A Town in Mourning: Loss of a Local Icon

I live in a small town on the outskirts of a major city. This small town like many small towns was at one time proudly independent. It was suburban in the way it was run by local officials. The local officials were involved in every aspect of the town making sure everything ran smoothly. They cared about their citizens and always tried to meet their needs. They stood up when evil forces tried to ruin the town. They had a good strong police force and reliable fire departments to help citizens and the surrounding communities.

The mayor of these small towns is considered the "backbone" of the town providing support and encouraging growth. Mayor Frank Kelly definitely filed the role. He provided support and encouraged growth. He also was a champion of historical preservation until fairly recently. He saved the former Collingdale High School building from demolition in 1986. He encouraged the establishment of the Collingdale High School Alumni Association by providing them with a room to store all the treasures of Collingdale in what is now known as the Alumni room.

The very recent loss of Mayor Kelly will leave a gap in the administration that will be hard to replace. There will be some radical changes, some will be very hard to take even though the town has been fading away for a little while. Some will blame this fading away on "white flight".  Collingdale was at one time in the 1960s about 80 percent white with about 20 percent black. Today the percentage is almost, but not quite the reverse. I would say around 70 percent black and 30 percent white. Some will blame the fading away on the economy. Yes, the economy does play a big factor in this. Yet I do see the biggest change in the administrating being the fact that globalization has effectively wiped out the pride of small towns and made them ineffective.

Being Thankful in The Midst of Pain and Sorrow

This Thursday Americans like myself will be celebrating Thanksgiving with family and friends. This year will be very different for me and my family though. We will be missing our mother and father. It really hasn't sunk in that I won't ever see their faces again in this life. I keep thinking that one day I'll see them again here on Earth. It's silly. They aren't coming back.

People mean well. They all say that they are in a better place. I should be thankful, but it still hurts. I can't help thinking about how really quick it was. Was it only this time last year that my father felt well enough to eat Thanksgiving dinner? I can still see him struggling though to swallow even then. I really can't recall that last real meal that he enjoyed. I know that Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday.

My mom wasn't a turkey fan. She loved pecan pie though. I made it for her every year until she couldn't eat it anymore due to her teeth. I didn't make it last year, but I did make pumpkin pie. I will miss her sweet potato casserole with the marshmallows. I know my niece will miss the green bean casserole she used to make.

I am finding it hard to be thankful right now. The pain is overwhelming as I try to process that my grandmother, mother, and father are now all gone. Everything is changing as the traditions I cherished are dissolving like snow. Lord, please help me through this veil of tears. Rid me of the feeling of being all alone. I am not alone. You are with me, Lord.

The Sufferer's Holiday-Surviving the Pain and Loss

It wasn't that long ago that my parents were relatively healthy. I can still recall the last time my father stood in front of me and hugged me. I didn't know at the time that it would be the last time. My father wasn't a demonstrative man. He didn't hug excessively. I can also recall a time before my mother broke her hip when she actively participated in life with her baking.

I will miss them. The holidays will be tough without them. I heard it said that this time of year is the sufferer's holiday. I'm not sure if I agree or not. I know that I'm not looking forward to Christmas this year. If I were honest with myself, I'd have to admit that Christmas hasn't been a good holiday for me since my grandmother died in 2001. She died right before Christmas which really put a damper on the holiday for me.

I have survived the pain and loss then. At least I like to think that I've survived. My parents' deaths though have opened that wound. I feel the despair and wonder if I'll make it through. Everyone is telling me that I really need to take care of myself. It is very hard. I do feel like I've been torn in two. This past week it was finally settled that I would take over Mom's estate. It felt final. There was no going back.

I remember how God grieves for me. I ask myself why he should care. Then I remember the redemption story how he came to Earth to die for my sins. Jesus is acquainted with suffering. He feels our pain. That is a great comfort to me. He is no faceless god but a true living God. Thank you, Lord, for your remarkable gift.

The Importance of Church and Being with Your Church Family

This has been percolating in the back of my mind for a while now. It came to the forefront when I was confronted by a member of my family while on a few days vacation. She wondered why I kept insisting on going to church. She couldn't understand why it was important to me that I attend church. At the time I really couldn't explain the urge to be in God's house or why I felt drained when I couldn't go.

She came up with two excuses about why she and the other members of the family don't attend church while on vacation. Both excuses really didn't address the real reasons for not attending church. Instead, the excuses made me sad. I couldn't help but think that many people give the same excuses for not attending. I do think that there has to be a very good reason why you can't attend church to skip it. Maybe I am old school here, but it has been drilled in me that I need to be in God's house on Sunday morning. The only good reason for not being there is that you are very ill. Yet I did find myself missing church because there was no church in walking distance from where I was staying. It did frustrate me but also drove home a point.

Why is going to church important? Is it to fellowship with other believers? Yes. Having fellowship with believers is an important component to growth. It is not the only thing and shouldn't be the first thing. I know that some people believe that church can go on anywhere. They like to quote the bible verse that says when two or more people meet that Jesus is in the midst of them. Yes, Jesus resides in the heart of believers. The problem is that there is a lack of discipline with this type of thinking. People that only depend on what they hear from random sources often lack direction.

A local Bible-believing church is a precious commodity. It provides an anchor in the midst of life's storms. You may see it as only a church building but it is so much more. Your local church provides concrete support in many ways. A good church establishes itself as part of the community at large and has many opportunities for its members to show Christ's love to others. It creates a stable environment where you can get close and learn more about Jesus. That knowledge is why I choose to attend church every Sunday. I long to get close and learn more about my Lord and Savior.

It does sadden me to see so many churches closing their doors. Their ministry has weakened and they lost their "saltiness" to the world. I strive in my own way to embrace the local church and support its ministry.

Headaches and Heartaches-The Gift That Keeps on Giving

I've been overwhelmed and a bit lost lately. I wish someone would have a book on how to deal with assets and liabilities after someone dies. It is extremely difficult to focus on stuff that I know I need to deal with now. Anyone who has been following this blog religiously knows that I've just come out of a tremendous financial crisis and have been struggling for a very long time to find sustainable work.

The fact is that although I'm in better shape than I  was two months ago when I was on the brink of financial ruin, I'm still far from okay. Dealing with the stress of having to find sustainable work while juggling other important responsibilities is no fun. Yes, I know. People are literally screaming at me to do something. I'm trying. Some days I feel like I'm being literally torn apart. The grief counselors say this is normal. I don't feel normal. I feel like running away and forgetting everything.

I know what I want. I want stability. Unstable environments make me queasy. Admittedly right now I'm scared. The heartache of losing the stable presence of my parents has rocked my world. My head is hurting from the many tasks that I've let go and have been pressured to complete. Some have even threatened me with a future monetary loss. I can't deal with this now. I need to step back and make rational decisions about what my new normal will look like and how I will move forward in my life.

I do know that God's got my back. He has been with me all along helping me in ways that I'm only now beginning to realize. Yes, some days I am anxious about what's next for me. The longing for a stable position grows daily. I also know that God's timing is perfect. I do need to wait for his direction and not go off "half-cocked." His gift of salvation is the gift that keeps on giving long after we leave this world. I still question the reasons why he allowed my father to suffer as he did, yet released my mother after a week's time.

I know that he questioned it too. I know that he didn't want to be confined to that hospital bed. He was hoping against hope that he would get better. I knew though that he wouldn't. It was a heartache I lived with for months. Now I can say goodbye knowing that I will see him again.

A Journey No one Wants To Take: Recovering From Loss

I've been noticing lately that many older people are rapidly dying off. It is almost like an epidemic. I heard of two recent deaths in the past two weeks alone. Maybe I'm super sensitive now that both my parents are gone. I don't have that support to reign me in any longer. I can't see my way past this loss. It is a journey I didn't want to take.

Yes, the experts say that the great loss I recently experienced will take time to recover from and move on. My head knows that I do need to move on. My heart though still wants to dwell in the place where my parents were still alive and relatively healthy. I think a part of me longs to rid myself of the horrible images that keep popping up. I can't seem to get rid of them.

I try now to recall the healthy pictures. Right now there is still too much pain. I do want to get past the images of my father being carried out of the house more dead than alive. I also want to free myself from the image of my mother in that hospital bed unresponsive. I can't. The more I try the more these images haunt me.

I imagine that many people have horrible images to banish. It is probably only a few privileged souls that have the luxury of not having to see the consequences of sin. Yes, that's right. I said it. The suffering that I saw with both parents is a result of sin. The blessed ones are the ones that go quickly and quietly. The image is of someone closing their eyes to sleep and never waking up. It is probably the one type of death that we all want if we're honest with ourselves. Yet there are only a few that I know of that had that type of death.

We all tell ourselves that we're in control. We're not. We don't get to choose the death we experience or the way someone we love dies. My father died a slow and painful death. My mother died relatively quickly but no less painfully.

I don't know which one I'd prefer. We don't get to choose. God knows when and where he will call us home.

A Requiem For My Mother

Reading back at the last post, I didn't realize that I hadn't mentioned anything about my mother. I guess I was too much in shock at the time. It did happen so fast without any real time to reflect. Even now my mind still goes back to the last time I saw her alive and moving around. I scratched her nose because it was itching when the doctor left.

I guess I didn't realize or maybe I did but my mind couldn't accept it that it would be the very last time I would get to talk to her and have her respond to me. I know now that she never really adjusted to my father's death. She was very depressed and had no real interest in life. She lamented the fact that she couldn't get out like I could.

If I were honest with myself, I would also have to admit that she was really never the same after she fell and broke her hip back in 2012. The doctors didn't replace her hip right as one leg was definitely shorter than the other by a big margin. I think I only realized this when I was in the emergency room with her that last time. Knowing this now, I realize even more how really strong she was to put up with it for so long. I also realize that I probably would have broken down much sooner and been in a wheelchair. My mom was a real "trooper." She managed to climb the stairs every day and walk to the kitchen. She was highly mobile. I really never had to worry about her.

I do have a lot of my mother in me. My mother's sisters have often confused me for her when I answer the phone. Well, I can't change my voice. I can, however, use it to glorify God. I have my mother's patience and wisdom. I am learning that I do have to be patient and wait on the Lord.

My thoughts are still all a jumble as I recall the times that she expressed her concern for my well-being. I am going to miss that most of all. It was nice to have someone to come home to and to talk to in the evening. My mom was a good listener. She also had a lot to say. She was an anchor and now I do feel a bit lost. I know she loved me.

Love does trump fear.