Hugs from Heaven
Finding uninterrupted time to write has been challenging, to say the least. I started the year with a goal to write something -- anything -- each day in one of my journals or on the blog.
I last posted here on February 8th, Mom's birthday.
I am doing a stellar job.
The last time I wrote something to my mom was on March 19th while I was sitting under the heater at the salon waiting for my color to set. It was a rather odd place to pull out my "mom journal" and pen some thoughts, but I overheard the gal next to me talking about her mom and I just had to jot some things down.
The specific words I overheard were, "Got to keep her healthy while I can! I don't know what I'd ever do without my mom. I just can't even imagine."
I don't think this woman knew the weight of her own words.
I have to admit, it is difficult for me to see people still enjoying life with their mamas. Talking about their mamas. Going on outings or talking on the phone. Hugging. I'm almost jealous even. I get daily reminders that my mom is no longer here while so many other moms are.
It really hurts sometimes, and it makes me so sad seeing some moms being taken for granted. Puts a whole new meaning to the phrase, "You never know what you have until it's gone."
I posted on Facebook the other day that I didn't think my mom's spirit had been around much. I hadn't seen any "signs" and my regular flock of birds had been MIA for quite awhile. I always looked forward to peeking out the back door and spotting my cardinals and blue jays, but their presence had been nonexistent. I looked up at the sky (like I do so often anymore) and I think I muttered something like, "Where are you? I miss you." And then the very next day, I received a male and female cardinal while I was sitting in my van in the driveway.
Why can't I trust that she's still with me, even if I'm not always seeing her signs?
Holy Week last week brought about an entirely new set of feelings I had yet to experience on my grief journey. It's emotional enough thinking about Jesus and what he went through for us, but to add thoughts of my mom to the mix was a kick in the gut.
But then Easter morning came, complete with 2 inches of snow on the ground. Our first snow all winter. And as I got up that morning to get ready for church, I felt this calming presence all around me. I'm usually dead to the world at 6:30 in the morning, but not that morning. I was up, I was with it, I was ready to face the day, even in the midst of my sadness.
I knew my mom was there.
And when we sang our cantata at church, and I sang my solos, I knew my mom was there.
And when my girls were opening their Easter baskets and hunting eggs and enjoying the day, I knew my mom was there.
I just felt her all around us all day long. Really felt her, in the pit of my soul.
And I wasn't sad.
Which brings me to today. If there's one thing I miss the most about my mom, it's her hugs. I can receive hugs from people all day long, and none of them comes close to a hug from her. So I looked up at the sky and said, "I need a hug." I wasn't expecting anything in return, just putting it out there that I was missing her hugs.
Not 10 seconds later, five blue jays flew over the fence and landed at the feeder. Five. All at once. I ran to get my camera, but by the time I returned, only two were left. Those blue jays are a bit skittish. They didn't sit still long enough for me to snap any pictures.
But as they were flitting about, in and out of the hedge, a male and female cardinal appeared. I can only assume these were the same two birds I saw last week. They were calling to each other, hopping from branch to branch. But they stayed in the yard. I watched them for awhile, snapping a few photos, and then the female decided to move to the front yard. The male followed shortly after, and so did I.
They were perfectly content to hang with me, let me take their pictures, let me talk to them.
They were my hug from Heaven.
It obviously wasn't a physical, touching kind of hug, but their presence comforted me and warmed my heart just like a regular hug would.
I relished it. I took it all in.
Then I realized I had a napping baby I needed to check on and two preschoolers who needed to be picked up. Back to reality.
I really can get caught up in the moment with those birds.
But I'm glad I have them, because they are proof that even though my mom is no longer physically present in my life, I know she's still here, watching over me and my family every day, giving us little hugs from Heaven.
And I'll never take them for granted...
I last posted here on February 8th, Mom's birthday.
I am doing a stellar job.
The last time I wrote something to my mom was on March 19th while I was sitting under the heater at the salon waiting for my color to set. It was a rather odd place to pull out my "mom journal" and pen some thoughts, but I overheard the gal next to me talking about her mom and I just had to jot some things down.
The specific words I overheard were, "Got to keep her healthy while I can! I don't know what I'd ever do without my mom. I just can't even imagine."
I don't think this woman knew the weight of her own words.
I have to admit, it is difficult for me to see people still enjoying life with their mamas. Talking about their mamas. Going on outings or talking on the phone. Hugging. I'm almost jealous even. I get daily reminders that my mom is no longer here while so many other moms are.
It really hurts sometimes, and it makes me so sad seeing some moms being taken for granted. Puts a whole new meaning to the phrase, "You never know what you have until it's gone."
I posted on Facebook the other day that I didn't think my mom's spirit had been around much. I hadn't seen any "signs" and my regular flock of birds had been MIA for quite awhile. I always looked forward to peeking out the back door and spotting my cardinals and blue jays, but their presence had been nonexistent. I looked up at the sky (like I do so often anymore) and I think I muttered something like, "Where are you? I miss you." And then the very next day, I received a male and female cardinal while I was sitting in my van in the driveway.
Why can't I trust that she's still with me, even if I'm not always seeing her signs?
Holy Week last week brought about an entirely new set of feelings I had yet to experience on my grief journey. It's emotional enough thinking about Jesus and what he went through for us, but to add thoughts of my mom to the mix was a kick in the gut.
But then Easter morning came, complete with 2 inches of snow on the ground. Our first snow all winter. And as I got up that morning to get ready for church, I felt this calming presence all around me. I'm usually dead to the world at 6:30 in the morning, but not that morning. I was up, I was with it, I was ready to face the day, even in the midst of my sadness.
I knew my mom was there.
And when we sang our cantata at church, and I sang my solos, I knew my mom was there.
And when my girls were opening their Easter baskets and hunting eggs and enjoying the day, I knew my mom was there.
I just felt her all around us all day long. Really felt her, in the pit of my soul.
And I wasn't sad.
Which brings me to today. If there's one thing I miss the most about my mom, it's her hugs. I can receive hugs from people all day long, and none of them comes close to a hug from her. So I looked up at the sky and said, "I need a hug." I wasn't expecting anything in return, just putting it out there that I was missing her hugs.
Not 10 seconds later, five blue jays flew over the fence and landed at the feeder. Five. All at once. I ran to get my camera, but by the time I returned, only two were left. Those blue jays are a bit skittish. They didn't sit still long enough for me to snap any pictures.
But as they were flitting about, in and out of the hedge, a male and female cardinal appeared. I can only assume these were the same two birds I saw last week. They were calling to each other, hopping from branch to branch. But they stayed in the yard. I watched them for awhile, snapping a few photos, and then the female decided to move to the front yard. The male followed shortly after, and so did I.
They were perfectly content to hang with me, let me take their pictures, let me talk to them.
They were my hug from Heaven.
It obviously wasn't a physical, touching kind of hug, but their presence comforted me and warmed my heart just like a regular hug would.
I relished it. I took it all in.
Then I realized I had a napping baby I needed to check on and two preschoolers who needed to be picked up. Back to reality.
I really can get caught up in the moment with those birds.
But I'm glad I have them, because they are proof that even though my mom is no longer physically present in my life, I know she's still here, watching over me and my family every day, giving us little hugs from Heaven.
And I'll never take them for granted...
 |
| Calling to his mate |
 |
| Waiting for his mate |
 |
| Beautiful bird |
 |
| He was very chatty today |
 |
| I kid you not -- she was on the roof of my van!! She even scared me one time when I opened the door to the garage and she was sitting on my rear-view mirror. I wasn't fast enough with the camera on that one, but I did manage to snap this one quickly before she flew into the trees. This explains the blurriness. |
 |
| Listening to her mate calling |
 |
| Calling back to her mate |
 |
| He is so handsome, and rather tame in bird standards |
 |
| You can't see it in this shot, but he was chastising two robins for getting a little too close to his woman! Ha! |
 |
| My lens even followed him up to the roof (I stayed on the ground, of course) |
 |
| My pretty lady having a snack |
 |
| She makes my heart happy |
Comments