unexpected sadness

Mom's death didn't sneak up on us... she was 85, had been very sick, hospice came to the house to help out... we knew she was going home. Even still, I find myself grieving in unexpected ways. Yesterday, June 6, would have been mom and dad's 62 anniversary, mom died 3 days shy of the big day. We took dad out to her brand new grave at National Cemetery and wept together.

I've kept myself busy all day long- trying to fight off the urge to return to the piece of dirt where I know mom's not -but longing to feel her presence.

Friday, driving home from the grave, my 93 year old father sitting beside me in the car- clutching a sun wearied rose from one of the remaining arrangements -wept and sang... it was heart wrenching... he's been singing the same old Irving Berlin song since the morning she died: What'll I Do?

"What'll I do
When you are far away
And I am blue
What'll I do?

What'll I do with just a photograph
To tell my troubles to?

When I'm alone
With only dreams of you
That won't come true
What'll I do?"

I've always loved to hear my father sing... but not this... it's too sad. We talk about mom being in Heaven, what it might be like, how she's with Jesus... and we take Hope... don't know how people without The Lord face death. Even still, today, this first Saturday without my mom in my entire life, I'm just a little blue... can't help but wonder: "What'll I do?"

in it together

That's my family- at Disneyland, November, 1961 -I'm the really cute guy next to my sister Kat, getting "cooked" up front. My oldest brother, Danny, is on the left and Tim on the right. Dad and mom seem to be getting a kick out of watching their kids stew a bit... we were all so young, each of us just kids...

Mom loved Disneyland- back in the days when entry was free and in the evenings it was easy to take a stroll down Main St., shop a little, and dole out tickets saved from past trips to us kids. Gold "E" tickets were a rare commodity... usually saved for the older boys adventures while Kathleen and I rode Dumbo or the Merry Go Round on the dreaded "A" or "B" tickets at the front of the book. I'm guessing that with four kids in the house any escape was welcomed and one that offered so much diversion must have been wonderful.

Mom died this morning, a little before 2am, June 3, 2008. We held hands and wept together, prayed and then released her, with tears, into the Main St. of eternity. Heart's broken, hope securely fixed on the promises of Christ, one more time we were all in it together... never to be all together again until we're Home with The Lord.

That's our family... that's my mom... she gave us more than we could have ever asked for or imagined. She loved us with her whole heart. What she always wanted most is for us all to be in it, regardless how hot the fire, together.

Can't imagine life without her. I'll do my best to keep her constantly in my heart, live out her practical faith daily, remember her sense of a "higher calling" and do my best to see God's Big Picture in everything. Our family stew, stirred carefully over the years by mom, has seeped to the core of my being. I'll keep her memory alive in my life, in my actions, in my love.

Main St. in Heaven is packed with good folks I love. Tonight, as the little white lights in the olive branches begin to twinkle, I imagine mom just getting settled in...enjoying "The Evening Light" waiting, until we're all in it together again.

love you mom

Someone Will Take My Hand

My mom wrote the following words. They're the final chapter in her wonderful book: My Alabaster Box. That's Mom and Dad at a book signing some years back at our home. They encourage me, I know they can bring hope to you when you're a little down... or maybe even devestated. My mom's known dark moments: her brother killed in WWII, her dad died not long after, her oldest son served overseas during the Vietnam war, her middle son was stabbed by a serial killer (and thankfully survived), I've had health problems I wouldn't wish on to my enemies... the kind that keep mom's up in the middle of the night. Through it all, mom's been there.

Today Debi and I are going to spend the afternoon with my parents while my sister-in-law and brother have to be at the doctor. Mom hasn't known that she wrote these words for years. Her memory has slipped away. Her words and lessons remain while she and dad live in a downstairs room, watching CNN all day at my brother's house. It's enough to break your heart. My prayer is that in her moments of confusion and loss that there is always Someone there to take her hand.



SO MANY YEARS. . . .so many months. . .hours. . . .minutes . . .and not all of them happy. Count them up – perhaps the sorrows outweigh the joys. It’s strange how one joy can cancel out many sorrows!

The past year seemed to add up more sorrows than joys…nothing evened out when I tried the system of one joy canceling out three sorrows. But the thought came to me as a bright diamond in the dark….these sorrows MAY bring joy SOMEDAY.

When a mother holds her infant until the five-o’clock hour of the dawn as the baby fights for the breath of life…I shall be able to say “take my hand….I understand your anxiety”….when a family lays away a beloved member and the tears fall, fall freely, and they long for a view of a rainbow…I will be able to say, “I’ll cry with you…hold my hand…I’ve walked this way before.” When the heart is bound with grief-a sorrow so deeply hidden within because of a prodigal child…I will say, “Yes, take my hand, I too have walked this way before.” When a mother sits by the hospital bed of her near grown child as he struggles to hold onto the thread of life…I will softly whisper, “Here…hold my hand let’s share together.”

When dreams lie shattered in the dust…the dreams of years of planning and waiting-and the future seems dark, I will say, “Take my hand, I have walked this way before.”

But someday the dawn will break and I shall see the rainbows and the long journey’s end and I reach the moment we all must face when eternity looms out ahead, I am sure at a second’s fraction of time I will reach out and someone will take my hand and say, “I’ve walked this way before – come follow me.”
And this one final joy will cancel out all sorrows.

Ione Denton

lessons my mother taught me

Mom and Dad in 2004
signing a copy of her book: My Alabaster Box

My family's now refusing to read my blogs. They say I write novellas. Today, they might have a point... but I didn't write it, my mom did. This is a letter I found in my grandmother's Bible when it was given to me some years back. On the envelope my granny had written, "A mother's day letter I enjoyed so much." The postmark on the envelope reads May 4, 1955: I wasn't even 10 months old. The letter is a wonderful keepsake for our family: more importantly, the values my mother thanks granny for are timeless truths that every family can build on.

Hope you had an incredible mother's day. Enjoy the read.

blessings,

Eric

May 2, 1955
Long Beach, Calif.

Dearest Mother,

I thought I would write you a “Mother’s Day” letter since the gift I am sending isn’t a very big one.

We are all on the mend. Tim is able to go out and play awhile today. Eric still has a few measles’ spots on him but he is feeling fine again. Tim and Eric didn’t have the measles too seriously since they had the gamma globulin shots. But I feel like I’ve been “cooped up” considerably now. I did dash out to the store last Friday to spend my birthday money. Here is what I bought: Two cotton blouses, one pair of peddle pushers (these all on sale for $1.00 each) a nice cotton dress in blue check ($9.00) one of these stiff standout half-slips, one cotton slip, two pair of cotton panties, and a pink purse. I had planned to buy two cotton dresses but Wil and the boys bought me a pretty pink one for my birthday.

Eric’s lip is better but it still is pretty ugly looking. He really had a deep burn and I’m fearful of it being a permanent scar. It’s been over two weeks now and it still has a bit of swelling in it.

Dale spent all day Sunday with us. I was so surprised to see him. He says he will work out of Long Beach in another two weeks. Right now he is living in a Fraternity house on the USC Campus, but I would like for him to stay with us when he moves into the area. Remember Ray Helms, the navy lieutenant that visited us that summer you were there when we lived on Molino? He was the tall handsome boy that you thought was so nice. Well, he was here with us all last week and he and dale got well acquainted Sunday. Ray is with the government in the Guided Missile department, an engineer, and they fly him all over the country visiting the guided missile factories, etc… and he was on business in the L.A. area so spent the week here. (And us with the measles!) He caught a plane out at 2:00 AM this morning. I was glad Dale could meet him because Ray is a fine Christian person. They got along great, Ray really liked dale and said if he could get a transfer to this coast, (he’s now in Alabama), he and Dale talked of getting an apartment.

Dale said Vernon now had another car lot. He must be really doing fine. I’m glad. That church you mentioned that Bernice is going to now –isn’t that a Christian Missionary Alliance group? Seems like I remember it being at that address. Does she like it better than our church? You know, Mom, I’m sure the Church of God doesn’t have a corner on all the truth ---but we’ve got the basic truth that these other churches are still trying to attain –and not one can gainsay our doctrine on the church being the body of Christ and membership, etc… And how anyone brought up this way can ever change is beyond me. Regardless of personalities and such –the truth is still the truth –and whether you like the people who preach it or the people who attend –how can you forsake the truth once God has revealed it unto you? Ah me.

Mom, this brings me to the main point of my letter. All this week I’ve tried to think of something nice to send you for Mother’s Day- and couldn’t. then I decided I’d just write and tell you what a good Mother you have been to me all these 32 years. I’ve thought of the many things I’d like to mention. Wil and I have discussed at great length the things we would like to pass on to our children, and I began to think of the things in my childhood that meant the most to me –the things I’d like my children to inherit.

First of all I am so thankful for my inheritance of Christianity from my parents. Being a Christian is not something you inherit –you have to make this decision for yourself –but how much easier it is --and more likely you are to do so, if you have been brought up in a Christian home. I’ve heard people say time and again that they had to go to church so much when they were children that they wouldn’t go now that they could make their own decision. Somehow you caused us to go to church –not by making us to –but by making us want to go. I hope that somehow I can bring my children up to see Christ in my life and want to go to church and serve Him. I’m glad I had a mother who stuck it out thru shtick and thin –whether the church was in good condition or bad –whether the preacher was good or poor --whether she was accepted or not. How I’ve come to appreciate these traits since I’ve been a minister wife! I can remember times when the church was split in many factions –the preacher couldn’t preach worth anything, and about 40 people bothered to come –and those wrangled and fussed at each other. But instead of you throwing up your hands and trotting off some place else, you stuck it out –and prayed. And God answered prayer. Had you been the type to drag your children off here and there because things didn’t please you- today I would have no stability whatsoever –I would do the same thing. But because you were not that type of person –when problems come up I know the best thing to do is to ride them out –and depend on God.

And another example of something I’ve always looked back on with appreciation is the way you trusted us. And the advice you gave when I was baffled. I never will forget how I was so puzzled in my teens –and the Youth at church were such a strange lot about some things –how I used to go to movies and they just knew I would go to hell if I didn’t stop. I remember counseling with you and asking what to do and we discussed it at great length then you told me you’d rather have me attend occasional good movies then to “park on some dark road.” Movie attendance is no problem to me now –I know there are many worthwhile pictures –but it’s neither here nor there –but how often your advice has come to my thinking when I’ve had to advise some young person to whom it is a problem –or to the parent of some person who is having difficulty with various social problems. This helped me to learn tolerance –and to learn that many things are involved in people’s decisions.

And I’m glad you always had family worship. I well remember how I received my knowledge of the Bible at an early age. Doyle and I always sat and listened as you read to us from the Bible story book. And then we prayed together. And as I grew older, even tho I had girl friends staying overnight with me –we always prayed. I’m sure this is one reason that those friends I still have contact with are always anxious to learn how you are.

I’m glad I learned tithing at an early age. How many people I see become Christians --and seem to be growing, but when they learn that God requires money from the too –they, with the Rich Young Ruler, turn away sadly --and forsake the Gospel. Tithing to me has been like eating –When money comes in you take out God’s part first --then divide the rest as far as it will go.

I’m thankful that you taught us to be frugal with our money. Taught us that debt was a sorry thing. And even if we didn’t practice this policy and had to come to you for money --you loaned it without a word –when you could always say “I told you so.”

But aside from these things I think of the good times we had together as a family. I can never forget our vacations –and how we would drive to enjoy ourselves. Not to make a deadline. If we saw something on the roadside of interest, we stopped and looked it over –if something was a few miles out of the way –but we wanted to see it, we did. And even tho we didn’t have much money –you always managed to save enough for a “pop” or bite of candy for the special vacation time. And we couldn’t afford to stop in restaurants –but instead of this becoming a problem to worry about we just had everything become more fun by having a picnic –or cooking by the roadside.

And I remember how when any new purchase was made for the house –my opinion on the subject was every bit as valuable as an adults. When we chose a rug we kids got to pick out what we thought was pretty. I wonder if I will be able to do this with my children –I will want things to match so badly that I will probably not realize that it’s more important to have your children feel a “part” of the planning.

But most of all I’ve always appreciated the fact that we always felt free to bring our friends home. Many times I’ve thought of the hard times of the depression and the lack of funds at our house –but come Sunday I usually always brought from two to three girls home with me for dinner. How did you manage to feed the extras? I guess you just knew either Doyle or I would have someone in. But today, when I think of how I always cook with the number of persons I’m feeding in mind –I wonder how you always made the food “stretch.” I’m glad you always allowed us to feel Home was ours –and we could have our friends in anytime we pleased.

And now that I’m older and have occasion to make an effort to help people with their problems –especially with their teenagers –the only way I can help them is by remembering how you handled the same situation. How you always allowed us to have the car –my how you trusted us when we were but teenagers! I think now how we all piled in the car on Sundays and took off for the afternoon—just as tho the car actually belonged to us. And we always felt it did. But yet, we would not have abused our privilege – because you trusted us with it.

I assure you Mom, that I’m very thankful this Mother’s Day, that when god decided to send me to the earth –He chose to send me to you and Dad. You have made mistakes I’m sure ---but right now they don’t come to my thinking. You have been a good Mother.

I was talking to Dale Sunday –just casually mentioned to him that I had a letter from you this last week –and that you are now 70 years old –and still irrigating! He said something like this--- “You know, that Granny is an amazing person – people like her don’t come very often ---she’s made of great stuff and I admire her.” And we both agreed you were made of “Pioneer stock.” The type that could have crossed the desert in a covered wagon. Now me, --if I had had to help the pilgrims come to America –they’d have still been in the old country –or if we had made it over the ocean –I’d have sat right there on Plymouth Rock!

Well, Mom, I must close now and feed the children.

Lovingly, your daughter


Ione