There are certain days that hurt worse than others. Doughnuts with Dad day at school often causes us to pause. The daddy-daughter dance that is incessantly advertised and then published about as daddies get to take their daughters out on a date is a bit hard, probably mostly for me rather than Emerson and Amelia. And today, also probably more for me.
This last Sunday was a new one. The memory verse at Sunday School for this week is the Fourth Commandment. After class we were in the car on the way home and Emerson asked what we were supposed to do with that? We don’t have a dad! Amelia without missing a beat recited, “Honor your mother. Period.” We all broke out in fits of laughter and then talked about how our sense of humor is a bit warped perhaps. We cope a bit differently than others maybe.
That situation was brought up again today by Amelia. Marilyn started my day with a hug. She said she knew what today was and wanted me to know she loved me, loved us. I quickly left knowing that the tears were on the surface. When I picked the girls up from school Amelia asked why Marilyn hugged me. I took a deep breath and told them that eight years ago today was the day their dad died.
“Today?” Emerson sounded exasperated. “Why would be pick today?”
“I don’t know why he picked today, Em. He just did.”
“He should have picked 9/11. That’s already a sad day. Why did he have to ruin another one?”
Then the questions started from both of them. Questions that give my momma heart pause and sends aching pains through to my core. What were you doing when he died? Why did you call him? What do you mean he left a note? Did he do it in our house? Where was he? How did they find him?
None of this is in the parent manuals. I didn’t read anything about this in any What to Expect books. I answered their questions and choked back tears. I watched Amelia closely in the rear view mirror as she scrunched her little face up, her signal that she is done and doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.
Emerson, after taking it all in, asked, “So, what are we going to do?”
Amelia once again without missing a beat said “Honor our mother. Period.” We laughed hysterically again. And moved on with our busy routine.
Except my heart hurts. It hurts for me. It hurts for my kids. So many things that we were supposed to do as a family. Like daddy-daughter dances and doughnuts with dads and being able to recite the Fourth Commandment without a caveat. So many broken dreams just lying by the wayside.
The Message translation of Jeremiah 17:14 says “God, pick up the pieces. Put me back together again. You are my praise!” The pieces of our dreams were broken and shattered, along with our hearts. And those pieces sometimes break lose and the tears flow and the questions fly around. But God will pick up all of those pieces. He will put us back together. He will mend the broken parts and present us with new plans, new boulevards, new dreams. And every time we find ourselves falling apart, He will wait patiently for us to call out to Him in our times of trouble and He will pick up the pieces and put us back together.
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