I have known this woman for six or seven years. I taught her two terrific boys Sunday School, played games with her and prayed with her. She is among the sweetest ladies I know. Two years ago she had this big-eyed beauty; they had the daughter they’d been longing for after years of waiting. The boys are finishing up high school—one this year, the next right on his heels. These boys have thousand watt smiles and dote on their baby sis in a way that betrays any tough teen athlete exterior. They all make just a great family. Two nights ago her husband had a heart attack and passed away. He was 47.
It is nice to see old friends rallying around to take care of her—restorative, I guess. This community can take care of people in tragedy. But it just doesn’t seem like enough. Nothing seems like enough. I just keep praying.
For a couple of nights Madi has been asking to have a girl night with me with a tea party, chick flick and pedicures. This is a little tradition we have and we both enjoy the time together. I have been putting her off, though, because she is still pretty congested and we had some other things on the calendar. Last night she asked again, but the thing I really wanted to do was to just sort of sew myself to Brian’s side. I didn’t want to lose sight of him. But we tea partied it up instead.
I had a great time with my daughter. She made the meal all by herself and set a beautiful table. The boys ended up joining us to eat, but left us to our Enchanted showing, along with our green face masks, foot scrubs and polish. As I massaged my girls’ hands and feet, I had an overwhelming desire to multiply the time. Seeing the loss in my friend’s family is a sharp reminder that none of us really knows how long we get to be here. I never feel I got enough time being my own Daddy’s little girl and I am exceedingly and daily grateful that Madi abides in that identity with confidence.
I guess I just want to rededicate myself to making the most of the time we have together so that we can give the kids the most we can possibly give.