I am blessed to have two friends that have been by my side since we were five. As we approach thirty years of friendship I'm keenly aware that these relationships are truly a rarity. God has given me sisters in these girls and I am a better person because of both of them. We have seen each other through loosing teeth, first crushes, puberty, sleep overs, feathered hair, "curling iron burns", slumber parties, Jason, Billy/Matt, Nathan, heartbreaks, homecomings, girls nights, K-12, graduation, cruises, college reunions, weddings, babies (premature babies), more babies, divorce...and now, death.
Tricia's Dad, Mr. Hovis to me, despite his insistence that I call him "Rich"... has escaped the cruel and ugly grasp of Alzheimer's and Parkinson's and is now celebrating with our Maker. Despite the void he leaves behind and the sadness those that knew him feel...I felt a peace and excitement on his behalf as I tried to wrap my brain around the thought of what he is now experiencing. I sat through his funeral service and wondered how someone faces the reality of our own humanity without faith in our Savior. In this case, the gathering was marked with tears and sadness for our own loss, but also an overwhelming awareness that Mr. Hovis had a strong personal relationship with Jesus and that his eternal security is without question...and for that it was also a celebration.
One of the hardest things about this weekend was to watch a friend that you care so deeply about hurt so intensely. Helplessness. I was able to babysit. I was able to help set up. I was able to help coordinate arrangements. But it's all band aids on a major bleeding artery. The gesture doesn't go unappreciated, but I know that the reality is it probably all made me feel a little better then it did her.
A ton of thoughts floated around my head this weekend. I thought about learning to ski behind Mr. Hovis' boat. He was such a patient teacher and never gave up on me. I thought about how he always called me "Mel"...he was the only person that only called me "Mel"...and I didn't mind. I thought about this new phase of life I've entered...when people my parents age are dying. I thought about my parent's mortality. I thought about my own mortality. The military burial at a Veteran's cemetery made me think about Brad. The presentation of the American flag to Tricia's mom made my brain throb. Taps playing on the bugle made my knees weak. I thought about my girls. I thought about them being at my funeral some day.
I started to think that maybe it's a good thing I don't always have this much time to think.
Spot The Hidden Mickey
8 hours ago
2 comments:
I understand the extra time to think. I know that pondering and spending time with our own thoughts is essential to our lives, but too much can be overwhelming. Especially after a sad event. I am so sorry for your friend. Saying goodbye to a parent is never easy. Even though you know they have so many better things in store for them then they would have had here. What a blessing to have people in your life whose friendship can withstand all those years of growing up and changing.
Sherry
Praise God there is no sickness in Heaven! I understand the feeling of helplessness you mentioned. I have experienced this feeling recently (Ryan lost a dear friend to cancer a few weeks ago). SO hard to see a loved one hurting so deeply. Thankfully God provides comfort and peace...along with time and love from friends and family which will help to heal their broken hearts. You are truly blessed to have such wonderful lifelong friendships. I am sure Tricia is comforted by knowing she has such a special bond with you and that she can lean on you during such a difficult time...and Mr. Hovis is most definitely smiling about that too! :o)
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