Early Tuesday morning, February 16th, my beautiful Mother-in-Law peacefully slipped out of this life and into the arms of Jesus. I have so many wonderful memories to hold on to because I was blessed to have a MIL that loved me like a daughter. But as a family, we all remember that no matter if you called her, showed up at her door, or she was writing you a card...she greeted you with 'My darlin'.
Hi Darlin!....My darlin's......well hello darlin!
While my middle son processed his grief over losing his Grams, he wrote this poem. He was brave enough to read it at the memorial through his tears and we all cried...
...because we all felt his words...like they were our own.
When I was a kid,
My idea of a gift,
Was found in the mysterious contents,
Of your purse.
The sacred to me was a toy,
In this case, Bugs Bunny.
It was nothing special,
Yet held it all,
It soon vanished,
Along with my childish ideals,
And a hard night’s wonder.
But that wasn’t enough for me,
In those middle years.
I hadn’t a clue
Of what this gift could do.
It wasn’t until I had my baby girl,
And saw you in her,
That I started to see,
This gift that I’ve been given.
From that moment on,
I heard it over the phone,
The moment you picked it up.
I heard it on your porch,
As soon as I could reach for you.
It embodies two words,
Now I reach back into my mind to withdraw,
Memories peppered with those words.
All of which were good,
All of which were gifts,
All of which began with those words,
Now I’ll always look back,
To this gift I’ve always had.
I’ll remember always,
The love on which it stands
I’ll remember the birds nest
Tucked into your porch’s roof
The pear tree and onion chutes.
Sunflowers, Whisper, and classic books.
I’ll remember the toast with its cinnamon-sugar elixir.
I’ll remember the jar of M&M’s and ice cream bowls.
I’ll remember the smell of your house, your naked lady lamp,
The turtles, marbles, and big board games.
I’ll remember the clowns that hung over my bed (and always wonder why they did).
I’ll remember the fire station, park, purple everything.
Mr. Bubble baths, and crazy basement carpets.
I’ll remember the terror of being whipped by a switch,
And relief after.
I’ll remember being shocked by the tubes that assisted you.
By the frailty that soon consumed you.
I’ll remember the day you left us.
The day you won, leaving your pain behind.
This is the day you’ve received the gift,
This gift you’ve given me,
As you walked into our Savior’s arms,