My mom died. September 19 at 9:48 in the morning. She left this world and entered heaven.
My new normal has begun.
Grief is really hard. I’m tired all the time. I don’t want to do anything. I force myself to go out, or read, write or eat.
I know that God could have at any time raised her in healing here, for us to see. That would have been a good plan to me. But her body was declining and He gave her, her new glorified resurrected body that is now perfectly healed and whole. Its funny how that is suppose to make you feel good. And some times is does. But mostly to me, she is still dead and I am without her.
I’m just sad. So sad. I’m not mad, not even mad at God. I am more sad. Sad at God, at what could have been, but wasn’t.

My beautiful Helen Marie…Hellie…Mom

Peace and grief mingle.
Peace that she is at peace, and I have this hope in my Father God that he made her new, she went in glory and rest, but grief that I can no longer hold her hand, hear her say ‘Kimberly Ann’ with her twisted smirk and see her sitting in her chair praying.
It kills me to see my dad broken hearted. Being married 56 years, and to now be alone really stings. Death where is your sting? It’s right here on the mourning side of heaven. Mom didn’t face death, but I, my family did.
We stared it in the face. We sat, laid and talked with her right up til the last breath. It went so fast. That last breath.
Up to that point we were begging God to ease her suffering, to love her enough to ‘take’ her.
But then, begging to let her stay.
I have never felt so unloved in all my life. Knowing and trusting God and knowing He loves me, loves her..but feeling totally alone and unloved.
It is like an amputation. She was here, then she was not. But you can still feel everything about her. Smell her perfume, hear her struggling to breath. Then silence.
I remember coming home that night and just starring.
My ears hurt, they were ringing. I tried to tell Brian why I couldn’t stand the silence, that it made my ears ring because I couldn’t hear her breathing.
That heaving breathing we lived with for 3 days was now silence. And I just wanted it back.
I wanted her back. To be alive.
I keep seeing those final moments in my mind.
My brother Gary and I were alone with mom, each on a side of her. For some reason we noticed her breathing was changing and we both without a word bent down, each taking an ear and began to pray in the spirit in her ear. We watched her mouth form…maybe trying to pray with us or tell us..we don’t know. But we prayed in the spirit in her ear. I called for the nurse, who rushed in, looked at me and smiled, telling us all that mom was about to leave. We all wanted part of her, so everyone touched her, spoke to her, prayed in her ear as the last breath came. Then silence. That shocked silence.
How did this just happen?
How could she have died. Knowing that she was declining and the doctors had told us she was passing. Knowing. But thinking this wasn’t really happening.
Mom’s should die. I guess I thought she would just live forever.
While we were all gathered in the living room, dad brought out her bible. Her very first bible that she wrote when she was saved and we saw how she wrote “there is no comfort, without the comforter. received the Spirit ” and then the date was listed. Brian turned to me and said “do you see what you and Gary did? You spoke comfort from the comforter to her as she met him!”
That gives me peace and goosebumps. How the Holy Spirit guided us to pray with him to her. My mom taught us that. She was always praying in tongues. She taught us how. How amazing that we were able to pray to her the very thing she taught us.
We are finding very special things from her now. I letter she wrote 7 years to the date about dying.
All her notes in her bibles and teachings. I have been reading the books that became her platform for teaching the word. This does bring comfort. But it makes me miss her even more.
My new normal is now loving my dad. Not that I didn’t love him before. But seeing him love her til the end. Lay with her, holding her hand. I saw love and humility to a degree that I will never forget. It is really hard to see him alone now. His other half is missing and he feels lost.
My mom would be so proud of how he is letting his kids love him. And how he is loving us back. He took me to lunch the other day. First time in all my life to be alone and have lunch with my dad.
Maybe the new normal is to have a new relationship with dad. To make sure he knows how much we love him, just like we loved her.
It has only been 3 weeks, and it is still really really hard. I cry all the time. Cry myself to sleep.
Cry when I go to my parents house. Cry when I’m with my brothers. Cry when I see her picture. Cry when I think this is going to be my first birthday without her. Cry as I write this.
Peace and grief are funny things.
Thank you for letting me share this with you.

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