You know, all day long I had this window open, intending to write a post. This morning I thought about intentions and realized all the many intentions I had this week that I did not accomplish. So I thought of next week's intentions and realized I needed more deliberations instead of intentions. Rather than intending to do something, I need to discipline myself to deliberately accomplish something. I thought about it all day, in fact. All day, I intended to write about the difference in the two and now here it is, 11PM and I am just now writing. But those original ideas have been overshadowed.
I am just now writing, thinking of my biggest intention this week. It is still sitting on my nightstand. I propped it on there to remind myself when I turned on my light in the morning to find a stamp (I have a book of them sitting by my keyboard on my desk) and put it in the mail. The envelope is even addressed! But now it is too late.
Earlier this week, my sister called to tell me that the health of her mother-in-law (the mom of my [awesomest-brother-in-law [ever] so I suppose that makes her the [awesomest] mother-in-law [ever], too) was deteriorating and Hospice had been called in. The week before I had a short visit with Hope. She, like always, smiled and asked how I was doing and congratulated me on things going so well in my life. She shared some encouraging stories. Even through her own exhaustion, pain, and struggles, she made me feel light and warm when I left her. So last week, when I heard about how her condition turned quickly, I wrote out a thank you card to her.
I had the intention of mailing it all week. Now it leans against my lamp. Unopened.
It is difficult to describe the combination of heartache and relief when I found out this evening that Hope's suffering was now over. She's been called Home! She rests in peace with Jesus! I am confident I will see her again one day! But that doesn't stop the grief.
I want to end with something uplifting. I want to share the fond memories I have of the high-energy woman who was always willing to share. And I will do that one day. But now, in this moment, I think of her husband and how he had lost the love of his life and grieve. I think of her sons and how they've lost their mother and grieve. I think of her parents and how they've lost their daughter and grieve. I thank God that He provided an amazing extension of a family to me. But gratitude doesn't remove the heaviness on my heart as I listen to the rain outside that sounds like how I feel inside.
Hope, thank you for your service and attitude and your smiles and your encouragement while you were here. You will be missed by many.