Officially Theirs ~ More of my Adoption Story

It's interesting how you can learn something about your past even 45 years later.  I learned something recently about my past that I didn't know, or maybe I'd been told, but didn't remember.  Little details concerning my adoption which shed new light on how much my parents truly wanted me and my brother.

It started with a visit to the safety deposit box for Dad and Mom in search of something specific for them.  In the sorting of things I found my brother's official adoption papers.  I looked through them.  Which led me then to look through my own.

My brother knew the day he came home to live with Mom and Dad from the adoption agency, August 6, 1964.  

 

But he also knew, from just reading Mom's words in his "All About Me" book as well, that he officially became their son in September of 1965 an entire year later.

This type of information was not written in my "All About Me" book.  Mom wrote specifically about the day I came home with them, the day she first laid eyes on me, the day she loved me with all of her heart, not the day I officially became her daughter in the eyes of the state.

So it truly struck me when I carefully looked through these documents the process they went through to officially make me their daughter and to make my brother their son.

I was placed in their arms on January 11, 1967.  I was born in November of the previous year.  They started looking for a daughter when I was approximately four months old in my biological mother's womb.  They did not hear about me until right after I as born.  They waited 2 months for me to be placed with them in their home in good faith, after home visits and paperwork and other things which proved them to be fit parents to care for me and act as my guardians.  January 11 is the day my Moma wanted me to always remember.  Relatives came to visit me my first day home, both of my grandmothers fed me and I feel asleep on Grandmother Elizabeth's shoulder, (Dad's mom).  It's all written down in my baby book.  THIS was the day they celebrated me as part of their family.

When I looked at the documents I saw Mom and Dad had to petition the court for adoption for me and they did in early February of 1967.  Then the court had to give them a document which was provisional stating it was their wishes to adopt me personally and that they were going to go through this ONE YEAR period of waiting.  It was state law.  I was in their care, they were very much like foster parents, however what was different was they had every intention of me staying in their care, but I was still a ward of the court until such a day that the final court order was filed for my adoption.  

Why did I not remember this?  Mom and Dad must have told me this at some time in my life about the waiting period.  I'm sure they did, I just don't remember.  I know I had never seen my actual adoption papers until I read them recently. 

For one year, they could have changed their minds about me or my brother.  They could have not liked parenthood, or liked the way things were progressing with either of us, or anything at all about us, and changed their minds.  This waiting period was just for something like this.  People could change their minds.  Or something could surface within a year perhaps which might deem our family "not a good fit".  I don't know.  I wonder if this was also to make sure the birth mother didn't change her mind as well.  I'm not sure about that fact or if she could have intervened and disputed the adoption proceedings.  Obviously she did not, because I was always with my parents and never left their home or their presence.

What was so interesting was that the official day the provisional decree was filed in court was March 30, 1967.  My Mom's 37th birthday.... what a birthday present!  Then the waiting period commenced, that solid year of waiting for the official papers to come through.  

What is my official legal adoption day?  When I became their daughter "for life" according to the courts and the state?

March 25, 1968.  

And the court allowed the waiting period to end five days early, how about that?  A little bonus there.  My brother's waiting time period actually ended a month early.  His official day is 

September 28, 1965.

Wow.....  March 25th, 1968

When I talked to my brother about this, he and I agreed that truly the "DAY WE CAME HOME" was our adoption day.  It was the day to be remembered.  January 11 and August 6.  Those are the days joy came home.  I'm sure my parents had faith that nothing was going to change what was already in place.  I'm sure they breathed a sigh of relief as well when the official papers came through and I was officially their "daughter for life".  Same for my brother.  They waited over two years to make him officially theirs.  One year plus of looking for him, and one year of waiting to make it official. Reading those words in the official adoption decree, "child for life" was so touching......

I think in Mom and Dad's hearts we were already "truly theirs" and in our hearts as well, no matter what a court document might have said.  It's still kind of nice to have a better understanding of our actual adoption process.

And even though my mother always wanted us to know when we came to be part of the family, because it is so beautifully written about in our "All About Me" books, she never celebrated that day with us.  She wanted us to always feel "normal" like other children and chose to celebrate our birthdays only.  We were always told we were adopted, always told we were chosen by them, always affirmed in different ways how much they loved us and wanted us.  They also told everyone about our adoptions.  They told everyone our stories with pride and a sparkle in their eyes.  Mom, I think, just didn't want us to feel "different" from other children when we were small, but wanted us to grow up in as normal a way as possible.  She succeeded in her desires for us.  I think it was a way of her protecting our hearts.  There was a connection there though that was truly special and deep with her and still is there with Dad.  

Throughout our lives whether we actually "celebrated" the days we came home or not, we never forgot those dates and knew how precious they were to both of our parents. Even as an adult, I'd call my Dad and my Mom on my "adoption day" January 11 and tell them all over again how glad I was to be their daughter.  We'd reminisce about that day and Mom would tell me the story all over again.  Dad often giggled with joy.  I never EVER got tired of hearing it.  I'd give anything to hear their voices tell me our story again.  That is no longer possible, Moma has died and Daddy's Alzheimer's doesn't allow him to remember that day anymore, but I'm so thankful I can read Mom's words in my book, and close my eyes and remember those many, many times Daddy would smile and tell the story to others,"We adopted two children and they have been the most wonderful thing that ever happened to us."  Or my mom saying to a perfect stranger, "This is my daughter!" with passion and feeling.  I've never felt more loved in my life than by the two of them.  It has been such a gift. 

When God Draws You Close

Friday, July 6th, 2012 my sons and I went to Myers Park United Methodist Church so I could prepare my children for Mom's  Memorial Service the next day.  This church is special to me because it is where I grew up.  It is where the Lord and I began our relationship and where I first chose to follow Him.  It is where I was baptized and where Mike and I were married.  It is part of my history.... and my immediate family's history.  I think of my Moma working there so many years as the Senior Pastor's Secretary, I imagine her walking those hallways, or at her desk tapping away on her typewriter, greeting others with that smile of hers, helping with the youth, so involved in the church in so many areas throughout her life.... I think of being in the children's choir and all of the activities during my time as a youth, my parents' loving friends, the pastors we knew and "Uncle Walter" the organist, and our times of worship together.  So many happy memories flood my heart when I step through any door of Myers Park Church.

 The Lord drew us so close to Him this particular afternoon....and I was so grateful.

 I didn't want any surprises for Joseph or Philip.  I wanted to help process Grandmom's death and Memorial Service with them beforehand as much as I could, because tomorrow was going to be quite a day.  

We had already talked about death and dying.  We had already talked about the joy and hope we have in Jesus Christ.  They had already asked great questions and we had had some good talks. 

I wanted to show them the chapel itself and where they would sit.
It is a beautiful place of worship. They were already familiar with the big sanctuary, but had never seen the chapel.

I wanted to show them the columbarium as well.....
Seeing a columbarium was going to be a first for them.  I just wanted them to "see" Mom's resting place before the actual service tomorrow in the garden outside the chapel.

It is a beautiful place, this little garden.  Pastor Shane says people come there everyday.  The Chapel is not that old and was built on top of the playgrounds behind the church where my brother and I played as children. It is surrounded on one side by a new play ground.  We looked at Mom's section,  "I am the Light of the World". Every section has the name of Jesus on it.  Her niche is right at Philip's eye level believe it or not

We talked about other things concerning what they would see tomorrow.  There were to be no surprises.  I wanted them to know what to expect and I think doing this brought me a peace as well.

After seeing both of these beautiful places we went upstairs to the fellowship hall where we would have the reception the next day.  I wanted to have in my mind where Daddy would sit at the reception and wanted a clear visual of what might be best for him.

During this entire tour of what was to come tomorrow we had something very special and unexpected take place.  It was exactly what I needed the day before my mother's memorial service.

We had been told about a room upstairs right outside Jubilee Hall where my dad might could receive people.  I wanted to see what that room was.  We found it.  It was the prayer room.  It was the most wonderful surprise from God he gave me this week.  We walked through the door and it was truly amazing.

A stained glass window directly in front of you....

But in between the window and yourself as you entered was this huge rugged cross.....it was in the center of the room.  In the center for a purpose because everything about our faith revolves around the cross.

It was amazing.  
There were little desks on each side of the room in front of us where you could sit down and read, pray, or write prayer requests or whatever was on your heart and post them on the wall.

Philip and I were looking at the items on one desk.  He found this stone.

 It was precious.  There were others with other sayings on them.  When I turned around to look for Joseph I saw this....

...my son was hugging the cross.  He said he felt like he was hugging Jesus when he hugged that cross.  I started to cry.  "I just want to hug him, Mom", he said. 
This plain, wooden beam cross, drew my son in.  This room had such a presence of the Lord there.  The music playing, the special things in there giving us visuals and sparking our hearts, reminding us of God's love, sacrifice, and provision.  God was drawing us closer to him in these moments.  I started to cry when Joseph told me how he felt about hugging the cross.  He wanted to feel as close to Jesus as possible right then and there.  He knew it was not "the cross" but just a symbol, but it really impacted him.  Since I was crying, Philip grabbed me and Joseph came up to me and hugged me too.  We were all hugging each other and crying by the cross.  I told them I was so thankful they were there with me.  Thanked them for hanging in there with me all this week about Grandmom.  It had been so very hard.  It was the most special moment I had had all week and it was spent in that special room with my two sons.  If my Mom could have seen this new prayer room at her church, she would have been so very touched by it, I am certain. 

Then we went to each side of the room....Each of these corners were partitioned off beautifully for privacy. You could sit down in a comfortable chair with a table close by and reflect, pray or just sit and be with God.  One section was about forgiveness.... there were post it notes of prayers on the wall.  Personal notes to the Lord.  This was sacred ground, peoples hearts were on that wall.

The other about love.....

With all kinds of Scripture about God's love right in front of us.  You could sit down by this little table and read all of them and pray and be reminded of His mighty love.  I needed those Scripture reminders the day before Mom's service.  It was truly wonderful to have so many verses right there in front of me on that wall of Love.

Philip started writing on a post it note.... he wrote several and posted them on the wall where others were.  It was so special he could express himself in this way about Jesus and about Grandmom.
Then on the other side, Joseph sat at the desk and wrote his own prayer and put it on the wall after I did.  I put one in the love section and on this section too.

It took Joseph awhile to decide what he wanted to say....

The act of putting his heart on the wall was awesome.... The wall paper mural is of the Eastern Wall of the temple in Jerusalem.  Mike told me later that what the Jews do is they put their prayers in the cracks of the wall....kind of like the post it notes on the wall.  Whomever designed this room was extremely thoughtful and definitely had a vision in how it was put together, even down to the tiny details.  So very touching and moving.....

It is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen filled with peace, reverence, and tranquility.  An intimate place where you could quietly be with the Lord.....
I asked the boys if they would come back with me sometime.  They said yes....  and I told them if they ever wanted to come here again I'll bring them and I will, even to the columbarium if they want....

I'm so glad we shared these moments together right before Mom's service.
I will never forget how much of an impact a large rugged cross had on Joseph.... the tangible, the act of expressing our feelings to the Lord, it makes a huge impact on our children's faith.  I saw it in my son's eyes this day.

To God be the Glory!

My Daddy's Joy

I'm not sure how this has happened, and I'm still trying to process it all in many ways. 
I am happy about this.
I am so very thankful.
I am astonished.
I am saddened at the same time, but wait until I tell you why....

My Daddy is full of joy right now.  He is not grieving the loss of his bride.  It is incredible.  It is amazing.  It is also just the strangest thing in the world to behold.  The love of his life for 59 years, their hearts so connected and they still are....  Yet his dementia in the form of Alzheimer's has saved my Daddy from a completely broken heart.  How could this ever be?  I never in a million years if I tried to predict the end of their story would I believe it would be this story.

When you hear the Lord only allows what you can handle this must be a case like that.  My dad is being spared the intense grief my brother and I and other family members share.  Ever since Mom's memorial service he has not mentioned her.  The day of her death we sat down with him and all three of us, Michael, Tom and myself told him what had happened to Mom.  He was saddened then, and was trying to take it all in.  There were tears.  "She was a strong woman. I thought she would get better." he told us.  We told him Mom was strong, so very strong, but she could not overcome diabetes or cancer anymore.  We hugged on him and told him we were there for him and were not leaving him in this process.  Tom grabbed his hand.  "Thank you." he said.  I kissed him on the cheek.  "Thank you." he said.  We told him how loved he was.  When it was time to go, his words to us were, "Please be careful.  I don't want anything to happen to you."  And when I asked him what we could do for him, his only words were "prayers".  

That first week since her death, he told staff members in his building that his cousin died.  Then he said his father had died.  Then finally one day that week he said, his wife had died.  That was the last he mentioned her that we know of.... but he may mention her again in time.

 At the end of Mom's memorial service when they were playing "Amazing Grace" ...

 ...we had the hymnal open for him and he started to cry.  Tears dripped onto his neck tie.  Tom was holding one hand and I had my arm around him.  When that hymn was finished and we walked out of the chapel Daddy was crying.  Tears were streaming down his face as I walked beside him.  It is an image I will never ever forget.  At that time I was wondering "Where does his grief go from here?"  We all wondered if he would forget all of this.  Would the Memorial service just not be there in the forefront of his mind at all?

It has not.

Ever since that day, he has not mentioned Mom.  He has not asked where she is.  He has not asked how she is doing.  He has not asked to go see her like he did  for 2 years.  It has been like a light switch has been turned off or the Lord has turned off the water faucet of tears.  They just are not there right now, though it doesn't mean they won't ever return. 

He has joy.

So "NOT" normal for my dad who loved my mother with his entire body and soul.  Tom and I both know that if this had happened 3 years ago when we thought it might and they were living independently that Dad would be so stricken with grief we were not sure if he'd go downhill from a broken heart and lack of purpose in his life.  The doctors even told us this about him.  I believe he would have been heartbroken even last year. 

Alzheimer's is sparing my dad intense pain.  I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd say this horribly heart wrenching disease is a blessing, but...... right now it is.  It is protecting my daddy's heart and well being.

So I am grateful he is not suffering this loss intensely like us, yet it makes me sad at the same time, not because I want him to suffer in sadness, but because I CANNOT grieve with my hero.  I cannot grieve and cry with him when I need him.  That is for me to share with other people, not him.  This is just strange, and weird to me.  It doesn't feel "normal".  My dad has always been there for my brother and I.  If in his right mind, Dad would be there for us.  He would be helping us process as much as we needed him.  We would be there for him as well in his time of grief.  We would be sharing all of this time of sadness TOGETHER as a family.  We are not..... 
I MISS my Daddy..... in more ways than one.

Instead of crying and sharing sadness so soon after Mom's death, we are sharing only joy.  Laughter, smiles, ice cream, legos, and memories in the making. My dad's smile and voice ministers to me every single time I see him.  He just lights up and it is such a comfort.

Joseph sharing his Legos with Granddad.  It is always a hit!

How do you say?  How can that be?  I know there may be times when I look at my dad and I may need to cry.  Michael told me that when those times come, to just tell Dad, "I miss Mom."  Perhaps that is the perfect thing to say and that would be enough.

I say often that my folks are this amazing gift from God, and they are!  My gift of Mom is not physically with me, but all that she instilled in me is.
The gift of my dad is still here and the Lord showed me I have yet another gift in my daddy right now.

The gift of HIS JOY.

I don't have to worry about his grief at the moment.  I don't have to take on his pain.  I am the type of person that hurts when other people hurt.  There has been nothing harder or more heartbreaking in my life than to see my dad sad with worry over Mom in the past, or over his not understanding his disease.  It cuts deep.  If Dad were grieving like us I'd be grieving for TWO people, not just myself.  I'd  grieve deeply, my father's grief of Mom's death.

I am not.  It is a gift.  I can breathe a sigh of relief right now because my daddy is not suffering. I can take care of myself and the boys and not be completely absorbed in my dad.  I honestly don't think I would be able to function if my dad was completely grief stricken.  I'd want to be there all of the time with him, would not want to leave his side and would be in so much more emotional pain.

Oh Lord, how do you keep giving my brother and I these gifts in our parents, even now?  It is so completely amazing and thoughtful of you to keep our hearts so close.  Here none of us knew how Dad would react to Mom's passing.  Now we know.

My husband said perhaps since Dad does not have a concept of time that maybe he thinks Mom passed away a long long time ago.
I don't know.  I don't know what his mind is thinking.  However, I do know that if or when he mentions her we will be there for him.  The staff in Memory Care is keeping close tabs on him.  They will let us know how he is doing.  Right now they say he is very active, and happy and endearing.  He is stable and doing fine.

What an amazing gift.....

And I know deep in my heart, Dad has not forgotten Mom.....all of those memories are all still there, even if his disease does not allow him to remember the recent past. 

 Her pictures are still all over his room.  Her love for him is still in his heart....and that love is bringing him peace, plus the many prayers from you and God's mighty love.....

"More Love to Thee"

The song, "More Love to Thee O Christ" was written by Elizabeth Prentiss in 1856 during a period of illness, but she kept these precious words to herself.  She showed them to her husband 13 years later and he encouraged her to publish them.  Howard Doane saw the pamphlet with her words and actually wrote the music to go with them in 1870.
"More Love to Thee" on the Cyber Hymnal
I remember singing this hymn in the pews at Myers Park United Methodist so many times with my mother.  She loved this song.  When I was contemplating hymns she liked I immediately thought of this one.  When I listened carefully to the words of Elizabeth Prentiss I knew this song described my mother's life so well.  It was her goal, to love Christ more each day.  It was how she lived her life in how she loved other people.  She also like Elizabeth Prentiss had chronic medical struggles and suffered loss of children.  For my mother she grieved the loss of 2 babies in the 2nd trimester of her pregnancies due to her Type 1 diabetes.  She lived with Type 1 from the age of 19 to age 82.... 63 years.  Sixty-three beautiful years of living a full life as a diabetic, always thanking God for each day. She knew she was not guaranteed tomorrow and always emphasized to us her family how important it was to thank God each day, to trust Him, and do your best.  On top of her chronic diabetic illness, Mom also battled cancer 4 different times the last 10 years of her life.  Every struggle she had, she knew the Lord was with her walking with her through every step, moment, and breath.  She was the most courageous person I knew for many reasons and the most beautiful inside and out.

Fernando Ortega has a rendition of this song which I downloaded on my phone.  I played it for Mom the last week of her life when she would not wake up for me.  I held the phone close to her ear and played it more than once for her that week.  We had a soloist sing this hymn at her Memorial Service.  So many songs my mother loved to sing, but this one has now become one of my favorites of all time.

 "Forever yours," Ethel....written on the photograph probably to my Daddy while he was overseas in the Navy during their engagement.  However I believe too, you could say that about her love for Jesus as well.  "Forever Yours, Lord."  Love, Ethel.

Memorial Service for Mom

 Words from my heart today at the service.....

My heart is full today.  My heart has been full for quite some time.  Love does that to you, when you love someone deeply and when they return that love what seems like 100 fold.  If there was something I'd want you to know about my Mom it is that she loved.  She loved deeply, completely, without hesitation, and unconditionally.  It was part of who she was, it was what she did.  Her life was about loving others, right where they were, in whatever circumstance life might have held. 

Today we celebrate love.  I celebrate her love for me, for Dad, for Tom, for Joseph and Philip, for her sisters Willie Mae and Jenny, her niece Barbara, and all of her family and friends.  I also celebrate her love for those that she perhaps didn't know as well as family, but to whom she imparted compassion, encouragement, generosity, or help.  It was in her spirit to love and this love came from God.  It was why she was able to love like she did.

So today in ways it seems like her love story has ended because she is not on this earth with us, but to me this love story is to be continued in heaven.  This brings me peace because she is not suffering from type 1 diabetes anymore or cancer.  It brings me hope because I know Christ has prepared a place for Mom in heaven and now she is there with him rejoicing and I will have a place there too one day and will be joyful with her right beside me again.  Her love story brings me joy in thinking of the many ways she changed my life for the better and all of the happy memories, yet it brings me to my knees at times in grief,  because my heart is so very full with love to give to her and I no longer can physically give it to her.

From the time I was a 7 week old infant and the adoption agency placed me into her arms to last week of her life when I was holding her hand.  My mom was a tremendous gift to me.  When she stepped into my infant life, she gave me the gift of herself and took hold of my heart forever and I was never the same. The lessons of love began in her lap with her arms around me and they continued even to last week when she could not speak, but woke up on Wed. opened her eyes, saw me took her hand out from under the covers and reached out to me and grabbed my hand not letting it go for 45 minutes. 

She was an incredible example of what a loving mom should be.  She wiped my tears, she sewed up my stuffed animals, she changed my diapers, she fed me, she was funny and made us laugh. She applauded my successes, and helped to pick me up when I fell or failed.  She gave me great advice about so many things and allowed me to make my own choices.  She didn't just sign my report cards in elementary school, she used up every single tiny space there was to thank my teachers for their efforts.  Where ever we were she wanted to be as we were growing up.  She didn't want to miss a beat.  She was in my classroom at school as a grade mother, she was my girl scout troop leader, she volunteered at our high school and worked in the office where I took music lessons.  She took me to the nursing home to visit family members and gave me an appreciation for caring for the elderly.  She taught me to sew, to cook and to manage a household.  She taught me to invest money, be frugal, and be thankful for what I have.  She gave me an appreciation for life.  She affirmed me as her daughter.  She inspired me to be a better person. She was the best mom to me, the most thoughtful, beautiful gift the Lord has ever given me. 

How did I ever deserve this gift from God?  How?  So many people don't have this kind of love from a parent.  I realized this year more than ever when God told me, "Judith you have had this example of love through your parents so YOU could love like that. 

 She was so very brave in my eyes.  She fought her medical battles with dignity and grace.  She stood up for the right thing, did the right things and didn't complain about the diabetes she had for so long.  She walked through  many medical issues during her lifetime always thanking those that helped her, and thanking God the most for his blessings in the storms.  

Her courage inspires me beyond what I can really tell you.  After last week, I am not the same and her last week of life changed me forever.  Courage and God's mercy have taken on a new meaning for me.  Love was taken to a deeper level.  A level I witnessed in the love of my brother, my father, my mother, myself, as well as the wonderful staff and nurses at the Carriage Club.  This love was also at a level I did not even know I was capable of..... all for her because our family's hearts are so intertwined with each others. 

So where do I go from here?  What will I do without my Moma?  How will I live my life to honor her memory?  I will keep on living and giving my best because that is what she taught me to do. 
 

Through her 63 year journey of Type 1 diabetes and her four fights with cancer, she showed everyone that we are not guaranteed tomorrow, so we must give our best to others and be our best today with God's strength and help. She showed us that making good choices do positively affect our lives in so many ways.  In appreciating life and knowing it is a gift from above, she taught me to make sure I recognized the source of that gift of life, God himself.  "Make sure you thank him for what he has done..... Make sure you thank him." she’d say.  She knew that all of this life comes from Him, all of the blessings, all of the goodness, all of the love.  I'm so thankful she taught me that lesson of faith.

So I'm going to keep on living and appreciating each moment I'm given, because she has engrained that in me.  I am going to have a heart that longs to be with her and will miss her.

There is more love to share, more generosity to be given, more battles to fight, more people to share our story with, more lives to touch.  She would want us to keep "living" and doing all of those things.  

And Joseph and Philip, her boys, always remember boys, her words to you....don't ever forget.... "I love you so much, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck."

I love you Moma,

Judith

Hands Full of Love

Our hands walking Mom home last week..... There are no words to describe what I saw, experienced or felt last week.  I try to get the words out and they become all muddled.  Images full of the utmost courage, unrelenting love, complete physical brokenness, and yet there was peace through the midst of it all.  God's grace walked us all through, even through our oceans of tears, our Lord was present every moment, every step of the way.   It is  a week I will never forget, have never experienced ever in my life and it has completely changed my life.  When I say my mother was brave, that is an understatement.  When I say the Lord showed mercy to my mother I mean He did in EVERY way possible.  When I say prayers were answered for me personally I can say with confidence they were.  When I say the Lord took me to another level of love that I didn't know existed, that is truth.
We loved to the very end.....until hours before her passing.  And we all wanted to be there for her when she drew her last breath, but we were not.  We had been around her bedside for days as a family.  All four of us together, Tom, Dad, Mom and I.  There was plenty of opportunity for this to take place.  Yet, it didn't.  God knew my Daddy's time constraints and limitations with his dementia and just being almost 80.  He knew I could not stay the night due to Mike being out of town and me having to get home to the boys.  Mom though she could not speak for 4 days would have told me to "Go Home" and be with the boys, their needs were greater than hers.  I can hear her voice now.
She passed alone, without us holding her hand.  The Hospice Social Worker told me that perhaps because my mom loved us so very much, that maybe she didn't pass in our presence because she couldn't say goodbye while we were there, it would hurt her too much to do that because she knows how much we love her and she didn't want to hurt us any more than necessary.   That sounds so much like her and how she is, you just never know.  I do know that there was such a peace about her all week and in her room.  The presence of the Holy Spirit and his love for all of us, especially Mom, was in that room.  I could feel it.  I told her late Saturday night when it was just she and I alone, that it was ok if she had to go.  "It's ok Moma if you have to go."  I said it twice very close to her face.  I told her the boys would be ok.  We would be ok.  I can imagine she must have been thinking about the boys this week and how they were taking all of this.  She thought more of them and us than she did herself.  Six hours after Tom and I left at 10pm, she went to be in the arms of her Lord.

These are the hands that held her that week.... and there are stories for each of our hands, especially Tom and I.  Tom started it all with the photo below a week before she died.  Like I said before, this week completely changed my life forever.  

I love you Moma.  I miss you.