Monday, May 17, 2010

One Month Later....

Yesterday marked one month since my Mama passed away.

A flood of memories came rushing in as I was getting ready for Church. After spending 21 days and and nights with my brothers, my sister and Daddy, camped out in the waiting room of the CCU at the hospital, it's been difficult, if not impossible so far, to get back to some semblance of normal life for me at home. Every night when I go to bed I tell myself that "tomorrow" will be a little better, just work on it a little harder. I find myself torn between moving in with my Daddy to make sure he's really going to be alright without Mama (he really doesn't want me to do that), and digging in my heels to take on my world again at home with all the gusto I can muster up. I've a stack of bakery orders to fill (11 orders, to be exact), neglected bookkeeping for Ron's business, Church assignments to fulfill, housework left undone for weeks now, laundry baskets running over, flowering plants to dig holes in the yard for, new recipes to try out on my picky-eater boys, clothes to shop for (there's only so long you can wear a pair of jeans before holes begin to appear. I'm now covering them up with longer shirts.), grieving friends and family to visit, postponed lunch dates, closets and drawers to reorganize.....ok that's enough to think about for right now! I have a full life, typically. But life is not typical at the moment. And I know it.

In my opinion, there should be a strict guideline on how long a person should grieve so we'd know what to expect. When does energy and interest come back? When do the tears stop flowing without any advance warning? I have some questions here! Somehow, I think that the answers may be different for every person......

From my desk, I can see traffic going by, and birds lighting on the front porch railing, pecking at dried up bugs and such. The sun is shining brightly through the rustling leaves on the big oaks and pines. I can hear Scott out in the workshop turning plain pieces of wood into cabinets that will be installed into someone's "dream" kitchen. Will is sitting by with his earmuffs on, patiently waiting for the planer to start up so he can jump up and do his part in the creative process. That is "his job." Ron is on a jobsite, keeping his clients happy and pleased that he took on their plans to transform the old to the new (in a few short weeks). Their reward is not only money, but in seeing the results of their efforts -- the finished product -- and in receiving praise for their fine workmanship. A job well done.

As I've been typing, my eyes have kept glancing above the monitor to a quote from the President of our Church, Thomas S. Monson. I think I need to internalize his message (I've read it a hundred times and even used his quote a few times). "....our promised blessings are beyond measure. Though the storm clouds may gather, though the rains may pour down upon us, our knowledge of the gospel and our love of our Heavenly Father and of our Savior will comfort and sustain us and bring joy to our hearts as we walk uprightly and keep the commandments. There will be nothing in this world that can defeat us. .... fear not. Be of good cheer. The future is as bright as your faith."

Blessings, knowledge, comfort, joy, good cheer. I'd say those are great rewards for "a job well done."

Guess I'd better go get busy now......

1 comment:

  1. Darlene, life is really hard sometimes. I think you are doing a wonderful job. It is okay to say "No, I can't right now" and to scale things down. I don't recommend not doing anything, though. Like you said, it is different for everyone, but if you can do one thing today then you are doing well. You will get better and be able to get back to the new "normal", but give yourself time to find that place. Maybe you should go out to lunch with those friends instead of cleaning the kitchen. Better yet, maybe your friends will come help you clean and then take you to lunch!