I was born on April 28th, 1964... yes, I will be 46 this week. Daddy was born 33 years prior, I was born on his birthday.
Growing up friends and family never made me feel like my birthday was HIS birthday nor his birthday MY birthday, we celebrated together but it was always made special for each of us.
On my 12th birthday and Daddy's 45th mama threw a surprise party for us both. I went home with a friend after school and daddy went somewhere. When we got home later that afternoon all the neighbors and friends for each of us was there.
That birthday mama and daddy gave me a motorcycle. I never asked for a motorcycle, but I got one. I rode it sporadically at best, but daddy LOVED riding that motorcycle and it quickly became more his gift than mine, which was appropriate.
For years that motorcycle sat in the garage and every now and then daddy would take it for a ride. Every now and again he tells us he is going to buy another one, which I quickly explain to him is not a good idea!
Since I was little, daddy has always told me I was the best gift he ever got for his birthday.... that's pretty nice praise for a child.
I may not have always realized it, but getting him for a daddy was the best gift I ever got for my birthday as well. I was born to a man who honors his family above all else, a man who loves, laughs and lives life to the fullest.
Daddy is an example of what a father should be.
I didn't always understand that and sometimes when he was tough on me, I thought I was cursed, but then you grow up and realize his influence and strong hand and stronger love shaped me into the man I am today.
As a teacher and Coach, daddy molded hundreds of kids in the mountains of God's Country into the adults they are today, generation after generation has been touched by his influence, strong hand and love.
It is nice to look back at 46 and see the man I called daddy as an influence in so many lives. I used to be jealous that so many students had his time, today I realize, he has so much to give; if only Sam and I would have gotten it his gift for life would have been wasted.
I am the one who got the best birthday gift, the gift of love, laughter and respect for the man who has lived his life giving to so many.
Happy Birthday Daddy, I love you!
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Listening
Today I had two friends ask me if I had posted on my blog recently, sadly the answer was no. In all honesty I haven't felt like writing.
Since mama died, the thought of writing anything here has terrified me. She loved this blog and I couldn't wait to share each story with her, now without her being here to read, it just isn't as much fun to write.
But here I go, although I have no idea what I am about to write, let me begin....
Everyone told me that losing a parent would be hard, I never could have imagined just how hard. Mama died on February 21st, today is April 18th and the emotions are still just as raw as they were the moment I knew she was gone.
My faith, my family and my friends have gotten me through this. But not a single moment of a single day has gone by since she passed that I haven't thought of her. I just want to pick up the phone and hear her voice. I want to hear her say she loves me and I want to know that I am going to see her again.
On the outside I seem pretty together, on the inside I am a mess. I go about my day everyday and keep a brave face, but a simple commercial or moment on tv can have me in tears.
The final thing our family did together was celebrate Communion, or the Lord's Supper. It was mama's wish, that someone from the Church come to the house and serve us this blessed meal together. So on Saturday the 20th, a Deacon from mama and daddy's Church came to the house and served us the Lord's meal as a family. Mama was already slowly making her journey home, but we surrounded her bed, as a family, and took part in the Lord's feast, that memory will be with me forever.
My Church serves communion on the first Sunday of each month, I missed it in March because I was busy with my election campaign. (To be honest, I was not in any place emotionally to go to Church and have Communion that week.)
On Maundy Thursday, I was in Church and had to leave the room when Communion was being prepared because I wasn't ready yet.
Last Sunday, we served Communion, the second Sunday of the month because Easter fell on the first. I took Communion and the warmth and love I felt as I took the bread and wine was palpable, I knew my mama was with me. It was emotional, but I got through it.
Easter was tough. Daddy came down for the day and as wonderful as it was to be with him, the empty seat was painful to see.
Daddy and I talk every morning, it is wonderful to hear his voice and we have been there for each other through all of this.
Daddy and I will both celebrate our birthdays on the 28th of this month, another first.
All these first seem like they are difficult, but I imagine the seconds and thirds and fourths are going to be just as hard. Mama was my rock, the person I always knew I could talk to and now she is gone. Now I talk to her in my mind and in my prayers and sometimes I just talk out loud to her, I just wish I could hear her answer.
A couple of weeks ago she did answer, although I had no idea she had until a friend of mine told me. I had an event on the 9th that I was responsible for. About 10 minutes before the event began I was running around getting everything finalized when I got a text from Sam.
The text was a picture of the headstone on mama's grave that had been put in that day. Of course I lost it but regained my composure and kept going with my event.
A few days later I was relaying the story to my friend Beth when she said "you know what that was don't you, that was your mama telling you she was with you." Beth was right, although I don't hear her voice any longer she still communicates to me... I just need to find the new way of listening.
Thinking back on it mama has spoken to me in numerous ways over the last 8 weeks.
When I arrived back in Florida after being with family to find my yard completely made over, my house cleaned beyond spotless, hot chili in the crock pot and a memory garden planted in the back yard. That was mama telling me that she has entrusted me to wonderful friends, a Florida family, who is there for me in good times and bad.
When on a particularly bad day, I called Sam and said I am having a bad day and within 2 minutes he had me laughing, that was mama passing along the love of siblings through us to get through difficult moments.
The night I was sitting on my sofa, deep in thought and feeling lonely, when an acquaintance, a Southern lady, drove up handed me a freshly baked pound cake and departed, that was mama knowing that everything is ok as long as you have a freshly baked pound cake on hand.
When a friend stops by to drop off flowers or neighbors who have suffered their own loss just sit and listen to me, that is mama helping me work through the grief and letting me know that I am not alone.
When Chelsea or Zack text or email me, or when Donna and I talk, that is mama passing along love to a new generation of Rumsey.
Countless cards, letters, phone calls, emails, Facebook messages all acts of love and kindness, the type of grace mama showed to others through her years is being given back to me now in my time of loss.
The rose bushes in the backyard that have been covered in blooms this year, each time I see one I think of mama and feel renewed.
It is comforting to know that mama still speaks to me in these brief moments. Moments of love and grace, now I just find a new way of hearing her.
Since mama died, the thought of writing anything here has terrified me. She loved this blog and I couldn't wait to share each story with her, now without her being here to read, it just isn't as much fun to write.
But here I go, although I have no idea what I am about to write, let me begin....
Everyone told me that losing a parent would be hard, I never could have imagined just how hard. Mama died on February 21st, today is April 18th and the emotions are still just as raw as they were the moment I knew she was gone.
My faith, my family and my friends have gotten me through this. But not a single moment of a single day has gone by since she passed that I haven't thought of her. I just want to pick up the phone and hear her voice. I want to hear her say she loves me and I want to know that I am going to see her again.
On the outside I seem pretty together, on the inside I am a mess. I go about my day everyday and keep a brave face, but a simple commercial or moment on tv can have me in tears.
The final thing our family did together was celebrate Communion, or the Lord's Supper. It was mama's wish, that someone from the Church come to the house and serve us this blessed meal together. So on Saturday the 20th, a Deacon from mama and daddy's Church came to the house and served us the Lord's meal as a family. Mama was already slowly making her journey home, but we surrounded her bed, as a family, and took part in the Lord's feast, that memory will be with me forever.
My Church serves communion on the first Sunday of each month, I missed it in March because I was busy with my election campaign. (To be honest, I was not in any place emotionally to go to Church and have Communion that week.)
On Maundy Thursday, I was in Church and had to leave the room when Communion was being prepared because I wasn't ready yet.
Last Sunday, we served Communion, the second Sunday of the month because Easter fell on the first. I took Communion and the warmth and love I felt as I took the bread and wine was palpable, I knew my mama was with me. It was emotional, but I got through it.
Easter was tough. Daddy came down for the day and as wonderful as it was to be with him, the empty seat was painful to see.
Daddy and I talk every morning, it is wonderful to hear his voice and we have been there for each other through all of this.
Daddy and I will both celebrate our birthdays on the 28th of this month, another first.
All these first seem like they are difficult, but I imagine the seconds and thirds and fourths are going to be just as hard. Mama was my rock, the person I always knew I could talk to and now she is gone. Now I talk to her in my mind and in my prayers and sometimes I just talk out loud to her, I just wish I could hear her answer.
A couple of weeks ago she did answer, although I had no idea she had until a friend of mine told me. I had an event on the 9th that I was responsible for. About 10 minutes before the event began I was running around getting everything finalized when I got a text from Sam.
The text was a picture of the headstone on mama's grave that had been put in that day. Of course I lost it but regained my composure and kept going with my event.
A few days later I was relaying the story to my friend Beth when she said "you know what that was don't you, that was your mama telling you she was with you." Beth was right, although I don't hear her voice any longer she still communicates to me... I just need to find the new way of listening.
Thinking back on it mama has spoken to me in numerous ways over the last 8 weeks.
When I arrived back in Florida after being with family to find my yard completely made over, my house cleaned beyond spotless, hot chili in the crock pot and a memory garden planted in the back yard. That was mama telling me that she has entrusted me to wonderful friends, a Florida family, who is there for me in good times and bad.
When on a particularly bad day, I called Sam and said I am having a bad day and within 2 minutes he had me laughing, that was mama passing along the love of siblings through us to get through difficult moments.
The night I was sitting on my sofa, deep in thought and feeling lonely, when an acquaintance, a Southern lady, drove up handed me a freshly baked pound cake and departed, that was mama knowing that everything is ok as long as you have a freshly baked pound cake on hand.
When a friend stops by to drop off flowers or neighbors who have suffered their own loss just sit and listen to me, that is mama helping me work through the grief and letting me know that I am not alone.
When Chelsea or Zack text or email me, or when Donna and I talk, that is mama passing along love to a new generation of Rumsey.
Countless cards, letters, phone calls, emails, Facebook messages all acts of love and kindness, the type of grace mama showed to others through her years is being given back to me now in my time of loss.
The rose bushes in the backyard that have been covered in blooms this year, each time I see one I think of mama and feel renewed.
It is comforting to know that mama still speaks to me in these brief moments. Moments of love and grace, now I just find a new way of hearing her.
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