To be honest, I almost forgot. I actually reached for another pair this morning. Somewhere between wondering where my hair clip was to hoping I would find my shoes in time, I remembered. November 19th. Your birthday. The 4'th one without you.
I threw down the pair I had in my hands (Which, ironically, used to be your's), and made a dash for my jewely box. Mindfully aware of the passing minutes, I pawed my way through the ever growing, tangled mess. I found one, but held my breath until I found its match. Finally, there it was. The tradition could be carried on yet another year.
Quickly I blew kisses to your grandson, hollered instructions to your son-in-law and (for the fifth time) called for Emily to get her shoes on. I gave up on trying for a sixth time and sat down to put the shoes on myself. As I tied the laces into bows, her little face lit up with delight.
"Mommy! I love your beautiful new earrings!"
That one comment stopped the crazy morning rush in the split of a second.
She noticed. Four years now, I've worn them on this day and this day only. In four years, nobody has noticed. Not that I expect them to. It's really just a tradition that was susposed to be for me and you.
This year, your precious grandaughter noticed.
So,I told her. I told her the story of today and why these earrings are so special.
"Today would have been your Grammy's birthday. I bought these as a present for her the year she died. I had them tucked away, but she went to Heaven before her birthday came. I kept them and I wear them every year to remember her special day."
I watched my daughter's face as she processed the story. Did she get it? Did she understand? Suddenly her face broke out in an enlightening, all-telling smile.
"Someday, when I get bigger and get my ears pierced, can I wear them? You know, like Lauren wears earrings? And Samona...from my class. She wears earrings, too. But the boys don't wear them. That would be silly!"
As I looked at our 3'rd generation earring lover with her shoe-bearing feet dangling in my lap, I smiled. Yeah...she got it.
I'm glad I didn't forget this morning. It was good to have her notice and to remember...together.
Happy birthday, Mom! I'm sure it will be "Heavenly".
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"How skillful the hands of the artist, who painted this picture of me. He saw with the eyes of the Master how beautiful my life could be. Where once was a portrait of gloom & despair, this masterpiece hangs in its place. It's signed with His blood & it's framed with His glory, this beautiful picture of Grace."
4 comments:
That is such a beautiful moment, Kelly, really touching. Sometimes the smallest things can mean so much.
I always remember my Grandma by a fork I have that was hers and whenever I eat certain dishes I always loved that she'd cook, I use it. I don't think anyone really goes away; we just have to learn to see them through our hearts rather than our eyes.
Beautiful words, Kelly....and Misae. Kelly, among so many memories of your mom, I especially remember the way she said my name. I can't really put my finger on why, except that she made it (and me) feel very special!
:)
big hugs, Kelly, to you and your sweet girlie!
You brought tears to my eyes. What a treasured moment to share with your daughter. Praise God for the hope we have in him.
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