Sunday

I've known many mothers, and even fathers, that have had the same thoughts as I when it comes to getting young kids ready for church. Sunday is the most chaotic day of my week. It's not like I have something hard to accomplish....oh yes I do. Getting kids to church.
In the morning, I get up, race through breakfast, beg the girls to get dressed and ready, and then wrestle, literally wrestle, the boys into their clothes. In the midst of the chaos of complaint girls, pouting boys, and a dog who doesn't want to be left behind, I start running a obstacle course marathon from one end to the other of the house, trying to successfully beat the clock and be at church on time. Somewhere in there, I miraculously don on my own Sunday clothes, slap on some makeup, throw my hair up because there's no time to do anything with it at all and grab the bag of random stuff to keep my kids quiet during the meeting and hustle everyone out the door, leaving the dog behind, whining in his cage about the unfairness of being stuck at home.
  As soon as I get there, I'm hustling kids to their various classes, only to collapse on the couch in the foyer and catch a breath. There really is no point in going to class. Once I sit my butt in a chair, the baby will squeal and wiggle and want to run. So we wait in the foyer. I'm doing the class a service because if I let the baby cry, they wouldn't be able to hear. So really, I'm just being a kind friend. I can hear the bits and pieces of the lesson over baby talk from the couch.
  First hour passes, second goes by. Is there really a point to going? By now, it's naptime, and the squealing has increased to a fussy scream and mainly a time for J to throw himself on the floor. Aa few moms will join me at this point. Our church foyer is baby central.
   Our third hour is the main service all together. My kids are hungry, the baby is restless, at this point L is cranky from being tired and sitting still. Today particularly, we sat in front of our friends, and behind our other friends. The friends behind us, entertained the baby as much as they could until their mom shushed them. In front of us, was L's little girlfriend and the two of them shared snacks and then rolled under the bench, laughing and talking to her. Reverence doesn't happen with little ones.
Sometime in the middle of the meeting, J decided to have a hollering match with his cousin across the isle. Eventually, daddy took him out because he was walking down the isle and stopping to say hi to each person. I inherited the job of getting L to settle down, and the girls both started whining about wanting candy or something to eat because they are starving.
  I'm not sure what was said during church, I'm sure it was wonderful. Most Sundays I wonder why I'm even there. I spend three hours struggling with kids, and I get nothing out of it. Except I do. I'm teaching my kids obedience by example. We need to go to church and letting hardships stop us doesn't show obedience. I, as a mother, am in charge of  teaching my children. It would be easier to stay home, but that would teach my kids that church isn't important when the kids don't behave. They will learn to sit still as they grow and someday I'll be able to hear some great messages. But for now, I'll just be sitting in the back entertaining babies.

Goodbye

How do you say goodbye to someone who's been with you your entire life? The one who listens to you ramble without judgement, who attends every event you invite her to, who has the kindest heart and has always been willing to serve anyone in need?

That was me today. I said goodbye to my granny. She didn't die, but mostly likely our visit today will be our last.

She loves my kids, but can't remember their names. She dresses everyday in her Sunday best because she forgets what day it is. She can't even figure out what she likes to eat. She celebrates her 90th birthday in a few weeks. But she doesn't remember.

Watching her grow old makes me sad. I just can't imagine my life without her. She's always been there. I always assumed she would be there forever. That I would have plenty of time. And now that time is gone.

I'm so glad my kids got to have time with her, making memories and enjoying some of the same little moments I did as a child. Reading to me, singing songs, her gardening hat and gloves that she wore while caring for her rose garden. She always had special treats for the kids, new toys and crayons, fun little trinkets. She sent me Valentines in the mail every year, as well as my children, when they came along. The ten dollar bill in my birthday card.

She always had a way of putting things in perspective for me, experience in relationships, or teaching my children, or trials I suffered. She was kind. She never judged. I was never a disappointment to her.

Tomorrow she leaves for Utah. She can't live on her own anymore and her kids found a home for her there. I've been told it's nice and her room is big and they are taking some of her possessions to make it feel more familiar and cozy. I don't travel to Utah often. I don't know if I'll make it out there before she dies.

Tonight I told her I would miss her. She said she would only be gone a few days. She doesn't understand what's happening. She asked me to come and visit her again soon. I promised her I'd try. I told her I loved her. I kissed her. I told her to be a good girl and try not to give her kids a hard time. She laughed. And now I am home, sitting here with a hole in my heart.

Just in the last few moments have I really realized how precious life is. I knew it already, but what a great reminder for me. As I watched my baby toddler across the yard, listened to my granny ramble nonsense conversations that she can't finish, it will all disappear in the blink of an eye. Time does not stop, use it wisely.
Oh how I love you granny. Till we meet again....