mother and child

Two days before he died, Mama came into my old room where I was preparing to change my son's clothes. She quietly approached the bed where Nicholas was sitting and she instinctively put Nicholas' small hands in hers and playfully lifted them up over his head so I could slip his shirt off. She even made that "Whoop" sound and it made Nicholas giggle as he was momentarily hidden inside the dark world of soft cotton cloth. Mama greeted her grandson with a wide smile as he emerged bare chested from his solitary, dark world. I plopped down on the other twin bed and watched my mother's hands take over weaving and threading the two year old's body parts in and out of sleeves, pant legs and shoes until he was expertly and happily dressed.

Nicholas turned on his belly and slid down the side of the bed, shaking his feet until they found solid ground. He turned flashing a big grin with squinting eyes and declared, "Bye Bye!" and ran straight legged with arms pumping out of the lavender colored bedroom from my childhood. Mama watched him disappear beyond the door and listened to his quick, small footsteps knocking on the hardwood floor. He wasted no time searching for his brother and sisters who were playing int he kitchen.

Slowly, almost thoughtfully, her knees bent. She eased herself onto the floor. I fought the urge to scoop her up in my arms. My hands began twisting so I grabbed fists of the pretty bedspread to keep them steady. There were no words to say. No comfort to offer. There was no way I could promise everything would be OK even though I wanted to say it any way.

Mama cried a little bit. Not for long. Just a few tears and a few stumbling noises from her throat. She cleared them away. As her hand swept across her mouth, she firmly said,

"I would like for you not to stay very long today."

I had been waiting for Daddy to wake up from his nap so I could have a one on one conversation with him. I had been waiting so long. There were always other people in the way. Friends, family, phone calls, work, even my own children. my hands let go of the bedspread and I pleaded with my mother.

"I have shared Daddy with the whole world for my whole life. I want to stay."

Her cool, steel blue eyes searched mine until they hooked in understanding. It is the same way I do with my children before I tell them something important so they will realize it's for their own good even if I know they will be mad or disappointed. The language between a mother and her child is only half spoken in words. The words that followed stung me, but the hook from her eyes...the soft pleading for understanding was all I needed.

"Abigail, when your father dies, you will still have your husband and your children. I will be alone. I need this time to me mine."

Tears burst through the wall at the back of my mouth and I fell more deeply in love with the frail, beautiful, crumbled woman on the floor. As if instructed, I nodded my head and offered my hand to her as I eased myself off the bed. She looked at the floor and brought her knees to her chin. She placed her hands on either side of her and gracefully rose to her feet. Either years of ballet or her more recent study of yoga made her able to move to easily from the floor. She is deceptively strong from such a tiny woman. She did not need my hand so I let it fall to my side.
We didn't speak but went straight into action gathering up all the things a mother must bring for her five children when visiting grandparents. Mama and I hurried about dropping diapers, clothes, toys and snacks into the bottomless pit of a bag.

Clearing the name of the man I so love

Adrian was recently accused of bringing a poisonous snake to the little zoo on our porch for the kids. After more careful research, we found the snake was harmless after all. I want everyone to know this, just in case anyone doubted his capabilities of being the expert of the outdoors. Adrian, your name is now clear and please forgive me for my mistake! I am lifting your restriction of bringing weird and strange creatures to Cutchshaw show and tell!

Thanks for being such a wonderful father. You not only teach our children important lessons in fishing, camping, climbing, boating, swimming, diving, exercise, prayer, faith, spirituality, story telling, and joke telling, you also teach them a very important lesson in appreciation. You teach them to appreciate all the marvelous blessings in their lives and to have gratitude for all of nature.....yucky snakes, bugs and all.

You are one of a kind. xoxo

One last trip to the office

His office is being cleaned out this week and his belongings will be moved home. While Sydney and I were in town, I decided to stop by and sit in his office for a few minutes. I walked down the hall. I stepped through the door and shut it behind me. I carefully sat in his chair. I looked up and saw pictures of my family. All kinds. Capturing all different stages in our lives. I looked to the right and saw more pictures on his book shelves. And below, all sorts of medical books. Some spiritual books. Some addiction books. I twirled around and saw on the coffee table the latest issue of an Autism Journal.

I looked out the window and imagined him looking through the window checking the sunshine. I spun around to the cabinet. My eyes wondered over all the quirky little collectible things he had stored in there over the years. And then I looked at the wall. I saw the picture of him with J.F.K. and a picture of him when he was 18 years old with his science fair project. I saw all his degrees and some awards, a picture with Jane Fonda. I turned back to face the desk. It was left just the way it was the last time he used it. He calendar hasn't been turned forward. He had lots of notes about "call so and so..."

And as I curiously looked in all the nooks and crannies, I saw love notes from us...his children....wishing him a good day.

I used to leave him a love note on his desk every time I was in his office. Sometimes I would leave him one under his pillow at home. Just to say, "Hey, Daddy! I love you!"

I decided to leave him one last note. I wrote it on his calendar on the day he passed away. I told him how much I miss him. I know he'll see it. I felt he was watching me. As I laid my head on his desk and cried, I felt his presence. And then I smelled him. That really fine and handsome father smell of soap, fabric softener and gourmet coffee.

I couldn't help but feeling I was stepping out of a holy place when I left the office and headed back home. I wonder how long it will take for our broken hearts to heal. We all miss him so much.

shattered into a million pieces

The funeral was a little over a month ago. I didn't get to grieve at the funeral because one has to be "on" at a funeral. One must be strong and carry others through the process. Family members must play hostess to all the mourners. And that's fine. It really helps carry a person through a very difficult and shocking time. But it's all surreal. You know it's real, but your body and your mind cannot wrap around it all. It's impossible to really understand what has happened. It is impossible to understand that the person who has left the earth won't be coming back. It is why you try to call them on the phone. It's why you drive in your car looking for them and then realize you are going a little bit crazy and should turn around and go home. It's why you jump up at their house when you imagine that they are at the door.

So, I floated around in that surreal experience for a while, catching glimpses here and there at random times of the depth of my sorrow. But my tears were coming from some place just on the surface.....until this weekend.

We celebrated at Relay for Life. My mother, sisters, brothers in law, my niece and nephew, my husband and children were on my father's office's team. We were there raising money to fight cancer in such a unique and creative way. It's cool to see a whole community gather together to be able to participate on so many levels to fight cancer. It's something special to see all those cancer survivors wearing their purple shirts having a really good time dancing, walking, socializing, laughing.... I certainly remember last year watching Daddy in his purple shirt carry the banner for cancer survivors and having a really good time celebrating life!

And then, at 10:00 pm, silence is called. It is amazing and powerful to be in the presence of 12,000 people falling reverently silent. The luminaries are lit.....thousands of luminaries. Some in honor of someone who is fighting cancer and others in memory of someone who passed away. Lights are shut off and the whole field, track, and stadium is twinkling.

Then I see Mama, holding Daddy's torch so proudly. She has entered the track along with another person and a bag piper. The bag piper begins to play a solemn song and Mama, fragile and small, walks a lap in silence around the entire track. Then, over head, there is a huge screen. Names are shown on the screen one by one in alphabetical to honor the memory of those who have lost their lives to cancer. After seeing Mama pass by me, and hearing the heartbreaking song of the bag pipes slowly move away, I see my father's name on the screen.

It was at that very moment in time that it all became real to me. It was more defining for me than the funeral or the ceremony in the garden.

My heart then shattered into a million pieces. I miss him so much.

Great Pets For Kids

Adrian is a nature lover. He shares his passion of the outdoors with the children. Adrian catches all kinds of weird bugs and critters for the kids to see. On our porch, you will find a craw fish, birds nests, spiders, bugs, lizards, salamanders and a big bucket which used to house a snake! It was snake number two. The first one was a little black snake. The children were very fond of it. They carried it around and showed all of their friends and neighbors. They insisted on taking it on walks when we would go on our evening strolls.

Then Adrian caught a new snake and we let the first one go back to nature. The new snake was more interesting because it was a feisty little thing! It did cool things like coil and strike! We had fun putting stuff in his big bucket to provoke him. The kids loved poking sticks in there to see how fast they could move as the snake would jump at them. I was concerned it was a venomous snake because of how aggressive it was. Adrian insisted it was a "black snake" just like the other one. He assured me it was! So the new snake hung out in his big bucket by our front door for a few days. He would try to jump out of it (it's a really huge bucket, like for toys) every time we went out the door and startled it. Fischer caught grasshoppers and crickets for it to eat. We gave it water and lots of stuff to slither around in comfortably.

Yesterday, our next door neighbor came over and saw our new snake. She screamed and said, "What in the world are y'all doing with a cotton mouth on your front porch?? It is a poisonous snake!!"

So, I checked on line and sure enough, my husband had captured a venomous snake to give to his kids as a little pet. Nice! Adrian, you are getting old. You need your eyes checked!

The new snake is back to nature. All is well.

Timing is everything....to all of nature

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven: A time to be born and a time to die;" Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

The next time I came to visit, which was two days later, I realized that the grandfather clock in my parents' foyer had been struggling to keep time for the past few weeks. The pendulum ticked too slowly and unevenly back and forth. I took it as a sign that there was more to dying than meets the eye. It is more than watching someone become sick. It is more than tears and pain. It is so beyond our comprehension, really. But I do know that there is a mysterious plan. Nothing on this earth is just randomly born and nothing just randomly dies. Even in spontaneous accidents and tragic circumstances, it is planned. We may not have understanding of this plan, but it exists. We can know that for sure. To us, because we do not have full knowledge of things, it seems too early, too late, too sudden, too horrible, or unfair. But no matter who, what, when, where or how, death has perfect timing in God's eyes.

I once saw a family of geese on a busy winding highway in the beautiful Georgia mountains after dropping my children off at school. There was a mom and a dad and a couple of goslings on one side of the road. Traffic had stopped and what I saw was so sad. The little goose mommy and daddy were flapping their wings back and forth, crying out heart wrenching honks, shifting their weight side to side on their flippered feet. On the road were a few of their goslings, smashed by a car. All that was left were their little down feathers being slowly lifted by the breeze. The geese did not want to leave the scene of the accident. They just kept flapping, swaying and honking. They seemed so panicked. This is exactly how I have felt at times during this journey. Just stuck not knowing what to do. But timing is everything.... to all of nature.

The grandfather clock has stopped working all together. The pendulum hasn't moved since the night he passed away.

The Daddy Test

The Daddy test was given to Adrian nearly nine years ago. Jolie and Sydney were three and five years old. I was a single mother and even though Adrian and I were falling in love (I say Fall ING because we are still falling and I pray we never "land.") Any way... so we were falling in love and I knew I wanted to marry him, but he was 40 years old and had never been a father before. I thought it would be good to have a series of tests to see if he would be a good father or not. The first test was a very simple one.

It was right before Christmas and I had to work at the church for the Christmas Pageant. We lived right across the street from our church. I told him his task was to strap Sydney into the stroller, hold Jolie's hand, meet me at the church, go through the pageant, and then go back to my apartment and then play for a little while until I came home.

Easy chessey! No big deal. Adrian was doing great. He thought it was a breeze. But when he got the girls back home and got Sydney out of the stroller, Sydney pushed Jolie to the floor. Jolie started crying. Adrian knelt down and comforted her. He said, "It's OK, it's just a little boo boo." She let him hold her. They were bonding. Adrian was pleased with his great fathering skills. They shared a cuddle moment. And then he looked around and said, "Oh, crap! Where's Sydney?"

He ran upstairs and found Sydney standing on the vanity in the bathroom with a pair of scissors in her hand going chop, chop, chop! Adrian saw gobs of beautiful golden curls all over the floor!

He said, "Oh, crap! Your Mom is going to kill me! She's never going to trust me alone with y'all again!"

About that time, I came home. Adrian had tears in his eyes and he was so sorry. I know he thought I was going to be mad. But I wasn't. I said, "Do you want to run away?" And he said, "No." So I said, "Well....then you passed the test!"

Thank you Adrian for being a fabulous father! You are one in a million!