Every Other Spring

Below is a post I retrieved out of an old blog I had written when my aunt was dying. The other day, I remembered writing it when I was thinking about my Aunt Mary who was also dying a painful cancer death. She flew to Jesus yesterday.

Spring time for my family. My Aunt Glenda died in May four years ago. Her mother, my precious grandma, Virginia, died in April two years ago. Virginia's oldest daughter, Mary Lena, died this spring. And, my sweet Grandpa, Lester Giles, died ten years ago in March ... the spring when I was expecting our first child, Giles Christian, who was born later that year.

Spring replaced Fall as my heart's favorite season years ago. The renewal. The hope. The freshness. The blooms. The rich smell of earth and freshly cut grass. Dreams for a garden and bounty. And now, Springs brings relief and assurance that we have in our Savior who died for us to have eternal life ...



Corsage
(May 2003)

As I sit down to write this, I don't know if I can make it make sense, but the experience is worth recording.

This Mother's Day, I had the great privilege to spend it with my mom, grandma and my only two aunts. We were gathered at the deathbed of my Aunt Glenda in NE Arkansas. These four women are terrific mothers, daughters and sisters. Yes, they will tell you they weren't perfect, made plenty of mistakes, likely have some regrets. But these girls are tough and they love each other. Three of them would have given anything to trade places with my dying aunt or pull her pain out of her body to wear it themselves. Aunt Glenda is dying from cancer. Everyone had been gathering for a sort of living wake, that's been lasting over a week since the word "she won't last through the night." Her family and a few friends were keeping vigil, saying goodbyes, begging God to take her and thanking Him for the gift of her life.

What a precious time. What an excruciating experience.

So to the flowers.

My ever-thoughtful sister sent a Mother's Day corsage to Mom
Mom was staying home with Aunt Glenda
Let's have Grandma wear it to church
My sister won't mind
Grandma wouldn't wear it
Didn't want to
Her daughter was dying a painful death
Not much to celebrate
What if we placed it at Aunt Glenda's bedside?
Her last Mother's Day
No one could bring themself to put it there
Not much to celebrate
The corsage sat on a lamp table in another room
Pink and beautiful
A symbol of the love that passes through these women
For no one to bear alone this year