Life Without Mother

Dear Mom,

Where do I even start? Today was long. Good, but long. First the graduation of a friend this morning and then my own graduation party this afternoon. The party was great–I came home from the graduation to find the house decorated with all sorts of decorations and balloons and food of course. It was beautiful and such a surprise (honestly I wasn’t expecting anything like that) and I was so happy. And then Daddy told me to open the graduation gift from him. And it made me even more happy. It was a ring. The ring I really wanted more than anything but didn’t think I’d ever get. The ring we thought we’d lost. Your wedding ring. It was the ring that I’d asked Daddy if I could have as my purity promise ring since you couldn’t go shopping with me for one for my 18th birthday (it’s okay, I forgive you). And that made my day.
Then I read the card and I almost cried. It wasn’t the card or the words that made me almost tear up. It’s what was missing. Signed at the bottom were the words, “I love you, Dad” but “Mom” was not there. You aren’t here and I don’t know what else to say…
Actually, I do have something else to say. God really knows how to shake any sense of stability from the foundations we build on earth. You were part of that stable foundation of my family–my perfectly normal, but weird, stable family. It’s like when playing Jenga and you take one of the bricks from towards the bottom and you have to be super slow and careful so as not to topple any of the other bricks. But God took the brick out quick and the tower shook super bad because that brick wasn’t ready to go (or the others weren’t ready to lose it yet, really). Yet the tower didn’t fall. It shook a little, but the rest of the tower stayed upright. Because God held it in His hands. Some might call that cheating (if we go along with the rules of the game) but I call it taking care of His creation. He’s playing a game of one–He is the only one in control, so He can hold that tower if he wants to. And that’s what He wants because we are His creation. The other bricks can still feel the loss of the one that had been part of their foundation, but they are able to stabilize themselves once more with the guidance of His hands.
Wow, that’s something I never thought I’d do–compare life to Jenga–but, hey, it works right? Anyways, I did end the evening having shed a couple of tears after the guests had left and I was left without the distraction of conversation. I was left thinking of that card again. The blank space for your name. But I know that your name and my name are both written in the most important space there is: the Book of Life. That book that already has a check by your name for who has entered the throne room of the Father. Someday I’ll join you there. Until then, I love you.

Your daughter,
Hannah