Regrets

So I am pretty sure there's nothing more "final" on this earth than death

and I'm pretty sure there's not much worse then have valid, bonifide, gen-e-ine regrets.

I'm not sure why today is the day for momma bean to go back and revisit regret,

but one particular such instance really gripped me today

and won't seem to let me go...

Perhaps it was the upcoming holidays bringing her back into my consciousness.
She adored Halloween. Thanksgiving always reminds me of her - chenille sweaters,

chuckling laughter, glowing smile. Pins, she loved any type of holiday pin.

I think it was yesterday when I passed over the walnuts in the cupboard

and thought about nut rolls. They've always reminded me of her and she always

loved them, but now I have no reason to make nutrolls. Nobody else loves them

like she did. In fact nobody would even think to get them, buy them, make them,

or even notice they are missing from our holiday table.

But I will.

She lay in the casket, behind me, just to my left. Laid out in in her rings, her

jewelry, her trademark cowboy hat. Body there, spirit and soul depleted.

I didn't know how to process what was going on, because up to this time I had

never lost someone in my inner cirle. Well, not in the last decade of my actual adult

life. I was bulgingly pregnant and placidly smiling, no plastically smiling? No,

I'm just not sure.

I didn't know how I felt or even really what was going on.

I had received a call two nights before -

my loved one saying something happened, please pray,

see you at the hospital.

Okay,

see you at the hospital.

I kept trying to pray.

I kept trying to find the words as I found crumpled socks on

the bedroom floor and fumbled to put one foot into one pantleg.

I don't remember calling my dear friend to come take care of my

children, but I vaguely remember her being here when I got back.

I flew down the mountain, TRYING to pray.

But my mouth wasn't quite connecting with my brain and

my heart was trying to find my peace, find my Jesus, embrace

the moment and cling to my saviour.

Everytime I tried to PRAY for Donna I would see this hospital room

and Donna was on a table in the center of this vision and I couldn't

see through the blur of just knowing that was her.

My words would intend to pray petitions to God for her

but every single time my words would come out praying

for the group of family huddled in the back left corner of the

operating type room.

I had no cognition to process what I was thinking/see/feeling/experiencing

it was just happening

and before I knew it I was at the E.R. ... I pulled into a space, and

walked up to my dad, sister and her husband standing outside.

"How is she?" I managed to gasp out

and they said, "She didn't make it."

I lost all strength in my legs at that moment.

My stepmother and I had a tumultuous relationship to say the least!

Hindsight says I should pay dearly with my own children for what I put

that poor woman through.

Things improved as I matured, had children, grew up, settled down,

began to appreciate her more as a person and less of a perceived monster.

But I didn't realize how much I had shut her out of my heart

and kept her at a distance until the day I stood post beside her casket,

shaking hands,

hugging necks,

offering comfort and receiving from those who sought to console.

All of these people pouring in

weeping

a constant, steady stream of wayfarers and wanderers and derelicts and

drunks and lonely and hurting and poor. Family, friends, acquaintances,

any and all who needed a listening ear, a hearty smile -

She was always there.

She cared for so many people.

Some of these people I could tell - she had been the only love or point

of light in their broken lives.

Then I stood back thinking of all that she had done -

she was a bartender

she wore gregarious and transparent things! (thongs and pushup bras and bikinis O MY!)

I realized as I stood there

and "saw" her life of people pass before me

that I had never really known her.

I had never really known her.

I was a silly kid thinking "You're not my mom."

I was a rebellious teenager screaming, "You're not my f-ing mother"

I was a young Christian mother struggling to forgive.

I was a pious self-righteous woman holding this true living epistle of Christ to so many

at a distance because I was offended by her lifestyle choices.

At the funeral home there was a slower girl, young, maybe fifteen, handicapped, offering me

condolences and I remember not even having patience with her (inside myself in my ugly heart of hearts) as I stood there. I later asked my dad, "Who was that?" He said, "Oh one of those neighborhood kids. She'd come over every week when Donna was working in the yard and just hang out and Donna would listen and let her help her."

Here I couldn't even tolerate five minutes in her presence

and Donna would spend countless hours with her. LOVING her.

I never really knew her.

I never really knew HER FOR WHO SHE REALLY WAS.

and all I could do was weep.

Deep gutteral sobs.

I remember going to church into a worship service that week -

broken, sorrowful.

Weeping.

There was nothing I could do.

For the rest of my life down here I could never let her know just how sorry I was -

for keeping her at arm's distance, for in my heart of hearts looking down on her, for not appreciating the amazingly wonderful woman with the love of God in her heart - not in word and tongue (cause she cursed like a drunken sailor!) but in DEED and TRUTH. Protecting and caring for the feeble minded. For visiting people in prison, for taking up collections, for writing letters to soldiers and those forgotten. For doing grunt work and laboring and loving and living and enjoying that life to the best of her ability.

I was so sorry.

I probably walked around for a week, in a fog, in a daze, in a sorrowful haze.

And THEN the Lord did it.
My wonderful friend, Holy Spirit gave me the most amazing dream.

I was a banquet - a huge room with round tables

and everyone was there to honor Donna. (Her memory I assumed)

and then she stood up and was waving thankfully at the crowd of people

and I anxiously got up and ran to her, knocking over a chair as I stood

in my haste, and I hugged her.
I smelled her.
I felt her.

I embraced her with an embrace I had never embraced her with

in any way shape or form.

And I said with everything in me, "I AM SO SORRY."

And she said with all the understanding in the cosmos wrapped into

a mother's loving arms, "I KNOW."

and I knew in that instant she really DID know.

and it was okay.

somehow

someway,

only divinely possible,

it was okay

and my regret soared away on angels wings and

became transformed into life application wisdom -

to appreciate those in my life

here

and now

and to shatter any religious glasses I may have

still hidden in a dresser drawer if I'm ever tempted

to fish them out

and want to feel high and mighty.

........Love the Lord your God, with all your heart, mind,

body, soul and strength and love your neighbor as your self.

........judge not lest ye be judged

God help us to allow you to transform EVERY regret in our lives

into LIFE APPLICATION WISDOM bricks in our earthly quest

and habitation.