Seasons and Thankfulness

"Good morning world!"   These are words I uttered each day with my little Hannah when she was a baby.  There were some pictures hanging on the wall that we would visit, always in a certain order. Pointing at one I would say, "Good morning little bird! Would you like some breakfast?"  Or  at another, "Grandpa, would you please take me to the circus?"   We had to do this ritual to start the day right.

On this Thanksgiving morning I enter the kitchen.  It looks like a tornado hit it, and I have not yet started today's round of cooking for the anticipated holiday meal.  That would be today.  Hmmm.  I must have been tired when I went to bed, OR, there were large munchkins traipsing around, watching movies, and generally messing up life after I crashed.

May I just say that I love having teenagers and twenty somethings in my house?  There will be other years for perfectly clean kitchens to awaken to, but for now, I'd rather have them taking over the house any day.

My mom and dad moved here about seven years ago around this time of year and my mother promptly had a debilitating stroke.  I mean promptly.  Like within the first hour of their arrival by car from Arizona.

After showing them the apartment I had picked out, piled high with boxes and furniture which had just arrived, we decided to get a bite to eat. Carrying  her food on a tray at Spring Creek Barbecue, she barely made it to the table before declaring that something wasn't right.  It was  her last independent journey - from customer line to table.  Her life changed right then, and so did ours.

Endless months in the hospital, rehab, nursing homes.  My father unpacked their stuff and lived alone in a small "senior" apartment, all of their friends and familiar life back in Phoenix. He felt so alone.  Bittersweet.  Happy to be near me, but such a loss for both of them.

Over the next few years both of my parents died, along with my mother in law, two uncles, an aunt, and a very close friend's mom.  I was present with most of them as they passed into eternity.

Today is a "first" holiday for many people who have lost a loved one, and the pain of it may be taking their breath away. Life will never be the same again.  Maybe a child has moved away, or sickness has invaded every part of every day.

Plain and simple, we all need grace.  We need eyes to see and recognize the blessing of the season we are in.

While taking care of my parents I often reminded myself that with every hour I spent driving back and forth to Tyler, I was hopefully giving myself the gift of no regrets. I want to live that way every day.  Not just in a crisis, but embracing the mundane, recognizing the privilege of loving and being loved.

I'm thankful for all of the seasons of life, though some are hard to let go of.  (I would have loved it if baby Hannah had stayed at 14 months forever.  No child was more longed for or enjoyed.)

During some seasons I was looking for light at the end of the tunnel, hoping to just get through it in one piece.  No matter where we're at, there is always something to be grateful for, people who need our kindness.

Waking up to a messy kitchen?  No problem. That means there is life in my home.

Thank you, Lord.