It's been 36 days since I saw Carrie's face. Thirty six days since she left. I don't like to use the term, died. I prefer to say she left. Because in my mind, and in my heart, that's what happened. She left us for heaven. She left us for Jesus, Mom, Dad and all the rest who are there enjoying eternity.
I wonder what they're doing.
Do they understand how my broken heart can't take that she has gone? Does she understand the void she left in my heart? Does she know how much I miss her? I don't know how to live my life without her here with me. I don't know how to go a day without hearing from her. In my mind, I reach for her and then, I remember she's not here. I have to make the conscious effort to remember I can't talk to her. I can't hear her voice ever again. It's so painful, and yet I have no obvious wound. To the world I look no different than before she left. Broken hearts have no identifying markers.
But the ache is very real. And the time it will take for the ache to stop is immeasurable. I know it will dissipate, but I don't know when. I don't know if I want to try to be happier, but being miserable won't bring her back. But being happy seems like a betrayal. So I fight the fight of laughing about something and then remembering she isn't here to laugh with me.....
Loss weighs heavy on people when it hits. The absence of a person, my sister, is so real and heavy to me. There has been a ripping of her presence from my life. The connection of being a part of her and she a part of me, is gone. It just stopped that day. And yet moving on without her seems impossible. How does the future look without her here? I cannot see it. So many things have happened since she left. She would want to know about all of it.
We shared something different as sisters after everyone left home and it was just the two of us with Mom and Dad. But now I'm the only one who remembers. She has left me here with our memories and I don't know what to do with them. They were ours together, but now just mine.
So as the weeks and months come and go, I can feel the difference her being gone has made in my life. Instead of thinking about a girls' trip to Dallas with anticipation, I feel a sense of dread knowing it will be our first without her. And sadness once again floods my existence. Retraining my mind to include one less person feels terrible to me, because it seems as if I'm forgetting someone instead of remembering she's no longer here. The sting is real and it hurts like hell right now.
Somehow trying to push through to the better part of life is what I have to do, because I don't like sad. I prefer happy every single time. But happy is in short supply in my life right now. And I'm terrible at pretending about feelings.
After I finished writing this, I almost deleted it, but then I didn't want to. I want my true feelings to be remembered. And hopefully one day in the future, I'll look back from happier times and see how far I've come from this sad place I'm in today. But happiness feels like a ball and chain I'm dragging around behind me at this moment in time. I know I have to live better than I am now, and it's going to be work to do that.
In the meantime, I'm adding this quote from Billy Graham. It's not news that he has the right idea about eternity with Jesus. But for loved ones left on this side of eternity, missing people hurts so much.
"Some day you will read or hear that Billy Graham is dead. Don't you believe a word of it. I shall be more alive than I am now. I just will have changed my address. I will have gone into the presence of God."
So I changed it for Carrie....
"Some day you will read or hear that Carrie Walker is dead. Don't you believe a word of it. She is more alive than she was here on earth. She just changed her address. She went into the presence of God."
And while all that is true, I'm still missing you so much today Carrie.
Love you forever and always.
Give Mom and all a kiss from me.
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
Always my sister, always my friend...
How did we get here? How is it that in less than 100 days, our family has lost two beloved members? We all remain in a state of stunned disbelief, grasping for reasons and understanding. But there are none. There is no understanding that Carrie is gone from this earth. In less than 100 days, she was told she had cancer and in a short time, that horrible disease stole her from us. It took over in her body and even with her faith and fight, she left us. Not by her choice, but she is gone nonetheless.
It has left me reeling and my faith has been tested. My faith has been beat down and run over. And I'm left with few words of how this can be. How did this thief find her and take her from us? How did we let this happen? I have so many questions with no answers. The only thing I hear is silence. I sit here in silence not knowing what to do or how to cope. All I have is an unspeakable grief I only share with my surviving siblings first, and then the rest of my family.
And yet it's still my own. My own sadness that will not leave me for some amount of time. I have no idea how long it will be.
I try not to let grief consume me. And I know it will leave me one day. But not yet. Not today. It's found a home in my heart since the day Mom left us so quickly. But it got a real hold on me...as well as the rest of us when Carrie was told such a frightening diagnosis.
She came to my house that day. I'll never forget it or the Hallmark movie I was watching that day she came. It was one I'd never seen before and it had drawn me in. I heard the door open and I turned and saw her face. And I knew. I knew in that second she was about to tell me something terrible. I knew she had been waiting for the news. And when I saw her face instead of a phone call or text telling us all was well, she had come here....and my heart sank.
But even so I never dreamed she would say the words, "They are saying I most likely have cancer." But in that moment, our lives changed forever. Most assuredly hers more than mine. But when I heard her say it, it burned into my brain, as did that movie at the same moment.
Refusing to accept it, I immediately said NO! I told her that so many times. As we all did. And so we began to pray and cast every prayer to God that we could pray. We believed. We stood. We begged. I pleaded. I asked every moment of every day. I had so much faith at the beginning. Praying for healing before surgery. Healing before chemo. Healing with chemo. With each changing circumstance I....we....adjusted prayers and believed for a different avenue for her.
As a family, we circled her in prayer....and we believed it would be as we hoped and prayed. And even though we walked beside her in this nightmare she was living, she was the only one to have a chemo port put in by surgery. We took her for chemo, but she had to receive it to her body. She had to struggle with the effects of it. She was the only one walking it out. This brave, beautiful child of God was walking her Gethsemane. And even though we helped as much as we could. It was so hard to watch. It was unbearable to see it.
Our help to her became the thing to do to ease her days and make us busy at doing anything for her that we could. Acts of service for her became the normal. This woman who had been such a servant to others was reduced to being waited on hand and foot. Being served instead of serving wasn't easy for her. This woman who thrived on doing for others, was having to endure being sidelined. And as she struggled with her inability to do the common every day things, someone would say, "There are better days ahead." "It won't always be like this."
But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, it was obvious she wasn't getting better. But we still prayed and hoped. And believed.
Until....
The last night we spent with her was like no other and I'd never wish it on my worst enemy. I'll not speak of it. It was too much to watch, most certainly too much to endure. The struggle was intense as she made her readiness to leave this world. And us.
So one week ago, on her third time in a hospital in less than three weeks, she told us to let her go. She insisted. There would be no discussion. It was as she would have it and no other way.
When we obliged our youngest sister of her request.....her demand....so many hearts broke, because we knew it would be unbearable to let her go. It is the most pain I've ever felt in my life.
So now here we are. Wondering how life got so serious so fast.
I have no idea what the future of this life will look like without her.
But surely our broken hearts will mend someday.
And with that thought, I feel a tiny bit of hope rise up in my heart.
Love you forever and always Carrie.
Give everyone a kiss from me.
It has left me reeling and my faith has been tested. My faith has been beat down and run over. And I'm left with few words of how this can be. How did this thief find her and take her from us? How did we let this happen? I have so many questions with no answers. The only thing I hear is silence. I sit here in silence not knowing what to do or how to cope. All I have is an unspeakable grief I only share with my surviving siblings first, and then the rest of my family.
And yet it's still my own. My own sadness that will not leave me for some amount of time. I have no idea how long it will be.
I try not to let grief consume me. And I know it will leave me one day. But not yet. Not today. It's found a home in my heart since the day Mom left us so quickly. But it got a real hold on me...as well as the rest of us when Carrie was told such a frightening diagnosis.
She came to my house that day. I'll never forget it or the Hallmark movie I was watching that day she came. It was one I'd never seen before and it had drawn me in. I heard the door open and I turned and saw her face. And I knew. I knew in that second she was about to tell me something terrible. I knew she had been waiting for the news. And when I saw her face instead of a phone call or text telling us all was well, she had come here....and my heart sank.
But even so I never dreamed she would say the words, "They are saying I most likely have cancer." But in that moment, our lives changed forever. Most assuredly hers more than mine. But when I heard her say it, it burned into my brain, as did that movie at the same moment.
Refusing to accept it, I immediately said NO! I told her that so many times. As we all did. And so we began to pray and cast every prayer to God that we could pray. We believed. We stood. We begged. I pleaded. I asked every moment of every day. I had so much faith at the beginning. Praying for healing before surgery. Healing before chemo. Healing with chemo. With each changing circumstance I....we....adjusted prayers and believed for a different avenue for her.
As a family, we circled her in prayer....and we believed it would be as we hoped and prayed. And even though we walked beside her in this nightmare she was living, she was the only one to have a chemo port put in by surgery. We took her for chemo, but she had to receive it to her body. She had to struggle with the effects of it. She was the only one walking it out. This brave, beautiful child of God was walking her Gethsemane. And even though we helped as much as we could. It was so hard to watch. It was unbearable to see it.
Our help to her became the thing to do to ease her days and make us busy at doing anything for her that we could. Acts of service for her became the normal. This woman who had been such a servant to others was reduced to being waited on hand and foot. Being served instead of serving wasn't easy for her. This woman who thrived on doing for others, was having to endure being sidelined. And as she struggled with her inability to do the common every day things, someone would say, "There are better days ahead." "It won't always be like this."
But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, it was obvious she wasn't getting better. But we still prayed and hoped. And believed.
Until....
The last night we spent with her was like no other and I'd never wish it on my worst enemy. I'll not speak of it. It was too much to watch, most certainly too much to endure. The struggle was intense as she made her readiness to leave this world. And us.
So one week ago, on her third time in a hospital in less than three weeks, she told us to let her go. She insisted. There would be no discussion. It was as she would have it and no other way.
When we obliged our youngest sister of her request.....her demand....so many hearts broke, because we knew it would be unbearable to let her go. It is the most pain I've ever felt in my life.
So now here we are. Wondering how life got so serious so fast.
I have no idea what the future of this life will look like without her.
But surely our broken hearts will mend someday.
And with that thought, I feel a tiny bit of hope rise up in my heart.
Love you forever and always Carrie.
Give everyone a kiss from me.
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
Love you forever and always Mom
I love the funny side of life. It's my favorite part. But sometimes you can't hide from the other. The last two months have been life changing, and the fun and funny have taken a backseat to the other. Because of that, I've avoided my blog. I don't want to express what I'm feeling. It's personal and private and I don't want to share. But here I am, not being funny.
It's been two months since my mother left this earth, and it's been just as I feared it would be. Sad, melancholy and anything but fun. I don't want to go on and on about it every time I'm here, but it's where I am in my life and I can't ignore it or deny it. But it's not easy. Because if it wasn't hard enough to lose Mom, the added heartache of watching Carrie battle for her life makes it so much worse. And as I see it happening right in front of me, I think I understand why Mom's not here.
Standing by helplessly watching someone you love fight the hardest battle of her life, is the most difficult thing I've ever experienced. It's not easy to watch her walk it out, even though she is braver than I've ever dreamed of being. And as I see this mission that Carrie's on right now, I don't know if Mom could take it. In fact I know she couldn't.
I'm not sure if Billie June and Jesus had a secret plan for her exit, but it just feels like she knew she wasn't going to be here much longer. If she DID know, she kept it a secret from the rest of us. In hindsight, the fact that she was hurrying to get her Christmas gifts completed before Thanksgiving, may have been a clue. She tried her hardest to get all of her shopping finished and everything wrapped. In the weeks after she passed, it made us curious about her frantic pace.
There were other signs as well and it's made us wonder what she knew. The look on her face when someone mentioned an upcoming important event, or a special moment we wanted her to be in attendance for. She seemed to want to say she wasn't promising anything to us.
I know she realized we would all miss her like crazy. She knew we wanted her with us and to make this life with her in it last longer. But we didn't get our way.
This past week has been especially hard for some reason. I don't know why. But Owen and I had a moment when we both felt it and knew we had to move on, or be reduced to puddles of tears.
But I can't outrun this. And I can't hide from it. This feeling of loss follows me around as if someone attached it to my backside like a little red wagon. Following me wherever I go as a reminder that I've lost her. I can feel the separation as if I could touch it with my hands. And with that comes the realization once again that our afternoon conversations will be no more. There is a Billie June sized emptiness in my midst. I'm thankful I have so many remembrances from our 58 years together, but I'm selfish. I wanted more.
My memories will have to be enough now.
I realized a couple of weeks ago I was the last person to talk to her when she was in a coherent state. That night at the hospital I went in to tell her goodnight, not knowing it was goodbye. I didn't know it would be our last quiet moment together. Our last conversation. And I will never forget it. The look she gave me, her last look at my face. It seemed as if she wanted to tell me something. How I wish I had stayed longer. How I wish she had told me what she wanted to say to me. But the next day she had taken that turn, not to come back to us.
So as I move forward without her, I have to trust God. I know he will fix my heart, my hurt. But that doesn't include bringing her back. Learning to live without her is the only thing to do. Because I don't want to feel this way forever. I want more. More happiness. More joy. More fun times. Even if I don't feel it now, because this place of loss is a hard place.
So when I often feel the physical presence of my mother's absence, I have to remember of God's faithfulness, mercy, love and grace. I know it will see me through. It has to, because I have nothing else.
On this first Valentine's day without her, I remember my mother's love and it makes me grateful.
Grateful she was mine.
Of all the millions of mothers in the world....
God gave her to me.
Oh how he loves me...
It's been two months since my mother left this earth, and it's been just as I feared it would be. Sad, melancholy and anything but fun. I don't want to go on and on about it every time I'm here, but it's where I am in my life and I can't ignore it or deny it. But it's not easy. Because if it wasn't hard enough to lose Mom, the added heartache of watching Carrie battle for her life makes it so much worse. And as I see it happening right in front of me, I think I understand why Mom's not here.
Standing by helplessly watching someone you love fight the hardest battle of her life, is the most difficult thing I've ever experienced. It's not easy to watch her walk it out, even though she is braver than I've ever dreamed of being. And as I see this mission that Carrie's on right now, I don't know if Mom could take it. In fact I know she couldn't.
I'm not sure if Billie June and Jesus had a secret plan for her exit, but it just feels like she knew she wasn't going to be here much longer. If she DID know, she kept it a secret from the rest of us. In hindsight, the fact that she was hurrying to get her Christmas gifts completed before Thanksgiving, may have been a clue. She tried her hardest to get all of her shopping finished and everything wrapped. In the weeks after she passed, it made us curious about her frantic pace.
There were other signs as well and it's made us wonder what she knew. The look on her face when someone mentioned an upcoming important event, or a special moment we wanted her to be in attendance for. She seemed to want to say she wasn't promising anything to us.
I know she realized we would all miss her like crazy. She knew we wanted her with us and to make this life with her in it last longer. But we didn't get our way.
This past week has been especially hard for some reason. I don't know why. But Owen and I had a moment when we both felt it and knew we had to move on, or be reduced to puddles of tears.
But I can't outrun this. And I can't hide from it. This feeling of loss follows me around as if someone attached it to my backside like a little red wagon. Following me wherever I go as a reminder that I've lost her. I can feel the separation as if I could touch it with my hands. And with that comes the realization once again that our afternoon conversations will be no more. There is a Billie June sized emptiness in my midst. I'm thankful I have so many remembrances from our 58 years together, but I'm selfish. I wanted more.
My memories will have to be enough now.
I realized a couple of weeks ago I was the last person to talk to her when she was in a coherent state. That night at the hospital I went in to tell her goodnight, not knowing it was goodbye. I didn't know it would be our last quiet moment together. Our last conversation. And I will never forget it. The look she gave me, her last look at my face. It seemed as if she wanted to tell me something. How I wish I had stayed longer. How I wish she had told me what she wanted to say to me. But the next day she had taken that turn, not to come back to us.
So as I move forward without her, I have to trust God. I know he will fix my heart, my hurt. But that doesn't include bringing her back. Learning to live without her is the only thing to do. Because I don't want to feel this way forever. I want more. More happiness. More joy. More fun times. Even if I don't feel it now, because this place of loss is a hard place.
So when I often feel the physical presence of my mother's absence, I have to remember of God's faithfulness, mercy, love and grace. I know it will see me through. It has to, because I have nothing else.
On this first Valentine's day without her, I remember my mother's love and it makes me grateful.
Grateful she was mine.
Of all the millions of mothers in the world....
God gave her to me.
Oh how he loves me...
Friday, January 12, 2018
Lets look at some snaps today
Today I looked through some of my drafts I'd been working on weeks ago and I found this one that made me smile multi times. So I'm going with it. We haven't seen some snaps in a while so get ready.
It's cold outside and I'm sitting on the couch in front of a fire. Not bad for a Friday night.
Lets do this...
| I'm nothing if not cool at all times. This pic proves it for reals. |
| But this is a cool beans dude right here. |
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| So many good things about this snap. |
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| They were gigging me because they know this is not true. This is where all pretentious food items live. |
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| A little Marilyn Monroe on Jack I think. |
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| A little Norma Desmond on the Mom. |
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| Emma was snapping me because I snapped her to tell her to snap me a pic of her in that dress she was wearing. Got all that? |
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| This was the outfit I wanted to see. |
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| We don't know what day it actually was though. |
| Agreed. |
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| Hashtag owning it. |
| No need for a caption when something is this awesome. |
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| You could be hiding lots of things under those leaves. |
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| Seriously hides a bad hair day if you're having one. |
| I look so normal compared to what I'd look like with my color. |
| This made me laugh. |
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| Pink Panther crept into Emma's shot. |
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| Must have run out of pillows. |
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| Surprises are almost always good. |
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| But a loving accident. Get it?! |
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| Me and Emma were going to do something very intelligent. I can't remember what it was. But it was smart. |
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| She's a resourceful 1 year old. |
| Hmmm and spelling issues as well. Not a good day for me. |
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| I thought when my kids grew up, they'd stop playing with legos. I was wrong. |
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| I'm not saying a word. |
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| But she don't need no crown to further her agenda. |
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| When is a crown a tiara and when is a tiara a crown? I bet Queen Lizzie knows. |
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| That's a queen with some tude right there. |
| The only true and real queen has been finally found. |
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| What more can be said about this kid? |
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| This cracks me up as well as sends shivers down my spine. |
| This snap post has been a while in the making since Blake has aged considerably since I uploaded this pic. |
| This will never not be true. |
Kit Kat is on her way home for the weekend and the only thing that could make this weekend better is if Emma was here as well.
Hope all people are somewhere cozy and warm.
Wednesday, January 10, 2018
Goat is what she was
Every room in my house has a gift from my Mom. They are everywhere because she was so good at it. Good at giving. She would give and give until she had nothing left to offer. I saw her do it all of my life.
I remember when I was a young girl, a coworkers' daughter died. I remember she went and bought a dress for the child to be buried in. I've never forgotten it. It's who she was. A giver through and through.
She was also generous with her love, and her time, as long as it wasn't during Dancing With the Stars. That show will have one less viewer next time. One who kept scores written down and took the whole show very serious. To call Billie during the show was not appreciated. Believe me, because I did it. Her very coarse, "Hello...." meant what do you want? And I knew to end the convo very quickly.
We all have so many things she has given us, but John has something no one else in the family has.
Here's why.
A few years ago my family was going to some event and we were taking Mom with us. I have no remembrance of where or what we were going to. But at the last minute, as Billie was want to do sometimes, she bowed out and decided to stay home. Well as we were leaving our house I told John, "Mom's not going after all." His response was, "Why not? The old goat."
Of course on my next visit to see her I told Mom what John said about his mother-in-law. Well, she laughed OUTLOUd and thought it was the funniest thing. So when the next Christmas rolled around, guess what she gave John.....
She indeed gave him a goat, real...somewhere in the world....if he's still alive...and then a representation of him in our house. Forever sitting on a shelf in our den as a reminder of what a good sport she was.
That's the kind of sense of humor Billie June Etheredge Walker had. It was as good of one as I've ever seen. You could tell her anything and make her laugh, even if it was at her expense. Of course John was kidding when he called her an old goat. Most likely it was because he was disappointed she wasn't going with us. If only John had known of the expression "greatest of all time." He could have used that as cover.
All of this was prompted by my cleaning today, and as I was dusting in my room, I found this....
Then I found this....
This little box, always sitting on my dresser, she gave me when I was a teenager.
She knew how much I loved this vase that she had once given to her mother-in-law. So she gave it to me.
One of the last gifts she gave me was this little blue bird of happiness.
We could all use some happiness right about now.
I know it wasn't the things she gave me that mattered. Although I consider them valuable treasures, now more than ever. But she was a giver and loved to give people something as a token of her love. She thought about the gifts she wanted to give us. She pondered and poured over catalogs looking for the perfect thing for each of us. It was her thing to do for us at Christmas.
Christmas was hers to shower her family with gifts. She loved doing it and we loved Christmas morning because of her. And the older she got, the more I fretted over how many more Christmases we would have with her. Not because of the gifts, but because of her. I never wanted it to end. I certainly thought Christmas 2017 with her was a done deal.
Until it wasn't.
But there was never going to be enough with her. Enough OF her. Never enough birthdays, Thanksgivings, Christmases. I was always going to want more.
I was never going to be ready for one without her. I never wanted to be without her.
So now here I sit, staring at my blue bird of happiness, and missing the old goat like crazy.
She really was the greatest of all time.
John told her that in his own special way. Albeit by accident.
Love you forever and always Mom
I remember when I was a young girl, a coworkers' daughter died. I remember she went and bought a dress for the child to be buried in. I've never forgotten it. It's who she was. A giver through and through.
She was also generous with her love, and her time, as long as it wasn't during Dancing With the Stars. That show will have one less viewer next time. One who kept scores written down and took the whole show very serious. To call Billie during the show was not appreciated. Believe me, because I did it. Her very coarse, "Hello...." meant what do you want? And I knew to end the convo very quickly.
We all have so many things she has given us, but John has something no one else in the family has.
Here's why.
A few years ago my family was going to some event and we were taking Mom with us. I have no remembrance of where or what we were going to. But at the last minute, as Billie was want to do sometimes, she bowed out and decided to stay home. Well as we were leaving our house I told John, "Mom's not going after all." His response was, "Why not? The old goat."
Of course on my next visit to see her I told Mom what John said about his mother-in-law. Well, she laughed OUTLOUd and thought it was the funniest thing. So when the next Christmas rolled around, guess what she gave John.....
She indeed gave him a goat, real...somewhere in the world....if he's still alive...and then a representation of him in our house. Forever sitting on a shelf in our den as a reminder of what a good sport she was.
That's the kind of sense of humor Billie June Etheredge Walker had. It was as good of one as I've ever seen. You could tell her anything and make her laugh, even if it was at her expense. Of course John was kidding when he called her an old goat. Most likely it was because he was disappointed she wasn't going with us. If only John had known of the expression "greatest of all time." He could have used that as cover.
All of this was prompted by my cleaning today, and as I was dusting in my room, I found this....
Then I found this....
This little box, always sitting on my dresser, she gave me when I was a teenager.
She knew how much I loved this vase that she had once given to her mother-in-law. So she gave it to me.
One of the last gifts she gave me was this little blue bird of happiness.
I know it wasn't the things she gave me that mattered. Although I consider them valuable treasures, now more than ever. But she was a giver and loved to give people something as a token of her love. She thought about the gifts she wanted to give us. She pondered and poured over catalogs looking for the perfect thing for each of us. It was her thing to do for us at Christmas.
Christmas was hers to shower her family with gifts. She loved doing it and we loved Christmas morning because of her. And the older she got, the more I fretted over how many more Christmases we would have with her. Not because of the gifts, but because of her. I never wanted it to end. I certainly thought Christmas 2017 with her was a done deal.
Until it wasn't.
But there was never going to be enough with her. Enough OF her. Never enough birthdays, Thanksgivings, Christmases. I was always going to want more.
I was never going to be ready for one without her. I never wanted to be without her.
So now here I sit, staring at my blue bird of happiness, and missing the old goat like crazy.
She really was the greatest of all time.
John told her that in his own special way. Albeit by accident.
Love you forever and always Mom
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