He is driven by hope.
I got home on Tuesday evening after five beautiful days with family in Oklahoma and Texas. Oh my goodness. I had such an amazing time. My sister Tami picked me up from the airport the previous Thursday and together the two of us drove/rode to Oklahoma City to visit my dad (and Jo) who is in the hospital there due to a hip replacement surgery. Then we went on to my mom's where we stayed until Sunday evening. My other sister Lori joined us and it was an absolutely glorious time. I am pretty sure that's the first time we three girls have gotten together at my parents'--just the three of us, no men, no kids--since I got married almost 27 years ago.
My dad came home from the hospital on Friday evening and so at that point, we shuffled between the two homes, doing that parental dance we do every time we go home as my parents live a whopping ten miles apart. But somehow in the midst of all of that, I ended up at my mom's--just me--on Saturday evening. Because it was Memorial Day weekend, we drove to my mom's parents' cemetery where she talked about those who have gone before us--sharing tidbits of their lives with me. And then we went on to the little cemetery out in the countryside where my precious Ciara is buried next to my dad's parents. We decorated her grave with toys and a stuffed lamb that has survived since her death 21 years ago.
And then? We went home and Mom and I went for a walk so that we could see the sunset. I absolutely adore North Carolina. It's gorgeous here--unspeakable beauty. But I sure do miss an Oklahoma sunset where the sky wakes up with streaks of golds and pinks at the end of the day. And so, determined to revel in one of Oklahoma's finest attractions, we set out for the edge of town where one can see for miles with little distraction but a winding road and endless prairie.
That time with my mom will go down as one of my favorite memories.
On Sunday evening, Tami and I once again said our goodbyes to Dad and Jo as we headed back to Texas. After I hugged my dad, tears streaming down my face and choking back sobs, he reached out and touched my leg. "Love you," he said.
"I'll see you at Christmas, Dad."
I could go on sharing snippets of everyone in my family: how when I arrived at Tami's my beautiful, sweet niece Cass made a bed for me in her room; how Caleb played the guitar and sung his heart out; how Courtney and Cass giggled and shared together as they created a photo album of their year together at school and uploaded it to Facebook; how Jared shared his heart with me--my precious beautiful nephew whom I adore so much; how Chas hugged me so tightly as though he never wanted to let go when we said our good-byes...
There is nothing like family.
Yesterday Roy and I drove to Home Depot and bought flowers--begonias and petunias and impatiens and lilies and daisies. Purples and yellows and whites and pinks. A splash of color in my yard. In a few weeks, after they have grown and spread their wings a bit, my garden will be alive with summertime.
Yesterday we were walking through Kohl's, getting Jace black pants and shoes for his Pathfinder outfit, when suddenly Jace stopped. He said, "Mom, I've been thinking. Everything that happens? As soon as it happens, it's in the past. Like what I just said? It's in the past already."
I said, "That's right, Jace. That's why we have to learn to enjoy every moment. We have to make everything count because life flies by."
And so? We have to build our lives on hope. I am brimming with hope today. I have hope that I will go home to Oklahoma again and see both of my parents. I will walk the narrow roads with my mom. I will hug my dad and tell him I love him again. I will see my nieces and nephews who are so dear to my heart, and relish these moments of watching them forge their own way as they near adulthood. I will laugh with my sisters who know me like the backs of their hands and love me anyway...again.
And someday I will see my sweet Ciara...again.
I have hope that my yard will flourish with blooming flowers this summer. I have hope for laughter and joy and kindness shared and kindness given. I have hope for brighter days after tragedies and family gatherings that ebb and flow.
And so, dear Piper, here you go. I'll throw the ball for you so that you can keep on dreaming and building your life on hope.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
-Emily Dickinson
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