Thursday, May 9th was my mom's 63rd birthday. As my sister, my girls, and my niece celebrated with her at California Pizza Kitchen, she suddenly began to cry. My girls stopped eating and asked her what was wrong. She smiled through her tears and explained, "I just miss your grandma. I want her to be here right now celebrating with us." My heart ached. My mom still has so much to say to my grandma. She wanted more time. None of us were ready.
Yesterday, when I replayed this birthday scene for my aunt, she told me how desperately she still misses my grandma, too. She explained how, just that morning, she heard one of her colleagues at work say, in response to something that had happened, "I need to call my mom and tell her about this!" And, without pause, my aunt insisted, "Oh, be so thankful you can pick up that phone right now and tell her anything you want. I would give the world to be able to call my mom right now."
So, today, in the midst of one sick child, a trip to the pediatrician's office, a long wait at the pharmacy, a trip to the orthodontist office for my oldest to have her braces removed, a phone call from the school to pick up another sick child, an HVAC repair man here to tell me we need a new unit, and a night filled with soccer practice, homework, projects, and a mandatory parent meeting, I implored the world to stop revolving for just five minutes. And, I used that gift of time to sit on my hammock....and call my dad. And, for once, I forced myself to be still, to be present, and to savor each word he had to say. And, then, I gave thanks for that November night, when God revealed his plan...and gave me a little more time.