Last year when this day rolled around we hit the road and drove to Florida to see Aunt Linda and Uncle Tom.  It was exactly how last year…the 1 year anniversary of loosing her…needed to be.  People are different and I have learned more than ever before just that.  People are different.  And they grieve differently too.  Last year I wanted to be in a dark car on a long drive with all my favorite people.  Knowing that when we arrived on Aunt Linda and Uncle Tom’s doorstep a really tight hug awaited me.  That was last year.

This year…the two year mark…two whole freakin’ years since I’ve seen her, talked to her, kissed her, hugged her, been someone’s daughter…it all makes my stomach do flips…but this year I wanted today to be different.  In some ways it’s easier and in a whole other set of ways it’s harder.  Things are just so different and like I never could have imagined.  And it’s hard…it’s really hard.  I feel like I should be handling things better and yet, I feel like I typically handle them horribly.  I felt like I needed to be really intentional with today.  It was looming and I was dreading it’s arrival, so that’s what I needed to do…I needed to be intentional.  And I needed to go ahead and make a firm choice to choose kindness and love for today.  Satan is constantly waiting to get his foot in the door with me.  He sees my anger and my bitterness and my self pity and my sadness and he’s using every sinful thing I serve up to him to drive me straight into the ground.  I needed serious ammo this year and Jesus laid the perfect thing on my heart.

One of Mom’s most favorite things were flowers.  Geraniums being at the tip top of her list.  And who doesn’t like getting flowers.  Whose day wouldn’t be just a tad brighter with a mason jar full of flowers.  She’s been gone 2 years now…24 months…so I got busy filling 24 jars full of flowers to deliver today.  And then I made a list.  And today the boys and I got busy delivering.  I watched as the boxes slowly emptied over the course of the day.  We did some serious driving miles.  And I got a lot of hugs.  And I felt like today was a gift…not a curse…not something to be dreaded, but something to be celebrated…to be embraced.

The best “advice” I was given on grief was from an excerpt out of a grief devotional book:

When your burden is heaviest, you can always lighten a little some other burden.  At the times when you cannot see God, there is still open to you this sacred possibility, to show God; for it is the love and kindness of human hearts through which the divine reality comes home to men, whether they name it or not.  Let this thought, then, stay with you:  there may be times when you cannot find help, but there is no time when you cannot give help.  -George S. Merriam

As I look through the pictures from today I am grateful.  These are real people…these are people I cherish…who Mom cherished.  Some are new moms, working moms, stay-at-home moms and single moms.  Young people.  Old people.  And all the ages in between.  People who are struggling with illness.  People who are just plain tired.  People who Mom surrounded herself with everyday.  Sisters and aunts.  People who work hard at their jobs and take pride in their work.  People who are struggling with life’s curve balls.  People who don’t get the acknowledgement they deserve.  People who have lost loved ones themselves.  Widows and widowers.  People who are stuck in ruts.  People from all walks of life.  I am blessed in a unique way by each of them.

I didn’t get to see every person, but most of them.  I had to leave a few vases on door steps and there were those slightly uncomfortable silent moments when me and the other person really didn’t know what to say…and that was okay.  I just wanted today to be different.  I wanted love and kindness to win.  I wanted people to remember.  And I think it turned out to be a pretty good day after all.