Caryn
Today I was handed some shocking news. My dear friend from when my kids were little has lung cancer and is at the point of death. Her daughter is a friend on facebook, but I didn’t know she was Evelyn’s daughter until she posted that her mother was dying. It hit me like a ton of bricks.
Ours had been an unlikely friendship. We met at a really hard time in Evelyn’s life. Her husband was very ill, and she was looking at a long road ahead, caring for him, waiting on the love of her life to be slowly taken away from her. She was having a bad day, the stresses of the situation had gotten to her, and I just thought she didn’t like me. It would be weeks before someone would tell me why she was so moody. Once I understood that part, our friendship grew. She and I had bowling in common, and I substituted on her team many times. She was such a different person when she had the chance to relax and enjoy herself.
Our friendship grew and continued for many years. After she quit bowling, we lost track of each other…until today. I had thought of her many times through the years, but the time never seemed right to go look her up. Why do we wait too long sometimes? I was in hopes that there might still be time to go and talk to her one more time, but that is not to be. She is in a coma now and the opportunity was never made available to me, so I wait…for news, that I don’t want to hear.
Today I took my mom to a birthday party for her sister’s great granddaughter. Why were we there? Well it wasn’t because they are such a close family that they all attend each and every birthday party for their siblings children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. It was because the daughter of my mother’s great aunt, who is ninety, came into town and wanted to see some of the family. So why do we have the neverending desire to reconnect with family? Is it the need to save the memories of our past in our mind so we can pass them on to our children, or is it the possibility that we may never see some of these people again. My mother wanted to go to this event to see her great aunt, who she thought would be there, because she feels that at ninety, she may not see her again, and she was disappointed that her aunt did not come, rather her cousin was here for her class reunion and wanted to spend a little time with her cousins. While my mother was disappointed at not seeing her aunt, she did enjoy visiting with her cousin. I’m sure that my mother really would have been happy going to almost any event, since she doesn’t get out much, and she does feel the passage of time more acutely than I do at 20 years her junior. While I very much enjoy searching records from the past to locate lost ancestors, I don’t necessarily feel the urgency to reconnect personally as much as she does. Maybe I will in the future, I don’t know. In the interim, I will continue to take her to the gatherings with her family whenever they come about, and help her to gleen what she needs from each event, so she and I can live our lives without the regret of neglecting the responsibilities we have to each other and to family, distant and not so distant.
Having never had a blog before, I guess the best place to start would be the beginning. I am a Christian first and foremost, a daughter, wife, mother, and grandmother second. I love the Lord Jesus Christ, and I work to follow God’s leading. And I love my family more than any of them can ever imagine. I am slowly learning Hebrew, as I believe that this is the language that we will all be speaking in Heaven, and I find that facinating. It is a beautiful language. The names of God mean so much more when you know them in the Hebrew version. Our God is so powerful and so loving toward us. It is simply beyond our meager ability to understand His love and faithfulness. Since this is such a big part of my life, you will find that, if you follow me, much of what you read will be about my wonderful Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (Yeshua), God my Father (Elohim), and God the Holy Spirit (Ruach HaKodesh). I hope you find this as interesting as I do.
