Dear Anne,
It’s been a long while since I’ve written you, but I figure
today is a good time since it is the fourth anniversary of your death. I think of you often. Having the hope of hanging out with you
someday in heaven keeps me going on days like these when I’m missing you.
You’d be happy to know that what you left me impacts my life
for good every day. Yes, being out of
debt (well, except for the mortgage I just took on!), sleeping on my restful
memory foam bed, and playing my flutes are some of the things you left me indirectly. But you also left me the sense of living
fully in the present. Your “do it now!”
when I spoke rather wistfully to you about wanting to get a memory foam bed
someday has stuck with me on all sorts of levels. I know you felt regret for all the things you
dreamed of and planned to do but didn’t quite get to. But I hope that now you know you did so much
with the hand you were dealt, and I am sure your days of regret are over—and all
because of Jesus, the one who got through your defenses in the end and took you
home.
Every year past the age of 56—your age when you died—feels like
a bonus year. Now, at 58, I wonder how
it can be four years since you left.
What a sheer gift it was to sense you whole and happy as you entered
eternal life.
So I was going to tell you about today, which started early
because my cat, Melody, insistently banged on the closet door—her sign that she
must have her canned food now.
This morning Lois and I met at her house to compile our final
proofreading corrections for our book.
Yes, you read that right! A
book! It’s not the one you read and
commented on for me so many years ago, nor is it the one I’ve written about
these past five years with Mom. It’s a
book tracing the fifty-year history of Whidbey Presbyterian Church. It’s been a joy to work with Lois, and I
eagerly anticipate the day when my copy arrives in the mail.
Later in the afternoon I’ll resume packing. Yes, I’m moving away from this island paradise. After Mom died in May, I realized that my job
here was done. As much as I love living
here, those grandchildren of mine beckon me. Benjamin has a little sister now, Joelle. And soon they will have Grandma Jan living right
across the street from them. What a joy
it will be to develop close bonds with them as they grow up, and what a joy to
be around Dana and Shawn. For them I
will brave the hot Oklahoma summers!
I’ve thought a lot lately about the power of inheritance. The funds you and Mom left me make it
possible for me to be gainfully unemployed.
Not having to use up my limited energy on a day job allows me to pursue
my passions in writing and music, to be very involved in the ministry of the
church, and to simply be around for family.
But in you and Mom I also have the role models of capable women who
molded and shaped my life. Now, don’t
laugh too hard! You know very well that your
early influences were not exactly pleasant, but God used them to shape my
character . . . and he continues to work on healing the damages done!
I’m so glad we had those last 66 days of your life
together. For the first time in our
lives, I was your advocate and your protector, and I even learned to stand up
to you when it was necessary. It occurs to me that I had the same lessons repeated
with Mom in her last five years. And now
I miss you both and appreciate each of you more than ever.
However, I hope NOT to see you and Mom for many years to come
(well, except in my dreams). My prayer
is to give my children and grandchildren a legacy of love because of the One
who first loved us.
Your favorite (and only) sister,
Janis
No comments:
Post a Comment