Send me a Sign…

pinksun 015

The events and happenings leading up the memorial service are all a blur, each molding into the other – each becoming a part of the other. Throughout this time I phoned or visited my dad everyday – all except one day. I don’t remember what day that was or what I was doing on that day – I just know there was one day I didn’t have contact with him. I have not missed a day since.

I had a list of people that needed to be called, relatives that I had not talked to in years. I made the calls and chatted with them all for a short time. I don’t remember the conversations, or even who I talked to. I just worked my way down the list.

“A pink flower” Jamie said, as his eyes gazed upon a tiny pink flower that had floated down in the breeze to land in front of me as we sat outside a local restaurant. “Pretty I replied to him”. He looked around where we were sitting, there were no pink flowered plants anywhere. I touched the flower, then gently picked it up and put it in my purse. As Jamie and I chit chatted my mind Continued on with the flash movies that had started to play in my mind. Movie clips from my childhood, just brief moments of happenings over the years. My heart cried out for a sign that mom was ok.

“It is starting to rain mom” my eldest daughter said to me as we sat outside on the big deck. After 40 degree Celsius weather we had been having the rain felt nice. I don’t know how long we sat out there, but the rain became heavier, water was collecting on the deck floor. I wanted to sit there in silence forever… A rainbow formed, then another on top of it, so it became a double rainbow. “You should take a picture of it mom” my eldest daughter said to me. “I should but I just don’t have the energy” I replied back. We continued to watch the sky. “It is really raining my eldest said” Fighting my way out of the fog long enough to look at my daughter I noticed how wet she was becoming – “yes let’s go to the covered deck” I told her. The clouds rumbled, lightening started to flash, and the sky went from a green color to a bright pink. My heart cried out for a sign that mom was ok.

“Let me know if there is anything I can do to help – I can clean, and cook for the memorial” This line was repeated over and over to me by several people. “I’m ok” I would respond. “Promise me you will let me know” – “I will, I’m ok” I would respond back. I did not have the energy to accept their help. I did not have the energy to tell them what I needed. In fact I did not know what I needed, and my brain would not function well enough to organize their help. It was easier just to tell them I’m ok. They accepted my answer, I think wanting to believe me.

“This rose bush has gone crazy” I stated simply to Jamie. The rose bush I was talking about was the peach colored flowers rose bush that my youngest daughter had given me for mother’s day. I had it in a pot on the big open deck, waiting for fall to plant it. It was on its second blooming for the season. But instead of peach flower as it had during its first bloom, the rose bush was covered with pink roses. By covered I mean there were so many flowers you couldn’t hardly see the leaves. “Yes it has” replied Jamie to my statement. My heart cried out for a sign that mom was ok.

The memorial needs to be pink I thought to myself. “I have made a list of flowers for the memorial, can you order them” I said to Jamie as I handed him the list. He did. “We need to clean and organize the house for the people that will be here for the memorial luncheon” Thoughts spoken out loud. Somehow the house got organized, rearranged and cleaned. Jamie was my rock at this time, if I mentioned we should do something he dug in silently and got it done – he moved books and book shelves, computers and computer tables – he cleaned and organized, he was only a footstep away from me at any given time – He was and continues to be my strength. I kept busy – there was a lot to do. The library got converted from library to craft room; the empty room upstairs got converted to a library sitting room. My office was rid of the extra computer and became my office again, with the other computer located to the library sitting room upstairs. Every ornament was taken down and washed – each picture dusted and replaced. Plants were watered and dead leaves removed. Floors were swept, vacuumed, and washed. Memories were revisited, relived. The flash movies kept playing in my head.

“What day is it?” I would often ask Jamie, and he would reply with patience the day of the week. “Everyone should wear pink” a statement that I am sure came out of the blue – but Jamie did not question it, nor did he question the several pink shirts I bought over the course of several trips to town, each a bit different pink that the one before. He helped me find pink ties – one for him, Benjamin, my brother and my dad. In my fog my brain had found a mission, a reason to keep on keeping on.

During all this time I would take moments out of the day to write – snippets of information about my mom to give to Fred Massey for the memorial. “I need you to write something about grandma” I told my kids “memories of things – I need them for the memorial” They all had a hard time with this, but I knew in my heart they needed to try. They needed to remember. Even If what they wrote was never used, they needed to think about it. Each walked down the memory road in their own way – some verbally, some with written text. This I think was a way for me to be there for them, when I couldn’t be.

“Mom” I would often whisper silently – “please send me a sign that you are ok, and please help me put together the memorial in the right way – in a way that they will understand”.

Published in: on August 22, 2009 at 6:48 am  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. One of God’s greatest gifts is a loving husband. Another is all the little signs, even if we don’t see them right away.

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