It's Your Song

March 26, 1935 - January 17, 2010

My Mom passed away on Sunday from Alzheimer's Disease and Colon Cancer. She was surrounded by her 5 children and waited for her favorite daytime Nurse to come back to work in the morning before she passed peacefully in her sleep. It was the most heart-wrenching moment, of relief and despair all wrapped into one. She is finally "free", at peace and in a better place.

Since this Blog is named after a Garth Brooks song about the life you lived in that little dash in between your birth date and death date, I wanted to share with you the lyrics from yet another fitting Garth Brooks song. My Mom had the most beautiful voice and I was always in awe of her when she sang. This is the one thing she will be remembered for most, not just by her family but by all of the people whose weddings and funerals she sang at. My sister, "P", and I have been blessed with good voices, too, though we can not even compare to my Mom's voice. So, the lyrics to the song below express what I feel when I sing. I sing for her.

"It's Your Song" by Garth Brooks

Standing in the spotlight
On such a perfect night
Knowing that your out there listening
I remember one time
When I was so afraid
Didn't think I had the courage
To stand up on this stage
Then you reached into my heart
And you found the melody
And if there ever was somebody
Who made me believe in me
It was you
It was you

It was your song that made me sing
It was your voice that gave me wings
And it was your light that shined
Guiding my heart to find
This place where I belong
It was your song

Every night I pray
Before the music starts to play
That I'll do my best and I won't let you down
And for all the times I've stood here
This feeling feels brand new
And any time I doubt myself I think of you

'Cause It was your song that made me sing
It was your voice that gave me wings
And it was your light that shined
Guiding my heart to find
This place where I belong
It was your song

Dreams can come true
With God's great angels like you

It was your song that made me sing
It was your voice that gave me wings
And it was your light that shined
Guiding my heart to find
This place where I belong
It was your song
It was your song
It's always been your song


Rest easy now, Mom. I will do my best to make you proud every day.
I love you,
-G

The End of an Era

This is the house I grew up in. This is where my Dad still lives, for now. We have just put it on the market, which I am totally fine with. Or was, until I drove by and saw the "For Sale" sign in the front yard. I actually broke down and cried, almost having to pull over because I couldn't see through my tears. Seeing that sign meant the end of an era in my life - this house represents so much of me, the me that made me who I am today. It is the place where I was born, the place I laughed in, loved in, fought in, cried in, puked in, played in, swam in the pool, sang in, opened birthday and Christmas gifts in, posed for countless pictures in, healed a broken heart in, enjoyed family get togethers in, I could go on for hours....

I am usually the strong one in my family, out of the girls anyway. I try to use logic over emotion whenever possible. I think I must have learned that from my husband, because I used to be more emotional than I am now. So I was surprised by my immediate reaction to seeing the For Sale sign.

Last week we had to finish cleaning out the house so it could be shown, and I found my dolls that I used to play with. I couldn't bring myself to throw them away, even though they look like they were in a dirty basement for 25+ years (they were technically on the front porch in a rubbermaid bucket, but the result was the same!). Seeing those dolls, remembering the hours and hours I played with them in that house, brought on such a strong feeling of nostalgia, making me wish that life was still as simple as it was for me when I was living there, playing with my dolls, eating dinner at 5:10 p.m. (on the dot, after Dad got home from work) sitting across from my sisters and brother and Mom and Dad. I knew I was loved, protected and safe. There were no bills to worry about paying, no sick parents to worry about, etc. It brought about the realization that I am officially a "grown up", with my own house, my own family, creating new memories for my son. I am still loved, protected and safe, and my husband is the one who worries about paying the bills, but it's just different.

It's a hard thing to face - I still want to be the little sister who everyone watches opening up Christmas presents, and I want to be that little girl who used to climb up on my Dad's lap and hear him tell everyone that I'm his "baby". I am still the baby of the family and that will never change, but my role has changed significantly. And that is because of the years I spent growing, learning and watching my family as we lived together in this house, our home. But the one realization that is most important is that it was not the house that made me who I am, but those who lived in the house with me. I am who I am, because of them.

So, pray for a quick sale...and most of all have a wonderful, Happy Thanksgiving. I know I have a lot to be thankful for.


G

'Til we meet again, Mrs. D.

My post in September titled "A privilege we don't often get" was about the opportunity to say goodbye to someone before they die. I got that privilege when Mrs. D's family held a "Celebration of Life" party while she was still capable of receiving visitors, and it was such a nice thing that she got to enjoy her own "wake" of sorts. Tonight, Mrs. D lost her battle with cancer.

I am so sad, more so because my nephews, her two youngest Grandsons, probably won't remember her too well....they are only 3 and 4. I was one of those kids who grew up without Grandparents and I know what I missed. Mrs. D loved her family, and her Grandkids were definitely her pride and joy. Her whole house is decorated with picture after picture of all 5 of them. She also loved her God, and now is resting comfortably in His arms. I'm sure of it.

The next few days are sure to be filled with a lot of emotions, so please keep Mrs. D and all that loved her in your thoughts and prayers.

G

A Privilege We Don't Often Get

(((Yes, I made it through the week of Cub Scout Camp. I'm here to blog so it couldn't have been that bad - although my back and my legs tell a different story! I will post some cool pics from Camp as soon I can.)))

THIS POST, though, is not about Cub Scout Camp at all. It is about the privilege of saying goodbye to someone before they are gone. As in, gone to the other side. And this woman, she will most definitely be going to Heaven.

Mrs. D is my brother-in-law's Mother. She is also my childhood best friend's Mother. She is also my hubby's best friend's Mother. (The bro-in-law and best friend are all the same person, by the way!!!). She was my neighbor and fellow parishioner at Church all through my childhood. She was there when my heart broke for the first time, when I was left behind for the Prom by a boy who took another girl and didn't tell me. (She accidentally let that cat out of the bag as the others were getting into the limo!) OOPS. Her husband, Mr. D, has been mistaken for being my father, and vice/versa. (We think they might be related somewhere down the French Canadian lines of heritage). She let us "kids" hang around their house when we had nowhere else to go. She made her son (above mentioned friend/bro-in-law) walk me home in the dark even though it was right around the corner. Both my hubby and I were invited to their family gatherings throughout the years, and they were invited to our Wedding and our son's Baptism and First Holy Communion. You could easily say that she is a second Mother to both my husband and myself. Our families are linked in more ways than one, and this pleased her to no end.

Mrs. D has terminal liver and pancreas cancer. She has recently decided not to continue with Chemo treatments. Today, her family held a "Celebration of Life" party at her home where she is resting comfortably. It was a wonderful thing to do - it gave all of us a chance to get together and let her know how much she means to us. And the best part of it all was the atmosphere was a happy one - because she has total, undying faith in her God and Savior, and she knows she is going on to a better place and that one day she will be there to greet us when we (hopefully) meet up in Heaven.

One thing we were asked to do before we left was to write her a message in a journal. It was very hard to do, both because it made me sad but also to try to say goodbye without actually saying it. In the end, it made me feel good and when I left her I was able to tell her I loved her and that was as good a goodbye as any. As my title says, it is a privilege we don't often get. I ended my journal entry with "Til We Meet Again", and I sincerely hope that it comes true.

G