A Letter to You...

After Mom's Funeral, I sent out over 300 of those letters about mom.

At the time, I was with Campus Crusade and sending out a monthly newsletter. I sent them to friends and family and to my support team. I wrote a note on each of them. To those who knew her, I reminded them what they meant to my mom and thanked them for their kindness to her. For those who did not know her, I thanked them for their prayers for her and our family.

I meant to send one to each and everyone of you,
my brothers and sisters,
nieces and nephews.
But every time I sat down to do it, I couldn't get past the tears.

So I thought, I'll do it on the one year anniversary, maybe it will be easier then.

Then the second, the fifth and now here it is, the tenth.

And even now, on the "remembering Helen" Sunday nite, before I played the new show,
Susie said "are you going to say something?"
And I couldn't.
I wanted to, but I just couldn't hold back the tears.

So as Susie said on her blog on the 9th, "Here's what I wanted to say last night."

Well, here's what I wanted to say 10 years ago. 5 years ago. Sunday nite.

Mostly, I just wanted to remind you of how much she loved each and every one of you.

Being the baby and the last to show up and the last to leave home,
I may not have the same memories as you.

I'll never know what it was like to have 5 siblings under ten years old, in the house at the same time, but I do have memories.
Different memories.
Memories of seeing you move out and start your own lives, your own marriages and your own families. And I have the memory of how happy she was for you and how proud you all made her. I got to see how her face lit up when you pulled in the driveway, or how her voice rose in pitch when she was on the phone with you. I got to be there when she worried over your job change or your sick child. I got to watch her plan out her Halloween and Christmas gifts and put them together with love and care. I knew there would be a Valentine in your mailbox in February. I got to see her hold you, her grandchild, for the first time or smile and laugh at you when you learned to crawl, walk, and talk. I got to see her clip your name out of the paper, highlight it and file it away for the future. I heard the conversations about how there was no way she was ever going to go to Florida before Christmas or stay past May and I knew it was because of you.
Later after I moved away, no matter where I was living or how long it had been since I talked to you, I got to hear over the phone, a detailed weekly update on each one of you, distilled with the care and concern and joy she felt over your latest news.
I understood and was privileged to see how very much she loved you. And it grounded me and blessed my life.

And I got to see how much you loved her. I got to see how your love gave her strength. I got to see how knowing you loved and needed her, gave her the will to hold on and to bear all that came her way. And in the end, I knew how hard it was for her to go for our sakes, but even then I knew she was ready and willing to go when He took her hand.

I'm so glad I know her story.
Their story.
And I count it a privilege to be able to tell their story and now our story.

And best of all, as our family grows...as your family grows, I get to see their story repeated. As I watch you, their children, step into the same role they played in our lives;
you now play that same role in your children's lives and in your grand children's lives.
You, just like them, are living out and creating your own stories and as you do,
the circle continues.

Is there anything more beautiful?
Is there anything more descriptive of that circle of strength and love that we all believe in so dearly?

I love to tell the story!