The little things

My parents have made a habit of each sending me a birthday card. Often they arrive at the same time, but at some point they both felt the need to have their own card. I have mixed feelings about it but have decided to believe they just have so much to say to me that one card can't fit it all. Someday I will ask my Dad what that was all about.

So the cards came again this year. But this year, I could not make out my Mother's sentiment. She's always had good handwriting, but the words were not spelled right and I'm not really sure even what she intended. I am guessing my Dad did not catch it before he put them in the mail. So when my daughter and I opened them together on our joint birthday, I simply set mine aside in order to give her the focus. But also to conceal my pain and sadness.

It's the little things that get me at the end of the day. Certainly the dramatic shifts hit hard. On our ride back home, after my mom's visit, I found myself referring to my parents by their first names because my Mom did not know who I was. When I used the term "Mom" or "Dad" she became alarmed that she did not recognize me. So, instead, I spoke to her as a friend and not a daughter. That is hard and I found myself crying quietly as we drove and she enjoyed the music. So I suppose that's really just another little thing too. Having to use different pronouns doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but in my heart I know it's much bigger than that.

I'm starting to realize that I have held a deep fear, probably all my life, of being forgotten. That fear has probably dictated more of my choices than I realize, but here we are now and I am being slowly forgotten by my own mother. Certainly understanding my fear has helped me hold it up to the light of truth and God is clear that even if all around me forget me, He will never forget me. He even mentions mothers and babies.

Isaiah 49:15

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!"

The verse provides comfort but the release of the fear into the hands of a good God allows the peace to come. Even still, the tears come too as each little thing dies or passes away. I don't know what else to do but let the sadness come and let the tears fall.

I've spent most of my life in the realm of anger not sadness, so this is still new territory to me. But I see how anger isolates us although we may feel protected by it to some degree as well. But sadness draws people towards us and allows us to let the pain go. Anger seems to just add another brick to the castle wall. But maybe sadness puts a door in the wall in hopes that someone will enter in and comfort us so we won't have to do it all alone. Perhaps God even designed it that way.

However, I still think it all sucks, even though I'm starting to see God's kindness in it as well.