4 years....

4 years....
My chest tightens, and the tears are still at the edge of my eyes, ready to flow...
The time passes, and it's true that it eases the inner emotional struggle, but what it doesn't take away is the pain....The kind of pain that you can' explain or control, the kind of pain that is always nagging, always tugging, always reminding you of your immense loss...
As soon as my son't Birthday passes at the beginning of October, the memories overflow my mind and heart....That call I got right after the Birthday party week-end 4 years ago...I was still on celebratory high, still blissful and feeling happy and blessed to have a bright funny boy and a loving family who came to celebrate with us his 4th Birthday....still remember answering my phone while kicking up the balloons on the floor, looking cheerfully at all the decorations around.....and then "Bam!", the news hit...and my heart sank.
I will probably never forget this phone call, the one we all fear to get one day...The events rolled out so fast after that, and some details are fading, but I still remember slowly sitting down on a chair as I was listening to my sister on the phone and processing the news of my Dad being diagnosed with stage 5 cancer....I remember packing my suitcase to fly home...and how I packed black tops and black headbands, just as I was fearing I might need them....how I cried and prayed the whole flight over to Europe unable to sleep and rest and eat on the plane...how I arrived home and got weak in my knees seeing my Dad so frail, so skinny, and in so much pain....how I held his tiny big hand and prayed my simple prayer of salvation and how I so hoped he had heard me in his painful agony....how only an hour later I witnessed him take his last breath, and how everything after that became just a blur of a day with funeral arrangements, the afterglow with relatives, the first night without him and then weeks thereafter of my mom, my sister, and I together trying to figure out life without Dad....

In the 4 years that passed, I have realized that the pain though didn't fully disappear, it did subside.
It hurts, yet it doesn't sting.
It brings on tears, yet now they are more like a sad appreciation of days we had together.
It brings painful memories, yet it also brings healing...yes, pain does that. The more you acknowledge it, the more you explore it and address it, the healthier the relationship with your past is...You stop letting it define you, you stop living in it, stop regretting unfinished tasks, stop wishing for do-overs...you accept it as it happened,  and you are able to move on.

I still experience pain....I always will. More losses will happen, and more tears will be cried. But my hope is that I will be able to rely on this experience to remind me that pain makes me real, pain helps me feel, pain brings on the healing.
You don't have to live in pain to heal.
You just need to have hope that one day it'll be OK.
One day, it'll be a different tomorrow.
One day, it'll be a new you.

I miss you, Papulya....I love you and I miss you....

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He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. (Psalm 147:3)

Summer...

We've hit the sweet spot of summer, I think...

The newness and the excitement of the first weeks of summer vacation wore off, and now we find ourselves in the middle of hot lazy days where alarm clocks don't exist, where we don't have to go anywhere unless we want to, where we play with no "stop" time, and the only rule is to take breaks for meals. I let the kids choose their own fun, and they happily oblige. Each day they come up with new ideas, whether it's from our summer bucket list or a completely new concept sparked by their own imagination. 

Yesterday they worked hard on making their own Lego Star Wars video, today we visited bunnies at the farm again, tomorrow they are making plans to set up our pool and have splash fights...We read books and practice writing by journaling our summer adventures, but other than that, school and its responsibilities haven't come up, and my son finally said that he doesn't miss school anymore and wishes summer were as long as the school year :) 

We are in the middle of this awesome summer simplicity, and I can honestly say, we are really loving these slow paced weeks instead of the usually overpacked "fun" summer days...I know that in just a couple of weeks the stores will replace beach towels and patio furniture with school supplies, boots, and sweaters, and everything will start to slowly whirlpool around the "back to school"  stuff... 

So for now, we are going to fully enjoy our down to earth summer days, filled with backyard adventures, spontaneous trips to the farm or local creameries, hard core coloring, movie watching, and playing pretend until it's dark outside... and maybe even later, because who doesn't love summer nights full of fireflies and s'mores?

summer bucket list 2015

fun with bubbles

berry picking

farm animals

lazy summer mornings

Still...

The rush of the school morning is over...
Breakfasts've been made,
Lunches've been packed,
Coffee's been drunk...
Devotions and prayer times've been had...

I look around and see the usual sight: the dishes are piling up high in the sink, the floor is covered with crumbs of the last 3 meals, kitchen table is covered with mail and schoolwork and leftover plates....

But it's the moment of this astonishing quietness that overshadowed all this mess....I perk my ears and realize that my daughter is still resting, and that the house is quiet...and it is MINE...even if only for the next 5 minutes...because you know--Murphy's law and all...

So I jump at a chance to be still and quiet...I curl up on the couch with my favorite blanket and just savor the sight of my humble home lit up only by the still lingering January Christmas tree lights...

I breath deeply and bring myself to a peaceful place of "right now" and "right here". This moment of complete surrender of time and will, just being present and aware of the wonderful precious blessing of being alive, of being a part of my family, of today, of this very moment...
Thank you, Lord.