I got an email today, and in the nice way that gmail does, it let me see who the email was from and the first line of the text before i even opened it. I was delighted. One of my oldest friends had shot me a note. It has been a long while since we really talked, which is sad, and almost unforgiveable as we live in the same city. Regardless, it was going to be great to hear from her. I opened her email and read, scaning everyword slowly, and then closing it quickly. The eagerness that had so readily overcome me was replaced just as quickly with hurt and sadness. Alison’s mom died. She died two weeks ago. And I shut the email because I didn’t want to see the words anymore. As if I didn’t see them, they wouldn’t be true. But it was too late. It seems like it is always too late these days.
I take the dog to go for a walk just to get out of the house. To hear something other than the hum of the refridgerator and see…life.
Mindy and Alison used to pick me up from the airport when I would come in from London. Mindy would take us to get Auntie Anne’s pretzles and parouse the latest sale at Foley’s. She had grown up a ballerina and had never seemed to really lose it. At 40 years old, she could stand on point and lift one leg aaaaaaaaaaaaaaallll the way up and affix it behind her head. She was limber and graceful and she was always Alison’s best friend. In the summers when I was younger, Alison would stay at her grandmother’s during the day, and sometimes I would tag along. Mindy always called her mom ‘grandmother’ and it always seemed so proper a name for the cool, calm, affectionate relationship that she and her own mother had. Grandmother would teach us to sew things and we would bake cookies in the afternoon, and Mindy would comy by after work and gather us up to head home. Mindy and Alison came to visit in London, and we saw Cats and scoured around the Tower of London.
I am not sure why people are dying. I mean, I know why in my head, but my heart feels sad. I feel like I have seen and known more death and pain in the last year than in the rest of my years combined. We are too young for our friends parents to die. We are too young for our friends to die. My head knows that God does all things for his glory, but I want to scream at times, where is your glory? my selfish eyes wants to see it. my vindictive, sinful heart wants you to prove it to me.
I am being shattered of this illogical thought I have kept tucked away that I am invincible. I know that this sounds ridiculous, but in my head, really, I think we were born in America, we eat well and take care of our bodies. I exercize and I don’t smoke. We have plently of doctors that can fix us and money that can pay for it…yet, I am not really thinking all of that matters so much. It does matter, and God gave people the wisdom to be doctors and the precision to be surgeons…but that doesn’t guarantee me anything. Not Next year, or next week, or tomorrow. It is being revealed to me the power of God and the naiveity of myself.
We are talking about money at church, and in a carter-kind-of-Jesus-kind-of way…we’re not talking about five steps to get out of debt or how much to give to know that you’re doing your part…but we’re talking about where your money is…there your heart is, and vice versa. And my head spins thinking about all of this but I think most of what is hitting me now, is that we think so much about money…we really do, but isnt it the family and the relationships that matter?
Alison – thank you for letting me be a part of your mom’s life. She was a wonderful woman.