The Brilliant Sunshine

This month marked the 5 year anniversary of Mom’s death.  What caught me a little off guard was this year all the dates and days of the week lined up.  Not sure why, and now I wonder if it happens every five years, but it caught my breath.  Veteran’s Day fell on the same Friday, her brain surgery that same Tuesday and then the 20th when she died on a Sunday just the same as 5 years ago.  It had me reeling in my head a bit.  It was really strange and different for sure.  And I probably thought more about this anniversary than I have since her 2 year.  Then my thoughts landed on Thanksgiving.  We buried Mom on Wednesday November 23rd the day before Thanksgiving.  I remember thinking the holiday would be ruined forever.  Turns out it’s not, but I didn’t even attend Thanksgiving that year.  I remember Ashley and I went to the movies and ate yummy food and shopped at Old Navy.  It was just what I needed.

On Sunday I woke up and I knew what the day was and what it represented.  I want to always remember my Mom, but this year was different and I had lots of feelings and thoughts and emotions that we’re very different than in the past.  As we drove to church Sunday morning I stared at a salsa verde and Snapple bottle full of beautiful flowers riding in our cup holders.  I thought about how I typically would have carefully assembled these flowers in memory of Mom, but this year they had been carefully assembled in honor of our new niece who should arrive in the next few weeks.  Instead of heading to the graveyard with the leftover blooms we were heading to adorn a Sunday school class snack table in a church we have found new life in.  A church in which all my theological thoughts and ideas don’t necessarily line right up with, but a place full of people who are fighting the good fight in the face of racism and poverty and the marginalized and realizing we all need one another, life is better together, diversity makes us stronger and the world will know us by our love.

The sun shone through our window and I sang along to the radio and thought about how after Mom was transported from one hospital to another I sat waiting in her new room for the staff to bring her in.  Right when I saw her she told me how she had never seen the sunshine look so brilliant.  I grabbed my notebook and immediately jotted those words down.  I felt their importance.  I didn’t want to forget them.  I thought how today the sun looked brilliant yet again.

It reminded me of God’s goodness…His mercy, His love, His redemption, His truth, His promises.  How He always shines in the darkness no matter what.  He cannot be drowned out.  He cannot be extinguished.  He is light.  I thought about people I know who this holiday will be gut wrenching and hard and flat out shitty.  How some of them might be just like me 5 years ago and they’re quite unsure how holidays and the every day ins and outs will ever be normal or bearable again.  I thought about those who feel unloved, forgotten and lost in the shuffle.  Those who feel unseen and how a simple Facebook post by a “friend” can twist the knife a little deeper.  I thought about those alone and left out and on the edge not feeling accepted by anyone or any place.  I thought about those who are fighting hard for something and need someone to come along side them and fight too…cheering them on raspy voice, handwritten cheer sign and all.

I don’t like to speak with such certainty about things I don’t really know since losing Mom.  I think often about my words proclaiming I couldn’t wait to look back a year from now because I knew…I mean I just knew, she was not going to die…she was a fighter.  I know better now and what I know even even better now is to speak with certainty the things I do know for sure like how God loves us each deeply and truly and uniquely.  How God does not leave us where we are, alone and desolate.  How God heals, restores, redeems and renews like no one else.  How God’s love encompasses anybody and everybody just as they are.  How God is everywhere and especially how He lives on the fringes and wraps His arms right around those on the fringes too.  How He isn’t into politics at all and probably would never have a Facebook page 🙂  How He is actual love so to feel deeply loved, cared for, cherished, seen and known we look no further than Him.

When I think about the end of this year and the beginning of the next and when I think about what the future of our family might look like and when I think about bringing our new heart warrior home and our fight for his precious little broken heart and when I think about hopefully sending our littlest back home to her parents and when I think about ALL OF THAT I remember the certainties matter…the things I know for sure always and forever matter.  I know that no matter what I can trust God and thank Him because He is Almighty…always in control, always constant, always good.  He gets me just like I am…a full on mess, disaster and sinner.  And He not only gets me, but He loves me just the same.  This Thanksgiving I am floored with thankfulness to the One who has showed me, taught me and put deep deep down in my heart His love.  I am so underserving and and yet absolutely thankful to the ends of the earth for His love and that He always allows the sunshine to look so brilliant.

Happy Thanksgiving!

6 Comments

  1. Beautiful, my friend. I’ve been thinking of you during this season. I’m thankful for you!
    Happy Thanksgiving and beyond to your sweet family! love, di

  2. This is a beautiful post. Happy thanksgiving to you all

  3. Amy Lafayette says:

    Love it! Beautifully written, Laura. I love your heart and how you share it with others. So real and raw. You are a gem!

  4. Your words are always so heart warming. Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family. We loved your mom so much!

  5. Thank you, Laura, for those words. I would like to speak those things as well.

  6. Laura – I started following your blog a few years ago. I have loved how you write about your mom because I feel some of the same things you do about my dad who died in 1999 when I was 19. I went back and read the old blog posts you linked in today’s post. I had never known how your mom died I guess. My dad also had a multiple grade 4 glioblastomas. And I didn’t realize that your mom was sick such a short time. My dad lived for 27 months but suffered terribly for most of them. I always say the pain doesn’t go away, it just becomes different over time. I am sorry they are not with us anymore but I just wanted to say thank you for the beautiful way you write about her. I choose to believe I carry the best parts of my dad in me, and I’m willing to bet you carry the best parts of her in you too!

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