If You've Lost Someone

Discussion in 'Home Defense/Guns' started by KindredCanuck, Jun 10, 2004.

  1. KindredCanuck

    KindredCanuck In Remembrance

    Messages:
    304
    Joined:
    Apr 14, 2003
    Location:
    Greatest country in the world... CANADA
    This is for anyone who's ever lost a mother, father sibling, partner or special friend that you were very close to and knows the feelings that remain alive inside of you forever... I lost my Mom in 2000 a think of her often with happy thoughts and feelings of warmth. So to you who have recently lost someone, or are going through turmoil over someone dear to you who is dying, know that it is those special memories that keep us going after all is said and done.







    And You Always Will
    By LeAnn R. Ralph

    I opened the dish-towel drawer for about the sixth time, hoping the towels had somehow magically appeared. But of course, the brand-new towels still weren't there. "What did Mom do with them?" I wondered aloud. I knew they had to be around somewhere because I'd given them to her for Christmas only a few months ago. Not that the towels were so terribly important. It's just that when you're expecting guests, you'd kind of like everything to look nice. Okay, so maybe I wasn't going to find the dish towels. But then again, the guests wouldn't arrive until tomorrow. Plenty of time to worry about dish towels later. On second thought, maybe I ought to forget about the towels altogether.

    My father's niece and her husband didn't seem like the kind of people who'd leave in a huff because their host hadn't put out new dish towels. What next? Perhaps I'd better see if I could lay my hands on Mom's best tablecloth. A tablecloth was always one of the things my mother insisted upon when we had company. I went to the drawer where Mom kept her tablecloths, and sure enough, there it was. But when I pulled out the hand-embroidered tablecloth and shook it open, I gasped in dismay. Right in the middle was a big stain. Now how in the world did Mom's best tablecloth - the one that had taken her so many months to finish - end up with a stain? Oh yes, that's right. We'd all been here for Christmas, and one of my brother's kids had accidentally knocked over a glass of soda pop. The sight of her grandchild sobbing with remorse had been more important than the tablecloth, and Mom had said she was sure the pop would come out when she washed it.

    All right, so it looked like I'd have to forget the tablecloth, too. Maybe I'd be better off attending to the big things right now, anyway, like vacuuming. Satisfied that I was finally going to make some progress, I got out the vacuum cleaner. Except - why did it sound so funny? And why wasn't it picking up those bits of paper on the living room carpeting? I pulled out the attachments hose and flipped the switch again. A-ha. That's why. No suction. The hose was plugged. Well, of course the hose was plugged. I couldn't find the new dish towels. Mom's best tablecloth had a big stain. Why wouldn't the vacuum cleaner hose be plugged?

    And right then and there, I started to cry. Now what was I going to do? Would a wire hanger fix the vacuum cleaner? No new dish towels and no tablecloth was bad enough, but I absolutely could not let guests come to the house without vacuuming. I went to my mother's closet, found a wire hanger and straightened it out. Thirty minutes later, however, the vacuum cleaner was still plugged.

    Where was Dad? I knew he'd gone outside and that, because it was mid-April, he was probably puttering around in his garden, but why wasn't he in here when I needed him? After being a farmer for more than fifty years, he could fix absolutely anything. And besides, I had plenty of other work to do. Just at that moment, my father came into the house. "What's wrong?" he asked, noticing my tear-streaked face.

    Although it had been years since I called him "Daddy," it just sort of slipped out, and along with it came fresh tears. "Oh, Daddy - I can't find the new dish towels. The tablecloth has a big stain. The vacuum cleaner is plugged. And - and. . . ." I stopped and swallowed hard. ". . . I miss my mother." There. I'd said it. And in that instant, the whole world seemed to stop while Dad drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.

    "I know you do," he said. "So do I."

    You see, only three weeks earlier, my mother was diagnosed with advanced gallbladder cancer. Mom had died Saturday night, and this was Monday. My father's niece and her husband were driving 275 miles to attend the funeral, and they would be staying at the house. As Dad gazed at me, I noticed how much he seemed to have aged in the last few weeks. His face was covered with silvery stubble, too. It was a rare morning when my father didn't shave, but then again the past couple of days had been far from ordinary. "And you know what?" Dad continued. "You always will miss her. In fact, it won't ever go away completely. Not even when you're as old as I am."

    After the funeral was over and my father's relatives had gone home, I found the dish towels. Mom had put them in her dresser drawer. And with several washings, the stain finally came out of the tablecloth. Dad had been able to fix the vacuum cleaner, too. But nothing could fix the fact that my mother was gone. And now all these years later, I realize Dad was right - I am always going to miss her.

    But I've also figured out what else he was trying to tell me on that April day in 1985 - that missing my mother keeps her alive in my heart

    KC~
     
  2. hurricanekeeper

    hurricanekeeper Member

    Messages:
    23
    Joined:
    May 31, 2004
    Location:
    Southern Missouri,Near West Plains
    My grandma and I had a special bond...She helped raise us kids so mom a single parent due to divorce could work to support the family. She taught me things that I use to this day...and her love was unending. She had a stroke and was bed-ridden for 6 months before she died, and 2 days before her death she spoke to me for the last time...she told me that she knew she had to be going to heaven, because if I loved her as much as I did then she had to have done something very right...the kind of right that would open those Pearly Gates! She told me to look out for everybody and to not cry for her because life had very good to her and to always remember how much she loved me. She told me that whenever I saw a yellow butterfly...to know she was thinking of me and loved me dearly! You see yellow butterflies were out personal sign, when I was a small child of about 3 we had all gone to the lake before the divorce and times were good etc...we were camping/fishing etc. Mom was setting up camp and Dad was gathering firewood and clearing dead brush etc...so grandma's job became to watch me...I became engrossed in watching a bunch of yellow butterflies and tried to catch some with childish hops and cavorts...lol...she said she thought I might kill her or at least wear her out...but confided that she had the best time, just watching me watch yellow butterflies. And when she got down and was scared (she would forget where she was at etc...) I painted a huge yellow butterfly with flowers and shrubs and grass beside her bed mural style (I am no artist!) But it was some of my better work...I told her that whenever she got scared she would see the yellow butterfly and know she was safe and that I was always going to be nearby. When she died it was with one hand on the butterfly and a smile on her face...so I know she died knowing she was safe and loved and that I was right there. She never woke up again...But to this day whenever I am feeling sad or upset and wishing I had my grandma to talk to and comfort me I see those yellow butterflies and instantly feel that same love and warm embrace that I remember from all those years ago...and I feel better! Thanks Grandma for all the love, support, and tender loving care you gave me...you taught me to be strong and tender at the same time and to always take the highroad. I will be forever in your debt...and as for the rest of you...I wish you many yellow butterflies...all in the name of love! Pam
     

  3. Bob in WI

    Bob in WI Well-Known Member

    Messages:
    349
    Joined:
    May 10, 2002
    Location:
    Western WI
    KindredCanuck

    Thanks for the post. It brings back memories for me also. My father died about 6 weeks before I turned 16. I know where you are coming from on that one.All of what you said was so true.