Anniversaries

This is a little bit of a silly story, but I'm having one of those moments where I feel very, well, in God's awareness. 

My mother passed away one year ago today.  It's crazy to me how a calendar date can wreak such emotional havoc.  She's not any more gone than she was yesterday, but today I'm having a very rough time. 

Anyway, one year ago today, only hours after my mom's death, some very dear friends were wondering how on earth they could be useful, and so I asked them to bring a stack of things I'd been collecting to the DI (Mormon Good Will) just to get them out of my house while I was decorating for Christmas and getting ready for a funeral.  They were here in minutes and I was grateful.  As I was decorating, though, I noticed that two Santas and a small lit, potted tree were missing.  These were some of my favorite porch decorations.  After searching everywhere I came to the conclusion that the box must have been in the entry by my stack of DI items and taken away by mistake.  Grateful for the help and love shown, I tried to feel good about those decorations I loved blessing another family.  Still, only a few days ago I thought of those things, a little sad again that they are gone.

Today I have been wanting to finally decorate for Christmas.  It generally gets done the day after Thanksgiving, but we had a bit of company, and that wasn't really going to be much fun for them.  The rest of this week has been crazy, but tomorrow is December!  My mom loved the holidays, and particularly Christmas, so it seemed like a fitting activity.

Well, I woke up, got the kids off to school, and then curled up with a blanket on the sofa and slept until 10:45.  That tends to be sign number one that I'm not doing great.  I finally woke up, planning to meet Larry for lunch, got in the shower, and sobbed.  And sobbed.  Out of the shower, still sobbing (in fact rivers of tears running down my neck), I texted Larry and told him I didn't think I could make it.  He told me to come anyway, and we'd get Sonic, where we could just sit in the car.  So I did.  And I felt a little bit better sitting and talking with him.  I came home, put on my Johnny Mathis Christmas music (which actually reminds me of my step-mom, not my mother, but it's a very nostalgic one for me all the same) and went up to the attic to start bringing down Christmas boxes.  The first one I noticed was one on the very bottom of all of the Halloween decorations.  I brought it down, and guess which box it was.  Yes, that missing one from last year.  The one with my woodsy Santas and pretty tree.

I know it had been there all along.  It's not exactly a miracle.  I just missed it last year.  Chances are VERY good that I had not put all of the Halloween boxes on their shelves, and this was hidden behind them.  But still, of all of the days to find it, this is the perfect one.  It is as if my mother, or my Heavenly Father, is letting me know that things will be okay, that happiness will continue to fill my life, even in the midst of the sadness.  I hope it is a good sign for a merry holiday season.  For fewer tears and more laughter.  For joy and togetherness, for warmth and love.