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Sunday, February 20, 2011


Be careful what you ask for since my first sentence in last night's blog was that I didn't want to go to church today. This morning my husband had a 102.9 temp so I didn't go to church. Instead, I frantically called around to find someone to watch my kids so I could take him to a minute clinic. While there, I bought some gel soles for my shoes thinking they would help when I stood for several hours in heels at the funeral home. Side note here-they didn't.

I spent much of the morning whining to myself about how unfair it was that my husband was sick on the day of the funeral home visitation. A big thank you to those of you who commiserated. Too bad, I couldn't have accepted it with grace so that my feverish husband did not have to say to me at one point, "I could do without the anger you know." His brother and my sister-in-law came to save the day this afternoon. She ran child interference at the funeral home while his brother stayed with Jeff so I didn't have to worry that he was at home with a spiking fever.

So many people came today. Mom and Dad spent so much of their lives loving people that here at the time of her passing, those people wanted to make sure we knew they were loved back. Early in, I felt my detachment begin to fade in to cover me. I cried very little, in fact, I may not have ever gotten beyond the teary stage. Even though there was only one body in the casket, due to Dad's absence at the funeral home, I felt like I was mourning both parents. The majority of the memories shared began with "Sandra and Marvin were..." For some reason, I never appreciated how much they did together. They were far from absorbed in each other and yet they were a united entity. United by their great faith in the mission of spreading the word about Jesus Christ. Their faith permeated every activity, every action, and every friendship. I couldn't believe the number of people who came because they knew me, or knew Sharon, or knew Cindy. It seems odd to me that anyone didn't know my mother. I am grateful for those people that made sure I got drinks. Kelly, the daughter of one of my mother's dear friends who paved this road before Mom, set herself up near me to make sure I had water. So many others made the trip from Knoxville or even just that people took time out of their day to spend it in a funeral home. I am touched. Although I may have seemed distant, I cherished every hug and every person that said they were praying.

Mom looked beautiful in the casket and entirely too young to be gone. The devil has to be rubbing his hands in glee hoping no one will step up to fill the many roles she graced throughout her life. My brother-in-law said tonight that Mom and Dad had always covered our family in a mantle of prayer and that now it was our turn to begin to carry the responsibility. I would love it if we or even the three sons-in-law began scheduling times to pray for the health and safety of our family. It is such a legacy she has left us. I'm not even sure where to begin.

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