A Window into Life in the Suburbs


"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these." Luke 12:27 (NIV)

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The First Week of April Each Year

For the last three years, this has been the oddest week of the calendar year.
During the week, the husband and I celebrate our wedding anniversary and remember my mother's passing.

Celebrating our anniversary is the easier part... a child-free evening, nice dinner at a nice restaurant... a movie even. But no weekends away so far. We haven't dared to leave both children with anyone yet. The 9 year old is okay but I don't know if we should inflict 4 year old on anyone... for a whole weekend... just yet. One day perhaps.
On our twentieth, we hope. Five years to go.

Remembering mum's move to heaven, on the other hand, is a mixed bag. Bittersweet is the word I was scratching around for last night...

A friend from church sends me an email each year saying how much she misses mum. I appreciate her candor, her thoughtfulness and for taking time out of her day to remember and honour a woman she cared about. Not that I expect everyone else I know to do the same... but it's really special when someone does. I, for one, am moved by this little gesture of friendship.

Mum was my right arm and when she left for heaven... I really did feel as if someone had severed my arm. I had never lived more than 20 km away from her at any time and it was tougher than I had thought to lose her... even to such a a worthy cause. My job, the children kept me going for a time but it became increasingly difficult to juggle a job in the CBD with a child struggling with homework and maths. I was loathed to leave my job but my list of options were growing thin.

On the 6 April each year, I remember and grieve... Not as much as I did on that day. Like everything else in life, every cloud has a silver lining. I've had to negotiate my own way through the last three years learning to ride through those parenting bumps and pulling myself from off the floor when I fall flat on my face. Oh the bruises that I've received over time... ouch...

Over the years I've known many women who live thousands of miles away from their familial home so I sometimes chide myself for being ridiculously weepy about not having parental support as I raise kids. It's easy to tell oneself that it builds character, makes one a stronger child of God etc etc... but when character is being built there's a lot of pain involved.

I suppose it's self-centred to think only of what one has lost in such a situation. Perhaps one day I will have the maturity and hindsight to see in toto what I have gained.

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