Boxes, Bins, Barrels and Totes

October 27, 2014

Dear Daughters,

Once again I am in the middle of stacks, piles, decisions, and emotions. Stacks of things to be thrown out or given away, piles of memories to be sorted through, decisions of what goes where, and emotions which are scattered all across the landscape.

After living for 27 years in the beautiful state of Michigan, enjoying being near you and all your families, we are leaving to return to Idaho, as you know.  Though we are growing old, Grandpa and Grandma, both in their eighth decade, are growing older, and needing us to help care for them.

So we leave, with heavy hearts, joy-filled hearts, broken hearts and hearts full of anticipation to what God has in store for us.  Having only been caretakers for our children and grandchildren at the beginning of their lives, caring for parents near the culmination of their lives will be a new adventure.

Dad and I have been reading through the book The Spirituality of Caregiving by Henri Nouwen during the past week.  The opening thought of the book took me by surprise.  The word care finds its root in the word kara which means “to lament, to mourn, to participate in suffering, to share in pain.”  Even though we have done all those things at various times and in countless ways with  many of our family and loved ones in our lives already, this chapter will be totally different.

I am reminded of the beauty of faithfulness, especially in marriage, as we prepare to move.  Though Dad and I have had struggles in our marriage we fought for love, for understanding and for grace – a battle not easily won, but so worth the fight.  Because we have learned to care for each other our bonds have become strong,  so we will be able to be a united front in caring for my parents, whose bonds have also become stronger over their 64 years together.  They too have been through hardships – the death of a son, physical limitations, and the everyday strains and pulls of life.

God only knows how long any of our lives will be, but as we continue learning to forgive, sharing in each other’s pain, trusting God to teach us His ways, we will become faithful as He is faithful.  We, as a family, have actually been caregivers, according to the definition above.  We have suffered with, we have lamented, we have mourned each other’s losses, we have shared our pain as a family.  So we have all learned to care.  I thank all of you for allowing us to lament, grieve, rejoice and share your pain.  We will continue to do so, yet now it will be from a distance.

As we prepare to leave we grieve, we mourn, we question why.  This weekend, as we spent our last time together as a family for many months, it was so hard.  It was wonderful to be with you all, to watch the little ones play, the older ones becoming so grown-up, the teasing, laughter and celebration with food.  But then came the good-byes….. for now.  My heart was breaking, tears streaming down our faces and I wondered “Are we doing the right thing?”  For many years I thought that doing the right thing would feel good.  But I have had to learn that doing right sometimes hurts.  Jesus obeyed his Father perfectly and it hurt him.  Can I expect any less?

God is good and His will is that we live responsibly today and trust Him for tomorrow.  It’s hard, it hurts, but I know it’s the only way that will bring joy.  So, my dear daughters,

            May the road rise to meet you,

            May the wind be always at your back

            The sun shine warm upon your face

            The wind blow soft upon your fields.

            And until we meet again,

            May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

(The Old Irish Blessing)

Love, Mom