It’s been a long three weeks. But every day there’s a little bit of help and significance that happens.
Last night after the first full day where my mom didn’t speak back- I had an exchange.
The day before I painted last painting she would see || I call little girl loved.
Laura my not natural born sister. Her littlest daughter in these last three weeks has renamed me “lovie” and her other daughter has renamed me cherry.
There are some things that we just do as a child so well. We love.
At 10 (ish) I stepped out of my mom’s room to walk down the hallway. I saw her. She was seated on the couch that I tried to sleep on the night before. It was late, the light low but I saw her. Clear sight is like hearing from God.
As I passed, I knew I was supposed to hug her.
Can I give you a hug?
She said yes.
Wordless for a breath we hugged. She spoke, I just lost my mom. And I knew just- meant just now. Still holding her, I confessed my mom is in room 104. She spoke again, and I lost my dad in December. Then she said- what we think – and don’t always say.
I didn’t know I’d be a mid-life orphan.
Still wrapped in the blanket of each other’s comfort- I said, I know.
We pulled back and looked at one another. I hugged her again and walked away.
Knowing our exchange wasn’t done, I turned and said.
We are stronger than we know.
We are little girl’s loved.
“We, though, are going to love—love and be loved. First we were loved, now we love. He loved us first.”
1 John 4:19 MSG