2.18.2011

daffodils and cookies


daffodils always remind me of my mom.
they were her favorite.
it's funny how "things" can trigger such strong memories.
this time of year is hard for me each year because right about now(end of february, early march) is when my mom's heath really took a turn 8 years ago.
she weakened quickly.
i know she wouldn't want me to dwell on those last few weeks of her life, but they really changed me forever.
each year when i see the daffodils bloom and when the girl-scouts come around with their thin mints i feel a little sick with memories.
i remember how the cookies were the last thing she asked for to eat, even when she really couldn't eat anymore.
my mom loved eating and cooking and food.
sometimes i just have to think about that and feel sad.
it makes me know i am alive.

and every time the daffodils bloom i remember the day we spread her ashes in
  the ocean at dana point.
we threw hundreds of daffodil blooms in too, and that vision i think will stay with me forever.
the waves and the churned up water and seaweed.
some flowers sinking, but most staying in large blankets.
my dad's legs getting wet, and thinking about my mom's body drifting away from us in our tiny boat.
hearing my own voice singing on a recording that my dad brought to listen to while we were out there.
the voice sang,
"it's all about you, Jesus.
and all this is for you,
 for your glory and your fame.
it's not about me.
as if you should do things my way.
you alone are God and i surrender to your ways"

i had sung that song before my mom was sick.
before i had really known much sorrow.
it makes me glad i cannot see the future, ya know?

just because i love them, i will share the rest of the lyrics of the song.

"Jesus, lover of my soul,
 all consuming fire is in your gaze.
Jesus, i want you to know,
 i will follow you for all my days.
for no one else in history is like you.
and history itself belongs to you.
alfa and omega you have loved me,
 and i will share eternity with you..."

that makes me feel part of a larger picture.
less small and alone.
more like a character in an amazing story.
(i know, i have been reading a lot of the Jesus Storybook Bible...it's SO good!)

so,
on the day i saw my first daffodil this year,
ella and i made these cookies.
rainbows are so full of hope.
and as much as thinking about those days, all those year ago, seems real and vital and sad and true.
my life, now and my sweet family is full of hope and love and food and flowers and LIFE.
beauty for ashes.











9 comments:

  1. oh my goodness! Could his freckles get ANY sweeter?! What a handsome kiddo!

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  2. I will have to try that cookie recipe...it looks fun and yummy....THANKS!!!

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  3. every time i see a daffodil i'm going to think of you. and the ocean. and Jesus.
    i heart your heart.
    a lot.

    thankyou.goodnight.

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  4. I agree with you on being glad we cant see the future. Ive been pondering that thought alot lately(dont know why). So many people wish they could know whats in their future, whats coming. But if we knew I dont think we would want to go on. Arent we blessed to have a God who walks with us in those times when we feel as if the sorrow will just swallow us whole?
    This was a beautiful post, Shauna. Hope, joy, life. Beauty for Ashes. The Oil of Joy for mourning. May the Holy Spirit comfort you in these days that are full of hard memories.
    XO,
    Sarah

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  5. What a beautiful post, Shauna. Your mama sounds like she was a very special lady who left you with some very wonderful memories. Oh how I pray to do the same. And we love the Jesus Storybook Bible. I think I end up learning more than them... :)

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  7. Thank you for sharing how you deal with the grief of loosing your momma. I can't imagine, but when that day comes I will remember you and the ways you honored her with your words and memories.

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