Blessed are those who mourn....

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.  Matthew 5:4 NIV

I have to admit, I've read this verse over and over as part of the Beatitudes, and never really gave it much thought.  Yeah, yeah, the poor are blessed, the meek are blessed, the hungry and thirsty are blessed.  But it sure is kind of hard to see the blessing when you are in the middle of being hungry or mourning the loss of  a loved one.  Where is the blessing in loosing someone who was one of the single most important people in your world?

Mema's been gone almost six months.  Sometimes I miss her so much it hurts.  I see a woman walking through Walmart, and for half a second out of the corner of my eye....  No, not her.  Something wonderful or tragic happens and I pick up the phone to call...  Oh, yeah.  Nevermind.  Where's the blessing?

Then I think about that day in the hospital when we knew it was the end.  I called my friend, Marsha and she hopped out of bed early that Saturday morning and sped to the hospital with a bag of diet sodas and a box of Puffs.  (Really, she sped.  The police officer took pitty on her when he saw her genuine tears.)  Then, there's my friend Molly who showed up early that afternoon with a tray of fruit, some chocolate, another box of tissues, and those little whispy toothbrush things.  There's my friends Jennifer and Kellie who took such good care of my daughter while emotions were running high and I just needed to be "Granddaugher" and save "Mommy" for another day.  The hospital staff.  Our family members.  Our pastors and church family.  They all gathered as we awaited her homegoing.  And I was comforted.  I was blessed. 

In the days and weeks that followed, I kept thinking back on that time in the ICU waiting room, and on all of the cards, flowers, donations to Susan G. Komen, and hugs that followed.  Mema was loved and honored, and I was blessed. 

Friday, in the park down the street from our church, a tragedy happened.  A 9 year-old girl was digging a tunnel in the sand.  It caved in on her and she was found, dead.  My heart is heavy for the family of that little girl.  They didn't have any warning.  They didn't get to say goodbye.  They let their precious child go to the park to play and she never came home.  Right now they are mourning.  I sure hope they will someday look back and feel blessed.  I'm not sure how, but the Bible says they will be.  Blessed doesn't mean you get what you want.  It means you get what you need.  Sometimes we look at being blessed as having more than enough.  But in times like these, we must look to God as our portion--for today.  And tomorrow, we have to look to Him as our portion again--for that day.  Day by day, we get what we need, and we are blessed. 

My mother reminded me today of when Mema used to sit on the bench at school and wait for the girls.  Her group of special children grew and grew.  She would sit there and wait on them to get out of school so she could hug them and ask them about their day.  Momma thinks Mema was up in heaven, sitting on the bench, waiting on Hannah.  And she's hugging her, asking her about her day, and showing her all over heaven.  I like the thought of that.  The Bible says that in Heaven, we will be known as we are known here on earth.  I think the children in Heaven will know that my Mema will be their Mema too. 

My Favorite Volunteer

Emily watching as Mema helps with a project in our kindergarten class.  

 

 

 

Tomorrow is the first day of school at Chouteau Elementary.  In the depths of the building, in a room off of the fourth grade classroom, sits Mema's sewing machine.  We gave it to one of Mema's favorite teachers who sews with her kids every year.  Mrs. McBurney's kids make quilts and pillows.  When Emily was in her class, Mema volunteered to help with some of the projects.  But she was always my volunteer first.

Before I became the school's librarian, I taught Pre-K and Kindergarten.  When Sarah was old enough to start school, she was in my half-day Pre-K class.  Every day at lunch time, Mema would bring Emily up to the school and we would all eat lunch in the cafeteria together.  This continued the next year when Sarah and I graduated to full-day Kindergarten and Emily started Pre-K.  Mema would come to pick Emily up and we ate with my whole Kindergarten class.

Finally, both girls were in school all day.  Mema was free to come to the school to help out with projects.  Sometimes she would just come up and bring me lunch.  My favorite part of the day, though, was about fifteen minutes before school was out.  While I was reading to my class and wrapping up the day, Mema would show up in the back of my classroom and start wiping down the tables with Clorox wipes and putting the chairs up on the tables.  If we had been really messy, she would even sweep up around the classroom.  It didn't matter that we had a custodian, she just wanted to make sure the tables were clean and the kids stayed healthy.  She did this for almost three years--without fail--until she got sick. 

After that, I cleaned my own tables and put up  my own chairs.  I'm a big girl, I could do it.  The thing that made me sad was that the kids missed out on her loving presence.  My kindergartners loved her, and many of them called her "Mema".  She got to know many of them, and I know she made a difference in their lives.

So, we start school tomorrow in our new building.  She isn't here to volunteer anymore, but her sewing machine will continue her service to the Chouteau community.  Sew on Mrs. McBurney!!!

Happy Birthday Sarah!

Twelve years ago last night, Mema and I had our first slumber party at a hospital.  We stayed all night in the waiting area at Saint Francis because Robin was in labor with Sarah.  So, today is Sarah's big ONE-TWO!  It is always difficult to celebrate important family days after a loved one is gone.  Sarah and Mema always celebrated their birthdays together because they were only three days apart.  (Well, three days and a few years. *wink wink*) 

Sarah, I hope you have a wonderful day, and an even better year!  You and Emily were the highlight of the last 12 years of Mema's life.  She loved you so much!  Listen to this sage advice from your Fairy Godmother:
1)  Cherish all of the times you had with Mema.  When you look back as an adult it will be those everyday routine things that make you smile the most! (Think talking Mema into chicken nuggets from Wendy's or an ice cream from Braum's on the way home from school.)
2)  Hold on to all of those important lessons she taught you.  Yes, sharing is important.  Yes, you should always kiss and make up.  etc. etc.
3)  Remember how very much Mema loved you.  Just because she isn't here anymore doesn't mean that love is gone.  Whenever you feel down or sad, it's ok.  Mema still loves you.  (P.S. So do I!!)