I’ve been having a tough time of
it lately. The past few months have been
a struggle.
And I didn’t even realize it.
It started in January when Green
Bay Packer Legend, Jerry Kramer, came to my workplace. He told interesting stories about his days
with the 1960’s Packers, the Ice Bowl, about Bart Starr, Max McGee, Ray
Nitschke, Paul Hornung, Fuzzy Thurston, & Coach Vince Lombardi.
These Packers… this was the team
that my mom fell in love with.
I sat there that night listening
to his stories and looking at his pictures and watching his videos… and I
cried. I cried because I suddenly, and
profoundly, missed my mom.
A few weeks later, Dave and I
prepared to celebrate our 25th anniversary. As we got closer to it, I deeply missed my
mom and dad. I have memories of
celebrating THEIR 25th anniversary in the summer of 1984. Us 5 kids planned a surprise party for them. Really it was my two older sisters who
planned it, but we all were a part of it.
And now I was going to be celebrating my very own 25th wedding
anniversary. I wanted my parents there
to be a part of it.
Then the day before our
anniversary, my nephew unexpectedly passed away. And I suddenly had a newfound, desperate
longing for my parents. I didn’t know
how any of us were going to get through this horrible time without my parents. How was my sister going to get through the
death of her child without her own parents there to hold her up? They were our base, our foundation… they were always our sanctuary.
As I’ve gotten closer to making my
bee hives a reality, I long for my dad to be here. He was a farmer, right down to his soul. Other than his family, that was the one thing
he loved the most… farming. I so want
him here to be a part of what I’m doing.
I want to share this with him. I
want him to see this part of me that he nurtured.
We were out on our friend's farm
this weekend, clearing a little bit of land and placing my hives. It took me back to the days of my youth,
playing along side where my dad would be working. I would pretend to be “farming” just like my
dad. Then I got older and I had to help
with the farm work, and there were times it wasn’t so much fun anymore. 😂😂😂 And
now, 40+ years later, I have a little slice of “farm” that I’m starting. Yep, it’s only 3 bee hives, on somebody else's property. But it’s a start to the little
farm I’d love to have one day in the future.
And I want my dad here to see me doing it. To be proud of me. And to take pride in what he taught me.
This weekend we’ll be burying my
nephew who passed away a few weeks ago.
One more heartbreaking goodbye to my nephew, my Godchild. Again, we have to do this without mom and
dad… how? How do we do it? How does my sister bury her child… without her
own mother there to support her?
The cemetary is right out near the
farm that we all grew up on. Our farm
will be about a mile and a half further down the road. It’s going to be so close to “going home”, but
just not quite. Of course we can never “go
home” again because mom and dad are gone.
But this feels like a cruel teaser to be so close to being “home”, to
being home with mom and dad, but yet so far away.
Last night, I had a dream about
camping. When I was young, we had a motor
home, and we camped a lot over the years with some really great family friends. This dream was a mash-up of all those great
camping trips with Darlene & Sherman and their family, and even Dick &
Barb Kjos & family showed up in this dream, too. I woke up happy and sad all at the same
time.
And then this morning, I opened
the garage to start the car before taking Megan to work. We finally made it out to the car about 10
minutes later, and there was a male cardinal in all his red glory sitting in
the garage chirping away. I’ve seen many
birds in the garage over the years, but I’ve never seen a cardinal do it. Many believe that when a cardinal comes to
you, it’s a loved one visiting you. And my
mom loved cardinals. Loved them. LOVED. THEM. Was she trying to tell me she’s here with
me. Her and dad both? Was she trying to sooth my sore heart?
Tonight I had the urge to listen
to the Statler Brothers. In all those
years of camping, I would listen to one particular 8-track tape over
and over and over while I was laying in the motor home trying to go to sleep... all the adults sitting outside by the fire laughing and talking. It’s a very treasured
memory of mine. The Statler Brothers
were a favorite of my parents, and they are a favorite of mine. Tonight I felt the need to have that
connection to my parents.
And then tonight I finally realized… these past
few months have been HARD. I’ve been
plugging away, meeting each new day, missing my parents, getting through the
death of another family member, just taking each day as it came. But tonight I looked back and I saw the big
picture and I realized what a stressful, heartbreaking few months it’s been for
me. I almost feel relieved by this
discovery.
So, be kind. Just... be kind. You don't know what other people might be going through - heck, they might not even know what they're going through - and your kindness might be the only bright spot in their day.
.