Shining lights

Second night in a row my house is quiet earlier than usual.  I get time to just be in my thoughts, press these keys. We started early, bundled up, though some of us not enough and headed to the road race that last year had Phoebe's team.  Last year we were there because it was our lifeline, pulled us forward.  This year we were there to be with friends, start the official day of giving thanks with people we could never thank enough.  Last year I was desperate, raw, completely broken, doing everything I could to make it to the next minute.  Every second was spent gauging each child, my husband, myself.  We were on the brink, so early on, too early to tell the path we would take.  I saw her face over and over on the t-shirts crossing the finish line ....and it had to be enough that day.  This year, this day, like every other, first thought is of her, greeting her, looking for her ... and though the pain is still there, it's not as raw.  We can go, want to go, so we can laugh and enjoy ...and we did.  And all through this day, little gifts sprinkled themselves on us. 
I see this young woman approach, beaming ..this young women who wept while she cut my hair for me the day I waked my daughter.  I sat on my porch in disbelief that I needed to get my hair done so I looked better for Phoebe.  Julie stood behind me snipping away, as she had done before, but this was different ...it was for Phoebe.  One time she cut my hair and straightened it.  When I returned home my kids cried.  I have fuzzy hair ...sometimes I'm lucky and its curly, most of the time it is just a fuzzy ball that I can bend in different directions.  Straightening it is an extreme detour from the norm.  My kids usually remind Julie of that time she nearly destroyed their love for their mother.  This morning she didn't have any scissors with her, but she had a big smile, and after a big hug "guess what Mrs. Walsh..." and as she reaches for her glove I shout as the ring on her finger shows itself.  Me and my girls ...along with so many others, of course, are wide with smiles ...we're just happy, plain happy.  She tells me I can be 'second mother of the bride,' and I tell her I'm maid of honor, or I can be both.  This big family shares and gives ...and takes so little, expects nothing and just keep pouring out love and care and joy ...  Other friends were there too, lamp lights, just like we're supposed to be for each other ....witnesses to me of how we can love each other well, through hardship, through joy and celebration ...through life.
Messages come my way ...remembering us, this day without our girl.  On the other end of the line is a voice so full of gratitude and we jabber on about being in her own kitchen, setting her own pace, music, cooking, being.  She laughs as she tells me the river runs through her yard, under her house.  No stranger to hardship, to loss and pain ...she laughs, not a cynical laugh, but one that speaks of God's grace and gifts.  Where she could complain and whine, ask "why me?" she speaks of this place, her home, her life ...with such joy, with eyes always on God, always with gratitude.  She's checking on me, always does.  She laughs with me, plays with me ....but every once in a while she'll tell me she cannot imagine, and yet she watches me go on, watches me smile and live life with my kids ...but says she knows it is hard ...knows I miss my girl ....and so does she.
We remember her together, talk about our kids, send off hugs and kisses ...and carry on.
My sister arrives.  I haven't spent a holiday with her in years ...her daughter too.  She hands me a box.  "Phebes" it reads ...we called her that.  A candle, a bedtime melody it says.  "I think Phoebe wants you to get some rest."  Probably ...I really don't sleep anymore, fading in and out all night.  We keep watch over our children.  We wait for the last one to come home, until each pillow holds a head, and I just can't seem to find that rest, that rhythm a mom has when her kids are safe and sound.  She isn't here, won't ever be in the way I like best. 
The day is soft and sweet, the air is crisp, the food is good ...and there is much to be grateful for.  I think of these people gracing our lives today and hope I can be like them too.  These generous, so generous souls, who give, expecting nothing in return ...no debit sheets, no ulterior motive, no waiting for us to mess up and do the wrong thing ...I think much like God does.  Their faith is strong, solid, a compass ...full of love, not fear, full of giving and freedom and joy.  Lives that are not easy or simple ...and yet filled with radiating joy and gratitude.  Crosses carried with joy ...even the heaviest, bear the greatest witness.  I hope one day I can get there ...to a place I can radiate joy, even through my loss and my great missing.  I have great examples surrounding me ...and I am very grateful for their witness.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace.  Amen.