Five months ago, I was in the foggy throws of planning my mother's funeral. As I went through the motions with my brother and sister, I carefully considered what I wanted to say at her funeral. It wasn't determined yet who would speak, but I knew God was laying things on my heart that were meant to be shared. Ultimately, I wrote the draft of her eulogy with my brother and sister's input, rewrote it with their edits, and stood there crying as my brother read it.
I have not yet spoken those sentiments myself in front of a group of people.
But I will tomorrow.
I am naturally a crier. I often wish I wasn't, and occasionally I even pray that God would harden me up ... even if just a little bit.
But, so far, no such luck.
So, I'm here writing... Hoping that sharing here just how hard this is might at least ease those nerves.
I have shared my story hundreds of times, and my tone is never an angry, embittered, unforgiving one, but I feel even more sensitive to it now that she has passed. I really do not want to hurt my brother and sister, or my mother's siblings, or our extended family, or even my mother's memory as I honestly share the ugly truth... Not that what happened didn't happen, or shouldn't be discussed. Because it did, and it should. Because, as I openly share, it allows others the freedom to share and examine their own unresolved pain. What I went through can be used to help others get through what they're going through.
The really hard [tear jerking] part is that merely saying her name hurts my heart. As each month has passed, it's been that much longer since we were together. And it somehow feels like the missing gets worse, as it's evident that she's not coming back and our lives continue on.
And I didn't have a "normal" mom. My mom was hurt. And she hurt others. It wasn't until the final few years that she really made significant efforts to learn to love. In the end, but only for a couple of years, we had a loving relationship. It was still effected by pains from the past, but it was genuinely good, and loving, and fulfilling. I'm so very grateful for it, but it was simply too short.
So, that is how I think tomorrow's talk ends... [Mind you, this is only the few-second version of my 40 minute talk...] With the message that sometimes we need distance in a relationship to mend our hearts and prepare us for reconciliation. And that reconciliation is a precious gift.
Praise the Lord that my heart is heavy not because of what I never had, but because of what lasted only a short while....and that I miss deeply.