to everything, a season...

Over a year ago, I spent New Years Eve at my Mother's house. The first day of 2009 dawned clear and beautiful and my sister Bethany and I received a rare gift, as all four of our children slept in giving us time to chat early in the morning. My mother came out to join us and said that her first thought upon waking was the scripture:

"To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;"

It sobered us a little as we all knew her cancer had returned, but we remained thankful for the time we had been given to be together. We talked more that morning and started the year off in love and harmony.

When I think of my mother, I think of all that God gave her and all that she gave us. When I think of my mother, I still hear those scripture words and as I go through our time in Ridgecrest, I know that God moved us there, before we knew about the cancer, to be with my mother.

"a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;"

Much of the time spent with my Mother was spent at her house. Much of that time was spent outside in her grotto and 'Mary garden'

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. Shortly after Giulia was born, Mother's work began in earnest on her garden. She pushed to place her paths, gardens and grotto where she wanted them and exactly how she wanted them. At the time, I wondered; "why the rush?" Now I know, she had found out she was running out of time. She remained healthy and had no pain, so she continued living her life to the fullest, and at the same time, she made a place for all of us to always be with her.

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I worked with her on that garden: advising, planning, planting, weeding, raking and laying pavers, and I enjoyed that garden.

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The kids love playing there. There is sand to dig in, flowers to pick, strawberries playing hide-and-seek under green leaves, tomatoes and watermelon to watch grow and sparkly, twirling pin wheels to keep the birds away.

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Rope swings, a fire pit, benches that rock and a horse.

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Apricot trees that bloom in radiant white then become a bounty of ripe, orange apricots to gobble down. Apricots, that my Mother grew from seed. As Mom always said, store bought fruit and veggies cannot compare to home grown, and she was right.

"a time to kill and a time to heal ..."

As Mom's hair began thinning, due to her chemo treatments, it became evident to us that something was wrong. She told us that her cancer had returned. Funny, but it wasn't as devastating as the first time I had learned she had breast cancer. That day, I was at work when Daddy called me to tell me. I just crumpled to the floor and cried. This second time, I just sent one big thank you prayer to God for moving us to California. Mom must have spent some time laughing at me that first year in California because I spent quite a bit of time walking her kitchen floor trying to figure out why God had moved us back there. She never said a word, but I can see her knowing smile. Something was killing my mother, but I began the healing, even then, because of the gifts that became very clear to me.

"a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance ...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;"

What wonderful memories I have of our three years in Ridgecrest. My children really got to know their grandparents and had plenty of time to enjoy them.

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Grandmama, as Giulia calls her, made cakes with her spoiling her with extra frosting AND chocolate chips.

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We had tea parties, danced in the living room, played the piano and the billion toys in the nook, the kids rode Papa's tractor and swam in the pool.

We laughed. Something that Mom believed was the best medicine. When she was going through her surgeries the first time, I remember her forcing herself to laugh, because it helped. Force the body to do it, and you still get the same results. We had such merry times. Remember New Years Eve playing board games? Remember staying up past midnight just talking? I remember so much.

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We cried too. There were fights and family squabbles, but I believe they were handled well. I realized I had grown up a lot since the last time I had lived so close to Mom and Dad. I was able to stand up for my beliefs or my family, without being childish. I believe even the tears that were shed were healthy. We cried with each other over the news that her numbers were climbing. We held on to each other and cried. The tears I will always remember most though are the kid’s tears and how Grandmama comforted them. It wasn't good enough to just pat them on the back, she sat down and pulled them into her embrace and rocked them; encompassing them in her comfort for as long as she could give it with earthly arms.

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We mourned; who doesn't think about the end, how much time do we have? It becomes even more pressing when you are fighting it daily. Every time family came together, we all silently wondered, would this be the last time?

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We danced! Luckily, with all those grand kids running around, there isn't much time to stay melancholy.

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And they do dance, if not always physically, their energy and love dances in their eyes and is so contagious to those around them. Dancing to the spinning song, or simply because they're wearing a beautiful skirt and have to move in it. There was so much joy and energy and I will always remember that and use it as a blanket when I feel sad.

"a time to lose and a time to seek;"

Last year, March 11, Giulia and I were "teeking"(that means antiquing) and we found a beautiful book about a tiger called Who's the Beast?

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as well as a little Tigger key chain that Giulia wanted to buy for Grandmama, "because she loves tigers!" We went out to Mom's house and we laid in bed with her and read her the book. She spent the day in bed with the sounds of the grand kids outside her window. Those of us that were in town were there. The rest, were on their way. That night she passed away and Daddy called us all in to lay hands on her.

“The death of a mother is the first sorrow wept without her.”

It was now time to seek comfort in God and our families. There was no need to seek for peace, as I already felt it. There is no other way to look at the last three years and not see it laid out perfectly for my mother. She had all of her Grandchildren in town for a year. Ray was stationed in RC for two years, Bethany moved back and had her second child in town, then two months later I moved back to RC where I also had another child. (Mom and Dad were in my delivery room for three hours when I was in labor with Carrick. She brought me the pumpkin pie that I was so desperately craving.)

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Vivian was in her Senior year of College, Annie and Taylor were in Boston going to school. Both Vivian and Annie got to attend the religious education congress with Mom and Dad just weeks before she died. What greater gift could we have asked for?

I find myself very grateful that I have so many siblings and such a wonderful set of in-laws' as well as many close friends. I have sought comforting arms or laps, ears, prayers and company. I am so thankful!

"a time to rend and a time to sew;"

Just as quickly as we were moved away from Colorado, we were whisked back again right after Mom died.

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Although we knew it was the right thing to do, it was hard. It took Giulia away from her Grandparents and her cousins and set us on our own path again. I guess it would've been too easy to stay in RC and just be with family. Still, I am glad we are here, even though I miss my family terribly. Luckily, Mic is working hard and our friends are still here taking care of us. We are hiking and having great family time, just the four of us.

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We have had lots of visitors too. Dad, Ray(3x's), Bethany and girls, Annie and Chelsia have all come out to visit.

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We are looking forward to May, when Cricket and her family will be out here and in June, Bethany and her whole family will be here again. Anyone is welcome! If you have the time, please come. We have the space and we love to have guests.

You'll laugh, but one thing my Mom's death did accomplish was that I finally learned to sew. Now, I know that isn't what they meant in the scripture, but it fits, so I'm using it. Annie stayed in RC for a month and taught me to sew on my Mother's machine. One of the comforts I have had here in Colorado is sewing. I have hemmed and mended many things and have made burp rags, just like Mom, for my friends that are having babies and I have projects planned to keep me busy.

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I am loving it! Mostly, because I think of Mother when I sew. I have so many memories with the hum of her machine in the background.

"a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace."
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

A year, one year without my Mother here. A season. I have felt her presence in the silence of my heart so many times. I felt her guiding us back to Colorado and I hear her so often in my parenting, but I miss hearing her voice. I miss calling her and our long chats. I miss her advice. But, God gave me an amazing Dad who is filling her shoes quite well. He gave me four siblings that all have a part of her. I seek them out for different things, and I couldn't do it without all of them. Then there is my husband and my children.

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They loved my Mother too, they share my grief, but most importantly, they share my memories. Giulia talks about Grandmama every day. She tells me that she talks to Grandmama, but doesn't hear her answer and she says she misses baking cakes with her. She tells me that Grandmama is with Jesus and watches over her all the time.

The stages of mourning say you have to go through anger, I've had that too. But what I hate isn't my mother's death, it's the disease that took her. I am mad at the fact that she had cancer at all, statistically she should have been a very low risk. I am mad, and a little afraid that this disease will effect me or my seesters. It doesn't die with my mother. The battle against cancer is a war on so many fronts. It attacks your body, but doesn't stop there. It invades every sector of your life: family, friends, work, faith... The only way to fight it is to have faith.

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At the end, I have found peace. What a life she led, what a mother I had. Her body is at peace, no more war waging within. No more doubt or fear and no more weariness. She told me once about St. Bernadette who spent her last years in pain. St. Bernadette told her Bishop that she spent all her time suffering and offering up that suffering. She looked forward to Heaven where she wouldn't have to suffer anymore; she could offer an eternity in prayer. My mother will be right there beside her, praying for us! Praying for Peace.

I will begin blogging again. If you've missed the last year, you can find it narrated in pictures at our web album.

http://picasaweb.google.com/summerdemin

Please take a look as we have been very busy and the kids are growing quite quickly!

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God Bless,
Summer