Calendar
Year
Last
January, when I bought my 2020 old fashioned paper Calendar, I sat down to
transfer dates of birthdays, write new events, and reminisce on the events from
2019. It takes just a short amount of time to look at last year’s birthdays and
gatherings of all different sorts, but I always do it alone, when it’s just me.
My paper calendar becomes a personal reflection of how God has worked in my
life the previous year. I find myself laughing, sighing and remembering.
This time, I
took a deep breath when I turned the calendar to May. It seems just like a few
months ago that we celebrated Cherie’s 50th birthday. This past May
would have been 52. When she passed she was 51 years young. What will my life
look like at 51? I continued along in my calendar, flipping each page to
another month. June 2019 was such a full month, so much going on with the
wedding and graduations. I started counting…how many more months did Cherie
have on earth after June of 2019? The answer is 3 and ½ months. It was
impossible to know last June how much longer Cherie would be with us, but she
made it through all of the hot summer and into the Fall, her most cherished
time of the year. When I turned the pages to October I began to recount the
last week of her life. It’s that last week that always gets me in the heart,
makes me breathe deep, sigh, and start writing on the square of October 18th:
CHERIE’S DEATH ONE YEAR AGO. The words
were surreal. That day I wondered what it would be like for me and mom and dad on
the first anniversary of her death. No words.
In May of this
year we spread her ashes and tears were shed. I missed her, the old Cherie, the
one that wasn’t sick and in pain. There was a sense of finality, just as I felt
the day of her death. I decided not to write the spreading of the ashes on my
calendar. That will be a moment I keep in my heart, not on paper.
Today was
the Lord’s Day. It was also the first anniversary of Cherie’s death. Most
importantly, though, it was the Lord’s Day; a day set aside to worship our
Maker, the Giver of Life. Today would have been way different if it wasn’t
Sunday. Today I got to cry on the shoulders of friends because we were together
at church. And today, as I sang songs of praise to God, hope was present. In
His timing, the first anniversary of Cherie’s death was on a Sunday. That was
truly a gift from God. On a day when my heart is heavy, God is faithful. As the
tears fell, I was singing. It was a good place to be.
