church comes in handy. There are times that standing firm by yourself is just too much - too hard, but when you have a church family, they help lift you up - help you remember what is true & right and keep your eye on the prize.

Amid all my happiness yesterday with Becca's birthday and having hubby's Mom & Dad, sister & Nana over for dinner, my heart was still troubled. It wasn't noticed by anyone, I don't think. I don't want to say that I felt "guilty" for being happy, but I certainly wished there was a way to send happiness over to the M. Family. I wished I could have had them over and heard them laughing and enjoying themselves. I guess there really is a time to mourn and a time to laugh. I felt caught between the two. Then I wondered how complex we are that we can experience two extremes in what seemed like the same moment.

Life is good which I've reminded myself in more than one of these blog entries. We may have some bumps in the road were traveling, but nothing life shattering. I looked at David in particular this morning and thought he was the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on and thought of all the hugs & kisses he gives and has given me. Sweet, beautiful boy. Then I was angry with Thomas for not being ready on time and how he was moving like a snail when he is 9 and a half and a big boy now and should know how to have his things ready for school. Invariably, I always think after the fact that that isn't what I would want him to remember if I got hit by a bus and died today. Tempering my words is one of my biggest obstacles in this life and I truly hope that before I die I finally learn the lesson that angry words are better left unspoken. You know what is the most ironic thing to me? That the more I learn and experience in life, the more I realize that I don't know squat. Humbling for sure.