Ten Thousand Reasons to Keep Going After a Loss

Last night, my oldest son Joseph did something that was a gift to me, but he didn't realize how much of gift it would become.  On the Flint Hill fields last night during flag football practice Matt Redman's "10,000 Reasons" was playing over the sound system.  Later that night after we got home Joseph said he had downloaded some sheet music.  He went downstairs and I heard the chords to "10,000 Reasons".  He was trying to sight read the first page.

Of all the songs he could have chosen, he picked this one.  I know it had to have been because he heard it played at the field last night as well.  Plus, the piano is so lovely.

This song..... oh this song.....  I couldn't listen to it all the way through for months after my mom died.

This morning I sight read the entire piece on our piano.... twice.
Yes, there were tears in my eyes..... those chords at the beginning always get to me.

In June of 2012 my mother was extremely sick and on Hospice care.  She was weak and more fragile than I had ever seen her in my entire life.  Something in my gut told me in May she would be with us through June but I was not sure how long after that.  It was the gnawing sensation that I knew she was going to die, but the "when" escaped me.  I had the heaviest heart for that month of June.

Through those precious days and four weeks she continued to smile, laugh, and be who she was... so full of love for all of us she loved so very dearly despite how badly she felt physically.

There was a song Mike was playing on his lap top during that time which really ministered to me.  "10,000 Reasons" by Matt Redman.   The words to the song really spoke deeply to me especially the part about keeping on singing.  When my heart knew my mom couldn't sing because of her ailing body which was failing on so many levels, I was going to keep singing in my heart for both of us.  That's what I thought and what I wrote about as I grieved the anticipation of losing her 2 weeks before she died.

For weeks it was like my life flashing before my eyes thinking of all of the wonderful things Mom had done for me.  Who she was.  How I had so much of her in my heart.  She saved my life quite literally in ways only a mother can save it.  How do you adequately thank someone for choosing you as her daughter?  How?  Is it even possible?  All of these thoughts of thankfulness, gratitude to God, and how much I loved and appreciated her flooded my mind that June.  She had become such a part of me and I wasn't ready to let go of that.  All of us were having such a hard time with watching her decline.

So I wrote this post on June 24, 2012 and she passed away 6 nights later.  Bless the Lord Oh My Soul
(Click the link to read, it's very short! Lyrics to the song found there.)  It was about this very song, "10,000 Reasons".   Yes, the song I played this morning on our piano!

The entire lyrics to the song are so powerful.....  it ends not with death, but HOPE.

"And on that day when my strength is failing,
The end draws near and my time has come,
Still my soul will sing Your praise unending,
10,000 years and then forever more! "


This song talks about God's goodness.  He is our reason to get up in the morning!  He is our reason to keep singing!  He is who is at our bedside when our bodies are failing.  He is who is with us in the life to come!  The entire song speaks of his holiness, goodness, and how worthy he is of our praise!  

10,000 Reasons to keep going..... I've got a big one the Lord has provided at the moment.....

This baby grand piano that now sits in a corner of our house has most certainly become a treasured gift.  It has proven to be the BEST thing I have ever purchased in my adult life outside of our homes.  It is used and 15 years old, but the previous owner took such good care of it and I am so grateful for that.

I told the Lord that if he helped me learn to play well again or even better than I used to after all of these years that I would keep playing.  AND.... I would play for others.

This desire to play has captivated my heart and the desire to play for others has as well.  Seeing the boys play and hearing piano music in our house on a daily basis makes me smile and I know my parents would have been happy to be a part of that.

My dad always wanted a baby grand.  He used to joke about it.  "But Joe, you don't play!" my mother would tell him.  His response was, "I know, but she does...." and he would point to me.

He was always telling me to "play some more please."  So I would.  I'm telling our boys that too.

We never got a baby grand piano even though my father would have loved to have had one.  I never thought I'd ever own one myself even though I secretly dreamed of that since I was a child.   Anytime Dad saw one, he would marvel over what a beautiful instrument it was.  He loved piano music and grew up listening to George Gershwin records as a teen.  If alive today on this earth would he be giddy that this instrument is in our home?  Absolutely!  Most importantly he would be super excited that it was not just "sitting looking pretty" but that it was played....every single day.  Mom would feel the same way.

10,000 reasons to keep going after a loss..... I have not come up with 10,000 reasons yet, but I may start a list and see how many ones I can come up with then if I get to 1000, I will just multiply those by 10 and say, "Do those things 10 times."

I've got ONE big new reason right now among many others.   When the boys and I can get our repertoires together we will start playing for seniors and Alzheimer's patients.

Thinking on how I could not listen to this song for months and months at all and then for more months without a tear in my eye.  Today I can listen to the entire thing and be ok.  Playing it on the piano however?  Wow..... would I have thought that would happen in June 2012?  It will still remind me of my mother though she did not ever know of or hear the song.

So I'm thanking my son today when I pick him up from school.  This gift of sheet music is more than he realized.  He downloaded it for himself, but actually he did it for me.  Thank you Lord for ministering to me through music, my son, and the loving memory of my mother.

A Heritage of Flowers and Love

   

     There are many ways we connect as human beings to each other.  Times shared together bond us in ways that nothing else does.  Memories of acts of kindness or gifts of kindness are etched in our hearts and become little parts of us which connect us together as well.  

    One way my mom and I were connected was by flowers and gardening. I remember so well her tending our flowerbeds on Lockhart with such diligence.  The "tending to" was not always her favorite part, but the end result and seeing the fruits of her labor was always what kept her going.  Mom had all kinds of plants.  What was neat about our flowers is that most all of them were given to us by someone else.  She rarely bought plants.  Tulips and chrysanthemums mainly were what she would buy for just those seasons.  Our yard was literally a flower tapestry.... little bits of someone else's family's heritage passed on to us.  Plants came especially from my aunt and my grandmother's and grandfather's yards, also in Dilworth .  

What is nice is that today I connect with others who do the same thing of gifting or sharing plants.  My aunt and my mother in law continue this tradition in different ways with different plants....Easter lilies, hydrangeas, coreopsis, etc.  Sometimes it is a gift from me for Easter or Mother's Day or a birthday. My mother in law loves gardening too and she is always wonderful about telling me how the plants I've given her are doing!  I love it!  My mom would divide plants which became crowded, dug up tulips for a season and replanted them, trimmed forsythia bushes, roses, and camellias.  Iris were always in our front flower bed for as long as I can remember.  Later they were divided and moved to other spots in the backyard alongside Dad's workshop, we lovingly referred to as "The Shop".  

   Late August of 1999, my mom called me over to the house and told me to bring a "bucket for bulbs".  She wanted me to take some of the bulbs we'd enjoyed for so many years to my house for transplanting.  It was "time to pass down some heritage". 
   
    "Don't you want some iris?  They will multiply in your yard and are hardy." she told me.  "I know you want some of your "little purple hyacinths too," she added.  

    It was this day she and I were on our hands and knees digging in the dirt together which I remember so vividly.  The day I brought daffodil, iris, and hyacinth bulbs to my house on Smith. We left some behind for the new owner.  She would not have minded if I had taken more than I did, but I felt as she did, that leaving some behind would be a nice gesture for the new owner of the house.

     Deciding where to plant them at my house was easy.  I chose the front yard flowerbeds as opposed to the backyard.  I had light purple, white, and yellow Bearded Iris.  Unfortunately,  when I planted them I had no idea what was what.  They bloomed by our driveway for years and multiplied and were absolutely gorgeous every April.  I had to divide them myself on 2 different occasions.  It was no easy task, but worth it.  I gave many away to friends and it is fun to drive up to one of my friend's houses in Fort Mill and see the Lockhart Iris blooming so beautifully in her yard.  I just love it!  

    Maybe it was ingrained in me by my mother to pass on family history or in my case, "take a little bit of heaven and history" with you when you move.  I had divided and transplanted yellow and purple iris all over our flowerbeds on Smith.  In the side yard, in the back---in 2 different places, where ever I could find room, I transplanted them.  The result was that I always had lots of flowers to share.  Growing large amounts of iris was a blessing because I cut bouquets for those years they were so plentiful and brought them to people in skilled nursing, or to my mom, or to my neighbor, or to anyone I thought might could use a little bright spot in their day.

One patch of iris from Smith

   I enjoy giving flowers to others so much, the thoughts of being a florist have crossed my mind.  The smiles on the receiving end of flowers....my goodness.... who wouldn't want a job that brought that kind of joy?

    From the time those Lockhart bulbs bloomed in our yard, I loved bringing my mom some of "her" flowers each spring.  I know she loved receiving them.  I loved the faces of the ladies in the retirement community, during Mom's last years with us, especially Mrs. Leonard and Ms. Willie.  When I brought them bouquets, Ms. Willie at age 102 would just sit in her wheel chair and stare at them and couldn't take her eyes off the blossoms at the dining table.  They would be gone in a week or less, but I knew for that week, she had a little piece of heaven and a little piece of Poston love with her.

I always decided after sharing flowers that I'd always want to grow enough in my yard for me to share.  I still feel that way today.  Since I have started over I have a long way to go!

When our house went on the market 2 years ago I was bound and determined to take flowers with me.  It was going to be tricky,  because I would not be able to plant them right away.  We had to move to a temporary apartment until our new house was built.  That muggy, hot week of August  before we moved, I found myself under the River Birch digging up daffodils and hyacinths.  While I was there, I had our 12 year old son digging up iris.  He was such a help.  Digging up the iris was much easier than digging up the other bulbs.  They grew in shallow soil.  Joseph was a champ and was so very helpful that day!  I was so proud of him.

   All of the iris which didn't dry out in paper bags I planted here at the new house.  Not having much flower bed space at all, and keeping hungry deer in mind, I put them in the front and back, just to get them in the ground in early spring of last year.  I didn't expect them to bloom, but at least they would grow some roots.  I knew I'd have to wait another entire year to see them bloom.

    It has been worth the wait!  They are beautiful this year! 

Subconsciously I planted them on the same exact side of our new house as they were at the old house.  The left front corner flowerbed... actually all I was thinking at the time was "Where do I have space??" and I put them there.  I have no purple iris, even though I dug many up.  They must not have made it and been some of the ones dried out during our transition time of moving.  

Every blooming plant I've seen this year is yellow.  

The Lockhart yellow!

A piece of my mother is in those blooms.  A piece of heaven and a piece of my history too, which I would have regretted leaving on Smith.  I am so happy that this plant has lovingly been spread so many places.  I do not know if they exist on Lockhart anymore.  My guess is probably not.  That's ok.  I've got them with me and they continue to bloom on Smith for our neighbors whom we miss so much.  

My mom would have loved that I can still enjoy them.  I just wish I could cut a bouquet for her!   

We will enlarge our front flowerbeds this year and I've already bought some white and orange Iris to go with the Yellow.  The white and orange ones will be our new history here.  

A mix of old and new..... I like that very much.

It's so much describes my mother's personality.... appreciating the old and well loved, but happy to enjoy a new garden addition!

Saturday's Silence in the Garden

The Saturday before Easter it was quiet.  Jesus' body had been taken down off the cross the day before.  He was in the darkened tomb and it was sealed.  

There must have been a lot of confusion and grief that day with those who loved Jesus.  The aftershock of what had happened the day before weighed on their hearts....so many questions in the minds of the disciples.  Saturday must have been quiet on the outside, but emotional turmoil on the inside of Jesus' beloved followers.

I find it interesting that the Easter story involves a day of rest, a sabbath of sorts before the resurrection.  There is a silence and quiet where there is nothing written down to let us know what happened exactly that day.  We can only imagine.  What we do know is Jesus' body is lying in the tomb and there are those who feel like their world has been shattered.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to the columbarium at Myers Park UMC, with a daffodil in hand to put in my parents' niche.  The columbarium is actually a garden outside Francis Chapel and the niches are on the side of the chapel all the way around.  There are camellia bushes flanking one side and an angel fountain on the other.  A large Tulip Magnolia tree is at the entrance and a Crepe Myrtle next to a bench.  The Tulip tree was blooming that evening that I stopped by the garden.

I decided to take photos of it because it is such a reminder to me of new life, Easter and the resurrection.  That tree will always bloom around the time of my father's death and my mother's birthday.  

It's like a message from God as I enter the gate....
" 'I am the resurrection and the life....'  Don't worry Judith, your folks and all of my beloved laid to rest here are alive with me.  You just have to wait awhile to see them again."


In the past, I didn't spend too much time thinking about Holy Saturday.  It was the day before Easter when nothing was really going on.  It was the day to get ready for Easter or do my own thing.  In my mind, it seemed ok not to ponder Holy Saturday too deeply, so I didn't.

Then my parents died 9 months apart and everything changed.

My Holy Saturday became my Dad's funeral.....March 30, also what would have been my mother's 83 birthday.  Dad and Mom never missed celebrating her birthday together. 
They were together now in that earthly niche and alive with Christ in eternity.

That Holy Saturday was a blur.  It was only 2 Easters ago.  It seems like yesterday.

Walking two people home whom I  love, has taught me about grief.  I know what it feels like the day after you lose someone.  One day they are here, the next they are gone and it feels like your world has been turned upside down. 

You remember the suffering they went through and how you felt as if you were staring death in the face.  In fact you were, but what you couldn't see was what Jesus was renewing on the inside.  That was what kept me going when I walked through the valley with them their final weeks of life.  Even through the deepest part of my sadness, there was much peace, comfort, and assurance of God's love.  Death was the door to life and I knew that, but that head knowledge became real to me when I was there in those final moments with my parents.  It changed my life.  

Jesus' followers only had to wait through Holy Saturday before seeing Him again.  Easter was coming, they just didn't know it yet.

We are still waiting in the garden with our losses, fears, doubts and hurts.... I'm still waiting in the garden to see Jesus face to face.  I'm not alone.  We're not alone because the Holy Spirit is with us and He waits too, with blessed assurance and hope.  

Spring continues all around us as signs that this is not the end.  When the sun comes up, it is a promise of a new day.  I may be still waiting in the garden by the tomb, but I know that Jesus is there with me patiently comforting me as I wait, renewing my spirit with hope that death is not the end.

Death has been conquered because of His great love for us!
Jesus is the resurrection and the life!  

Easter is almost here!  

Memories of the Season

Looking back at the Christmas season of 2014 from the beginning of the December to the New Year..... I'm so grateful for it all.

(I'm posting a bit late..... my apologies.  Many of these photos are all taken with my new camera Mike gave me last year, my Cannon Rebel.  Some are taken with an iPhone 5s.  I've been doing a lot of photo taking, trying and experimenting with the Canon camera trying to learn its features.  It has been one of the most thoughtful gifts my husband has ever given me.  He knows how much I enjoy photography.  I'm such a baby at this, but one day I hope I'm not.)

Happy New Year!
Judith


We started out December with a birthday..... Joseph is 14.
How did that ever happen?  I'm still wrapping my mind around the fact that my son is now taller than Mike and I.  Even though he was sick on his birthday, a slice of red velvet cake seemed to be just what the doctor ordered and he was all smiles!

Christmas lights at sunset

Enjoying the Christmas season at Myers Park

Going to see the Carolina Panthers play the Tampa Bay Buccaneers 

Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens

Orchid Christmas tree ~ Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens

Advent devotions

Christmas breakfast with Nonno

A Christmas kiss for Mom

Christmas lunch preparations

A bike ride Christmas day

Happy New Year!

Remember the Laughter

August 1st is my Dad's birthday.  He would have been 82 this year.   In my eyes, this is his 2nd birthday in heaven.  I know he continues to do what he always did on earth….smile, laugh and yes probably joke!  I believe Jesus has a sense of humor.  I have to consider that Dad and Jesus may have had a few good jokes together or shared a lot of laughter in the past year.  Something tells me this is highly likely and probable.  Jesus is the one who created that jovial, smiling,  fun spirit in Dad.  If He created it, and it is eternal, why wouldn't it continue in the next life which is our forever home?

There was no one like my dad.  There are a million things I miss about him and it is just easier to say that I miss every single thing about him.   No one ever loved me like he did and no one will ever love me in that way again.  It is a hard pill to swallow even over a year after his passing.  I count it as something intricately special to my life to have had someone love me and show me how to love others as well as he did.  

That joking though….. oh my goodness.  We used to laugh so!  I don't think there has ever been someone in my life who joked and laughed with me like Dad did.  This banter back and forth we used to share.  He loved to see our reactions to his antics and yes the antics were frequent and made Mom smile and shake her head.  "What is your father up to?"  or simply a…"JOE!"  Mom's reaction to his playfulness made us laugh more.  He loved the attention and he loved to hear us laugh most of all.

Trying to distract Mom by gently blowing her direction instead of letting her blow out her candles!  

Dad why isn't the hose attached???

He loved playing with Joseph and Philip

So many happy birthday moments!

Mom…. his beautiful bride and love of his life!

Love that hat Dad!

And MY FAVORITE….  "The Handy man creed-  'If I can't fix it, it ain't broken!"  Yes, I found this shirt at Cracker Barrel and thought of him.  It was his 76th birthday.  Dad, the handy man who loved tools, wood working and any thing home improvement.

The silly things we used to do:  putting the sock monkey stuffed animal in the dining room chair for him to find at dinner or under the covers at his pillow at night.  Little messages on things.  The pretend "stone, hard, stale biscuits" scenario (take your home made biscuit and pretend to tap it on your plate while you are taking your knife under the table and tapping it on the underside of the table to make the sound effect)   This was a joke he played on Mom a long time ago.  Funny hand made cards with speech balloons attached to printed  photos we cut out and put on the card to make him smile.  He took everything in stride and never took anything personally.  He made sure with his joking that no one else did either.  His jokes were clean, sometimes corny, but very entertaining.  He often times joked about his "lack of hair" and getting it wet in the rain.  He and his dentist exchanged  funny birthday cards to each other for years and his dentist told me how much he missed that after Dad passed away.  It was something to which he always looked forward.

 It was the gifts of making others smile, his actual smile, his ability to help people see they were valued and loved even in the midst of a funny "break the ice" remark which made him unforgettable.  I can't think of how many grocery store clerks he would be kind to or joke with on a regular basis.  If you were having a bad day and you ran into Dad, he would make your bad day more manageable by helping you to forget your worries if only for a few minutes.  Even in the nursing home with Alzheimer's disease at its worst, he would smile, laugh, and joke around with the staff.  He was always so grateful for everything they did for him.  They loved his fun loving personality and several told me they already missed his jokes the day after he died.

Our personalities do matter to God.  He created our spirits to be unique and to shine a part of who He is.  The Lord allowed Dad to keep those parts of himself which reflected who he was the most,  even when Alzheimer's had stolen so much of his life away.  That love.  That gratitude for others and what they did for him.   That fun loving spirit.  Those were things Alzheimer's could never take away in him.

So August 1st was always such a happy day!  It was fun to celebrate my dad.  It was fun to joke with him about his age, flipping the numbers to make him younger…..  "I'm 62, no that would be 26 thanks very much."  44, 55, 66, and 77 were not years this worked and we let him know it.  I think in my Dad's heart he was always youthful.  He lived his life this way with a vivacity and love of the gift of life God gave him.  He saw life as a gift.  He saw us as a gift.  He saw his faith as a gift.  I do know one thing…. he never ever wanted to grow old.  

 He aged gracefully by always staying active and in physically good shape.  When he did grow old, he'd refer to himself as "your old dad"…. but to me he wasn't old in spirit even if Alzheimer's made him physically look 10 years older than he was.  He was always my Papa Bear….funny, loving, encouraging, strong, full of life, happy, and spirited.

He was my hero dad.

I miss him so.  There is a huge void in my life which can never be replaced.  Life just isn't the same without him there on a regular basis.   I remember the laughter we used to share and all of those birthdays seeing his face light up and a hearty chuckle from my hand made corny, silly cards…..  He loved them.  He just loved being with all of us.  Mom, Tom, the boys and Mike and I.  He loved his friends too; they were a special part of his life.

I can't wait to get in on the joking and laughter in heaven.  I know Daddy's spirit is not dead.  He lives forever more and is waiting for us to join him so we can experience his joy, laughter, and love of eternal life with the one who created that very spirit in us!

I love you Daddy!  Happy Birthday!  
Love,
Your little girl

This is a video tribute of Dad I made and set to music.  

Joseph F. Poston, Jr iMovie

The photos span his lifetime from childhood to the last photo we had with him as a family in early March 2013.  The music I selected reflects his musical tastes.  He loved piano music.  "Beach Spring" is a famous American folk tune I love.  "Someone to Watch Over Me" is exactly what he was to all of us…..he was that father who was always there.  "Make Someone Happy" is what he did all of his life and when Alzheimer's came it is what we tried to do for him.  We tried to bring joy to him every chance we could.  The last song, "Smile" conveys what he did those last years with Alzheimer's disease.  "Smile, though your heart is breaking…. smile and the sun will come shining through for you…."  It is what he continued to do battling the loss of his memories and life as he once knew it.  It is what we all strived to do and did when we were with him though our hearts were breaking watching his decline.  It defines his courage and strength.