Last night when many of my dear friends were lighting candles on Worldwide Candlelighting Day in honor of their precious children who ran ahead to heaven, I was sitting in the Michaels parking lot bracing myself for the crowds inside. Andrew loved the red, gold and silver jumbo ornaments I bought last week to hang in our Dogwood tree, but he was hoping for some green ones, so back to the store I went. When I realized I had missed lighting a candle, I shrugged my shoulders and smiled, because I know that we cannot disappoint our loved ones in Heaven. Their response to us is Love, pure LOVE.
My candle is lit now, as I type and look at the winter rain outside my window.
Lighting a candle is a beautiful way to slow down and honor them and to say, "You are loved, you are missed, you are never forgotten." Braving the crowds at Michaels is a way of saying, "I'm still standing, I'm still trying, your little brother really loves Christmas." Both are valid, and both are beautiful. Isn't it wonderful to know our loved ones are cheering us on in the quiet, reflective moments and the hectic ones too?
Love never dies.
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Recently, "Songbird" came on in the car and I told my husband it reminded me of being pregnant with my little boy who is now in heaven because I would play that song nonstop. I was looking through an old post about how I got into that song (hint: Glee) and I pulled up the lyrics:
For you, there'll be no more crying.
For you, the sun will be shining.
...
And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score.
And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before.
And I wish you all the love in the world.
But most of all, I wish it from myself.
So that is my hope, through Jesus that he is in the best hands.
God Bless!
My mom passed away 4 years ago - July 9th. Every July 9th, I wake up and remember her and the day feels hard and heavy. This year I woke up and went about the busy day (we were camping) and realized at the end of it that I didn't even realize it was July 9th! For a minute I felt terrible - that we hadn't some how honored this very significant day - but then I just felt really grateful. Grateful because it wasn't that I didn't think of my mom that day - I think of her 100 times a day everyday, grateful that on what was such a terrible day 4 years ago I wasn't just surviving it anymore. Grateful that I am able to remember her life and not just her death.
I completely agree what a beautiful thing it is to realize you are still standing, even thriving. Love never dies.
Beautiful post! Thank you for sharing!
Thanks so much for this post. It comes as a blessing to me as I grapple with trying to pull together Christmas for my children, while grieving the loss of my brother and what will be my first Christmas without him. In the face of loss, the tasks that consume our lives during this Christmas season (the hanging of lights, setting up of a tree, trips to mall) all seem futile and only seem to be taking away precious time from our grieving process. I'm glad however that you've offered a different perspective through this post - that these acts are not meaningless, but a demonstration of our love for the ones we've lost and our willingness to persevere. Thanks for that. I'll push on in the weeks ahead to make Christmas happen for my children (each a blessing which I know are not promised) and will be sure to light a candle each day in memory of my brother.
💙 Loved, missed, remembered always.
Oh how I hope I get there. Just had my mom's one year this week.
I just lost my Dad not even 2 weeks ago.
He was 91 and in good health for that age...he was younger than hisvyears... as well as my Mom.
Within 6 months or so with a fall and fracture to his spine be was in rehab and did quite well. As he is a very active person he didn't always handle his age gracefully and was a hard head and still tried to do things he should not which lead to more falls...each time he recovered quite well. He has had orthostatic hypotension and has dealt with it with his Dr.
Then at Christmas tume this year he just fainted at the dining room table and my mom quickly call 911 and he was sent to the hospital.
I just thought he is probably dehydrated and will get IVs and will perk up and come home within a couple days.
I was wrong and the disaster started and I was loosing my Dad.
His orthostatic hypotension was much worse and he could not walk and was a huge fall risk and was extensively evaluated for PT and could not walk again.
Fast forward a bit...this was a huge blow to my Mom sister and i.
He came home on hospice care.
He was in pain and became agitated and wanted to walk..
My mom kept her promise that she would never place my Dad in a nursing home.
We all helped out and he had care around the clock with my sister and I assisting and supporting my Mom.
I find myself asking still what happened and why did he have to die ??
My Father's Dr explained that orthostatic hypotension is a systemic issue and eventually this would not be a good outcome.
I am having a difficult time and I feel lost.
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