“Mom, come down for Christmas, we want you here,” entreats my oldest daughter. “Stay for the wedding. It would mean so much to Mike.”
So I start something new … travelling alone. I guess it will become a way of life eventually but right now it demands energy I just don’t have. But I pack up my bag and head down for the visit.
Christmas morning I am making scrambled eggs for Lyn, as her Dad had done for all the years she had lived at home. I can tell she is touched but it is not the same without him banging pots and pans and insisting, ”No presents until after we eat.”
Three days later I stand inside the same church my daughter was married in, and watch my grandson kiss his beautiful new wife. That evening I waltz around the room with him. He is as tall as my husband was but not as solid … at least not yet. Happiness often puts weight on a man I was once told. No doubt Mike will be adding a few pounds down the years.
That evening his wife’s grandparents stand beside me. The man encircles his arms around both our waists. “What could be better,” he states, “I’ve got my arms around two beautiful grandmas.” I thank him with a smile. I have almost forgotten I am still a woman.
But it is time to go home. The house looks the same when I open the door but it has lost its magic … and I feel like I want to turn all the lights on. There is an old song entitled “Ain’t no sunshine since he’s gone.” How true, how true.
I grab my beany-bag and warm it in the microwave. Holding it to my chest, I cry with loneliness. “Is this is what is going to be like forever?” I ask myself.
My pen is nearby and my fingers move across the pad on my lap. I write and write, trying to convince myself that there is a better tomorrow. God has promised “I will nether leave thee nor forsake thee.” I cling to that promise.
