Tag Archives: Heaven

Grandpa Welcomed Her Home

This week has flown by like a flash of lightning. Yet it feels like an eternity since we arrived in Ohio on Monday night. We turned into in my sister’s driveway at 9:15 pm and carried our luggage into the house. We embraced and chatted about plans for our visit…not ready to acknowledge what we were both thinking. This would be a bittersweet gathering. We were happy to all be together at Grandma’s but felt a deep anguish knowing this would be our first Thanksgiving without my Mother.

As we returned to the kitchen, the illuminated screen of my sister’s phone caught her eye. The notifications revealed a missed call from our step-father. The text message that had just arrived demanded her attention. The smile on her face was replaced with knitted brow and her eyes conveyed an air of confusion. Her voice quivered as she shared the brief message that had arrived at 9:30 pm “Mom passed”. His Mother, our Grandmother, was gone.

We rushed to the hospital to join our family. Everyone was in shock. Our sister Elli (who lives in Georgia) had visited with Grandma earlier in the day and had talked with her briefly over the phone during dinner. Grandma had been home from the hospital for three weeks and was doing good. She was excited to have everyone home this year for Thanksgiving.

We embraced one another and shared our tears…our pain…for yet another loss. My heart was breaking for my step-father. Exactly eleven weeks ago, Mom…his wife of 30 years, was welcomed to Heaven. And now, his lightly scabbed wound ripped open by the passing of his Mother. I lost the battle to hold back my tears the second I saw the pain in his eyes. When we embraced, I was overwhelmed by the intensity of my pain. It felt as if a carnival strongman was pounding my bruised heart with a sledgehammer. I managed to choke out a faint “I’m so sorry” between the sobs. We took turns visiting with Grandma while waiting for her transport. I was eerily comforted to see the familiar faces of the gentlemen from the Laubenthal-Mercado Funeral Home.

After deciding on a game plan for the next day, we split company with hugs. Elli was tentative about returning our Grandparent’s house (where they were staying) with her young boys. I’m sure her apprehension was growing as they navigated the train tracks and drove the last mile on the snow-covered road. The headlights on their Acura pierced the darkness to reveal a 10 point buck waiting for her in the front yard. She was shocked that the buck didn’t run away when they pulled into the driveway. Elli’s jaw dropped in disbelief as the buck continued to stand in the grass and look back at them…even when they poured out of the car.

At that moment, God spoke to Elli’s heart and comforted her soul. His still voice confirmed what she had believed to be true. Grandpa and Grandma were no longer separated by the temporary and eternal worlds. After 12 years of being apart, they were now together in Heaven. To Elli, and to me, The buck symbolized Grandpa welcoming Grandma to their eternal home.

Elli’s heart overflowed with peace…with an immense joy…knowing that God provided a vision to satisfy her need for confirmation…a need that she didn’t realize she had until it was fulfilled.

With this realization, the buck walked across the road to the edge of the vacant field. He paused for a moment…as if saying “good-bye”. Then, emerging out of the shadows, a doe stepped into the glow of the street light. A tearful smile spread across Elli’s face as she watched the pair disappear into the night.

My heart leapt in my chest when Elli shared her experience with me. I thought back to the beautiful sunset that God sent to us with Mom’s passing. Both were very different imagery but spoke to us the same way. And although we miss our loved ones desperately, we are humbled that God cares enough to deliver specific signs that speak to us in ways that others may not understand or embrace.

A Letter to Mom

Hi Mom,

Been thinking about you a lot lately. I miss you…so very, very much. I long for our weekly conversations. No specific topic…just chatter about the seemingly insignificant events that played out since we last talked. Funny how those discussions don’t feel so trivial any more. They have taken on a whole new meaning. I now see them as the medium in which we expressed our love. Not by the specific words that passed between us…but by the time we spent sharing…keeping in touch over the miles.

Every weekend, I find myself habitually reaching for the phone to call you. You’re still at the top of my favorites list and contact list. When I added your number, I entered “A Mom” to make sure you sorted to the top…easily accessible…always visible…always there. I can’t bring myself to remove your number. When the phone rings, I hold my breath for an instant…wondering if you are on the other end. Then reality comes crashing down on me. I will never get to hear your voice again. Never again chuckle at the messages you left that usually started with “I’m not wanting anything…just calling to see what you’re into. You don’t have to call me back. Talk to you later.”

I wish I could have spent more time with you over the past two years. When I look back on those days, I get angry. No…stronger than that…I become enraged. To borrow your words…“Fit to be tied!” I’m livid that the cancer prevented me from traveling long distances…from coming home to visit. And no, I’m not mad at God. I know there’s a reason that I had to experience the cancer…but I DO wish He would let me in on the secret. No, I’m just mad at the circumstances…mad about the lingering side effects that have a daily impact on my life…mad that we didn’t get a chance to make up for all that lost time.

But I digress. You know how I ramble on and on…and on. Let’s get back to you. I just gotta ask…So, how’s that new body working out for you? I bet you’re thrilled that all of the needles and tubes and staples are gone. No one waking you up for more tests…more needle sticks or to take your temperature. I can see you beaming from ear to ear as you look at your new, shimmering skin. Bruises gone. I bet you’re walking on air…on cloud nine! OK…OK…I just couldn’t resist the clichés. You gotta admit it…now that’s funny, eh?!

I know there’s a lot of worshiping going on in Heaven. How’s the singing work? Do you automatically know the words or is it kinda like karaoke? You know I can’t sing worth anything…not one of my gifts. Which makes me wonder…does everyone sing good up there? I just can’t imagine being in His presence…what’s it like? I bet you’re talking His ear off. I think I would be speechless…which is pretty much a miracle if you think about it….me, speechless. LOL! Reminds me of the Mercy Me song “I can only imagine.”

Oh yea, before I forget. Thanks for the amazing sunset you left for us the day you went home. After we (the immediate family) said “good-bye” to you, we escorted the Hospice team to their cars. Everyone gasped in awe as our eyes absorbed the vibrant blues, pinks, and purples in the sky.Mom Smiles from Heaven

My heart leapt with joy…it immediately understood the significance and beauty of the moment…the significance that eluded me for several weeks.

We stood there…embracing in the driveway…alternating between wiping the tears and taking another photo. We wanted to remember this vision. We needed to remember your smile in the sunset…the beautiful purple sunset. By the way, did I ever tell you that purple is my favorite color? To be honest, I only just figured that out during cancer treatments…but that’s another story. I recently learned purple symbolizes spirituality. So I’m sure you can guess that I was overjoyed to see the image of Jesus silhouetted in the purple clouds. Welcoming you to your new home.

One last thing before I go…We could really use some help down here. We need some guidance on how to move on with our lives…how to live without you. Please help us to move past the pain to a place where the beautiful memories are not followed by the void of losing you. Help us to remember that you are happy, and healthy, and in the presence of perfect peace. Yup, that’s it…maybe you can send a bit of that peace our way.

Until next time…

I LOVE YOU, MOM

He Welcomes Her Home

I’ve previously written about the amazing sunset that appeared over my parent’s house the day Mom died. I recently shared the photo with my Mother-in-Law. As I displayed the photo in front of her, she immediately exclaimed “Do you see it!” At that instant my eyes fixated on the purple image just above the tree line.

Do you see it?

Jesus Welcomes Her Home
Can you see the image of Jesus with outstretched arms? His robes gently falling from His wrists. His glory illuminated above His head.

The day before Mom passed, she continuously chanted the word “Ohhhh…” followed by the name of a family member who had already gone to be with the Lord. She continued the roll-call of sorts…moving through each of her siblings. Periodically she changed focus and mumbled the name of a living relative…once. For a brief moment, she uttered a single reference to the living before quickly returning her chant to those waiting for her in Heaven.

My sister and I pondered her words. We imagined that Mom was between our world and Heaven. She was in awe of the beauty before her but couldn’t find the words to describe its magnificence. Her wonder could only be expressed as “Ohhhh!” Her family beckoned for her to join them. Perhaps the angels were singing to greet her. Jesus was there…smiling…with outstretched arms awaiting her arrival. But as she moved toward her new home, she glanced back toward her body…still in the world of the living. She saw us…caring for her…praying for her…loving her. We think that it was those moments that she mentioned our names….attempting to comfort the family that she would leave behind.

We miss Mom dearly but feel peace knowing she is in Heaven smiling down on us.