Last weekend I scanned this photo and was struck once again by the look on your face. You will probably recognize it immediately. It was taken at your Mother's funeral. You were twenty-seven or twenty-eight but you look so much younger. Although you were taller than most women you look so small beside Danny. I'll never forget how you reacted when you found out your Mother was gone. You were on the phone in your bedroom crying. Seeing you cry made Joshie and I cry too. Even as you grieved you comforted us and told us you were alright but you weren't alright. When someone you love dies, it feels like a part of you dies with them. A part impossible to resurrect. I know a part of you died along with your Mother. I know, because a part of me died with you.
Looking at you in this photo is like looking in a mirror. My face has adopted the same drawn, tired expression that results from the interal feelings you experience.
Often I feel as though my soul was sucked, without warning, into a dark vacuum. Instead of being an open space void of any matter, this vacuum is populated by a forest of thorns. Remember the scene in Sleeping Beauty where Prince Phillip is trying to cut his way through a forest of thorn bushes to the castle? That's the best imagery I can think of. Although it's possible to emerge from the vacuum, one must carefully manuever through the thorn bushes. This is a tedious process that requires great care. One must be on their guard at all times to prevent additional hurt and pain. One never knows how long the journey will take because starting at the beginning its impossible to see the end. I am not sure if my analogy makes sense but that's exactly how I feel and I think you probably felt it too. I am only sorry I was not able to offer you the comfort you needed then. The comfort that my friends have offered me.
I think the reason I am sharing these thoughts with you today is due to an experience I had this morning at work. A man approached the desk and smiling said something like, "Amber, it's good to have you back." Assuming he knew the reason for my absence I thanked him. Then, to my shock, he asked, "How is your mother doing?" Instead of asking me a simple question, it seemed like he had delivered a swift kick to my stomach. I just looked at him dumbfounded until I quietly replied, "My mother passed away. That is why I was gone for so long." He apologized and then went on and on about how we were best friends and yada-yada. All I could say was, "I don't want to talk about it." I know he wasn't to blame but, in that moment, it was all I could do to contain myself. Since your passing I have experienced these random flashes of intense anger and frustration. Everyone says, thank goodness, this is normal but I still feel guilty anyway.
When others stole moments to offer their condolences throughout the day I couldn't fight the tears. I don't even know why I try. It's useless. I don't want to be angry Mom. I just want to feel peace. Please help me not to be angry or bitter about loosing you.
After work Joshie called to say they were going to Rupp Arena tonight to watch UK play Georgia. I'd like to think you would be cheering for Georgia, especially to annoy Dad.
Speaking of Dad, his poem arrived today. To end on a positive note I will include it below. I noticed when I received it he had not titled it. We discussed a possible title and I think we agreed to call it...
A Mother's Legacy
These words are dedicated to a woman
who was a major part of my life
For ten short years she was
my love, my partner, my wife
Our differences were many
Our common interests few
But something brought us together and
created a bond that time could not undo
That bond was in the form
of a gift from heaven above
We were entrusted with two spirits
To nurture, teach, guide and love
Though these differences eroded
our love for each other
You never forgot the importance
of your stewardship as a mother
You tried to do the things
that all good mothers do
And that's what I respected most
of all things about you
I thank you from the bottom of my heart
For all the things you have done
Because you tried to be a good mother
To our daughter and son
God knew your troubles were many
and your demons were strong
He promised he would never leave us and
during your final night on earth, he was along
Sleep, sleep God's worried child
Death tries to say to you
But with the end to this life's suffering
God has new plans for you
Life is but an unknown number of seasons
They vary for each of us, we know not why
But one thing that is for certain
We're born, we live and we must die
Birth is a time of celebration
Life is a time of many trials and tests
Death's sting is oh so brief
Before eternal peace and rest
Life is not measured by our wealth and gain
When Heavenly Father says we must go
It's the things we have done for others
That testifies of our works here below
Janice, you have sewn good seeds
as we in this world do know
Those seeds have produced good fruit
Because of this work your garden will continue to grow
God loves all his children big and small
Now that you are there with Him
Please keep a watchful eye on us all
When we stumble on our journey
Please whisper in our ear
Remind us to hold fast
For we know eternity is near
Good night Mom. I love you!
--Your Sissy-gal
In May I accepted a contract position working as an Architectural Historian for my enterprise. Accepting the position had several consequences; a) I would have to leave my beloved friends in Washington for three months b) I would live in Mississippi for at least three months c) I would miss Washington in the summer d) I would compromise my romantic relationship and forsake any hope of future romance with eligible bachelors. A weighty decision indeed.
t least improving? Why? Why? Why?"
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