The Last Bite. The Last Word.

My husband was a food-of-any-kind connoisseur. He actually treated his meals like an art form. Once he’d try every different food item on his plate, he’d determine which was his favorite. He’d ensure his favorite bite was his last bite on his plate so he could savor that taste as long as possible afterward. I can still see him smacking his lips after that bite.

While I was thinking about the last bite, I started thinking about our last words. Don't we want them to be those tasty morsels of delectable and sweet words of love so that we’ll never have regrets about the words we said? My sweet Bryson wants to sleep with me when I’m in town. I left Austin for home early this morning while he was still sleeping. I take with me the treasure of the last words he spoke to me before he fell asleep. ”I love you so much, Princess.” And, my last words to him were "I love you so much, my Prince!"

I’m so glad the last words I spoke to my Sweetheart before his graduation to heaven were “Push, Baby, push. I’ll be okay, so go ahead and go home. I love you forever and I’ll see you soon.”

I've learned my lessons well. I’m so glad God has forgiven me for the times my words weren’t so sweet and how, now, He continually reminds me that my last words with a friend or loved one should be LIFE, not death; PEACE, not fear; LOVE, not hate; JOY, not sorrow. We have the opportunity, every day, to leave those sweet words for those around us to savor. Proverbs 16:24 says "Kind words are honey from a honeycomb -- sweet to the soul and healing for the body."

Whether our days run smooth as glass or are rocky and bumpy, may our hearts and our mouths produce "soft and sweet” words.....so that if we have to eat them, we'll be eating yummy, delectable treats. What was your last bite today? What were the last words you spoke to someone? What are they savoring?

"Kind words are like honey -- sweet to the soul and healthy for the body." Proverbs 16:24

I Wish You Knew

This day, eight years ago, began with the routine we had become accustomed to after eleven months of doctors' appointments, six surgeries, many treatments, infusions, pain management and a host of other daily activities. Each day was a new day with hope and great expectations for conquering the events of the day, without being conquered by those events. I wish you knew how our life changed from “normal” to a “new normal” that was anything but normal. We never knew what to expect – perhaps yet another trip to the emergency room to help manage the pain, the fever, or the discomfort. Whatever each day held, it seemed we were enveloped in a blanket of God’s peace. Aw, God’s sweet, wonderful peace. I wish you knew that peace.

I wish you knew how one can weather a storm unscathed because of God’s peace that passes understanding. I wish you knew how it felt to see others living their lives as “routine” and same-o, same-o while I was thrilled to have one more day to trust God that we would make it through another day.

I wish you knew how it felt to live each day with expecting a miracle – that even on this day, I didn’t think anything except that my sweetheart didn’t want much to eat on this day – that he would rather sleep more which I deemed was because of the medication to reduce the pain in his broken body. I wish you knew the great peace it brought that we had a loving God Who we knew was giving us such peace.

I wish you knew how it felt to recognize that this day would be my last day with him as I watched his blood pressure get erratic. I knew it was time to tell him, “Sweet man, it’s okay to go home. I’ll be okay. I love you so much. I'll see you later. Go ahead and “Push, Baby, push!” I wish you knew what it feels like to be your loved one’s Mid-Wife and help him push through to heaven.

I wish you knew how absolutely at peace you can be and know how it feels to be vastly in control when everything around you is out-of-control and out-of-your-ability to do anything to alter God’s will being done on earth as it was in heaven. I wish you knew how resilient we can be in the most storm-tossed seas of life.

I wish you knew how it feels to have spent 49 years of loving your childhood “crush” to him becoming your life-long lover, best friend, sweetheart, and darling husband. I wish you knew how much I still love talking about him, even on this day. Even after all these years later, it makes me smile to hear you tell stories and remind me how he impacted your life. Saying his name is one of the most comforting things you can do for me and my family.

I wish you knew how it feels to be in a room full of couples who love and respect you but you feel like the 3rd or 5th wheel all alone without your person, but putting aside those feelings to living with gusto because of the Big Wheel Who keeps you confident, living with destiny and purpose.

I wish you knew I was not always as strong and inspiring and brave as it looked – that sometimes I was simply a determined survivor. Telling me how strong and confident I was all the time simply made me feel like I had to look and be a certain way to continue being "an inspiration." And, you know what? I did become strong with the desires to be inspiring and brave and not just being a survivor, but a thriver.

I wish you knew that people aren't replaceable and new chapters don't mean we've forgotten or stopped loving them. What's new is new, and it's amazing and beautiful and provides new stories and life, but has nothing to do with the memories that will stay with you forever and the memories that made you live a worthwhile life of making a difference in other people’s lives.

I wish you knew the difference of being a weeping, whiny, and wailing widow to a confident, peace-filled widow who doesn’t forget the past but realizes all the times of the past that made her the capable, faith and peace filled woman she is today. I wish you knew not to waste your life because time is so very short.

I wish you knew how grateful I am for those of you who lifted us up in prayer, who still lift me up in prayer, who do life with me and encourage me with your words of cheer.

I wish you knew that life is worth living until we get to experience real life forever on the other side where we’ll meet up with our loved ones who are cheering us on from heaven’s grandstands.

I wish you knew this peace I know. It's yours for the taking: Isaiah 26:3 "You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are stayed on You because they trust in You."

I wish you knew.......

On a Day Like Today......PUSH, BABY, PUSH!

On a day like today -- November 16th, 2010 -- birds singing, fish jumping in the lake and a gentle breeze blowing into our bedroom window -- the greatest of all sweet celebrations was about to begin! I don't rehash the memories for my sake -- they are forever with me. But, if one word, one phrase, one spark ignites someone's faith from my experiences, it will have been worth the journey.

What started as an idea to get our bodies moving, actually created excitement about the upcoming weekend for our whole family. We had a plan, and we were setting the plan into motion. We would all be together for an early Thanksgiving on Saturday, November 20th. We'd get as many as possible in the bedroom with Ron and enjoy our traditional Thanksgiving meal together with him. Then, when it would get dark outside, we would have the "lighting of the Christmas lights" that had been hung by a crew of family members. We knew Ron would love this night of celebration. Everything was planned to the finest of details. Strategically, beautiful lights were strung on an artificial tree just outside my Honey's bedroom window, as well as on the neighbor's fence and on all the trees at the back of our property. We knew he would love the family being together for such an intimate, sweet family time together. Then the plan was for all of us to run in the "Movement of Gratitude" aka "Run for Ron" in the Route 66 Marathon on Sunday. It was a masterful, brilliant plan!

But, God and my Honey usurped our plan and the "The Master's Plan aka The Perfect Plan" took over. As the days passed toward our big weekend, my Honey seemed to sleep more and talk and eat less. He had always given into my usual "drill sergeant" techniques to get him to eat more. I opened the windows wide and exclaimed "It's a beautiful day!" This morning was different than the days before. This day, he shook his head "no", when I tried to give him just one more bite of his favorite, oatmeal and brown sugar. His mom and sister came by for their usual daily visit. He raised his head and said, "Hi, Mom!", then closed his eyes again. After they left, I tried to give him his lunch -- another favorite -- chicken and dumplings, but this time, nothing doing.

Though I had been hustling around to get the house all ready for our arriving family that weekend, I suddenly knew that heaven was closing in on us and the house and this earth no longer mattered. Peace resonated from his being. Peace overcame me as I resigned myself to "let go, and let God" take over. With all the standing in faith for his healing on this earth before -- today, there was a sense of knowing that heaven was opening its portals for another soldier to come home. Not just his wife, but I knew it was time to be his midwife. It was as though heaven touched earth when I whispered to him, "Sweetheart, I think the 'Welcome Home' sign is up for you in heaven. Go ahead and go there. I'll be okay. I'll catch up with you later. Now, it's time to push, Baby, push! Go home! Push, Baby, Push!" Peace enveloped our room.

My Honey was not leaving home -- he was going home. I knew God loved him so much -- it was time for him to receive the grandest rewards that he so deserved. With all the love I had and have for him, how could I possibly keep him here one minute longer? He earned this. He deserved this. Within just an hour, he breathed his last breath, and ever so peacefully, I saw the most beautiful man I have ever encountered -- both outside and inside -- push through to the other side. Yes, there were tears, as with any close family member or friend who is leaving our presence for a while, yet also tears of joy, knowing pain is over and that we'll be together again one day. I gave him words that I knew the Father was saying to him right now: "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter now into the joy of the Lord!" Matthew 25:23. How sweet it was -- all pain was gone as my dashing, beautiful husband was free at last from that weary and broken earth suit.

Did we "lose" him? No, we know where he is! He is not lost. Did we lose our fight? No, we fought the good fight of faith. As St. Paul said, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith, and finally a crown of righteousness awaits me (2 Timothy 4:7,8).

By the way, we still had our family Thanksgiving on Saturday, the 20th, and we celebrated this bright light that had been in our lives for so many years. We lit up our back yard and all of us watched from Honey's bedroom window -- except, not quite as planned, for Honey had graduated from that hospital bed. We like to think that he was watching from his "room with a view" from heaven itself. He did push through and now he is cheering us on and pushing us to OUR finish line -- where we'll meet up for a grand reunion some day! So, let's PUSH, BABY, PUSH to live life to its fullest, share and be a witness of God's love, and be on purpose to finish strong so that we hear those words "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter now into the joy of the Lord!"

Welcome Home!

Today, November 16th, is the 4th year anniversary of this beautiful man's promotion to heaven. I say it that way because he fervently believed this life on earth, is just our internship for what we were created to do, and be, in heaven. I know he’s on assignment there, as we are all on assignment here until OUR “promotion”. I am so grateful for my Facebook friends that indulge me as I often post about him and our life experiences. "Remembering" is one of my greatest joys in life. There is no greater gift given to me than when folks “remember” him with me. In fact, yesterday, I was so touched when our dear friend, Charles Michie, spoke about Ron at a conference I attended. But even more touching, was when I saw that Mick was wearing a vest of Ron's that I had given him. It meant so much to me.

November 16, 2010: What started as an idea to get our bodies moving, actually got our whole family excited about the upcoming weekend. They were coming in for an early Thanksgiving the next Saturday. And, we'd have our traditional Thanksgiving meal with Ron, in the bedroom. Then when it was dark outside, we'd have the "lighting of the Christmas lights" that had been strategically hung by a crew of family members, just outside my Honey's window. We knew he would love the family being together for such an intimate, sweet family time together. Then, on Sunday, we would all run in the "Movement of Gratitude" aka "Run for Ron" in the Route 66 Marathon. We had a brilliant plan....or so we thought.

But, God and my Honey had the "MASTER PLAN"! As our big weekend was approaching, my Honey became less communicative; he slept more, and ate less. Always giving in to my usual "drill sergeant" techniques to get him to eat more, had little effect now. This morning, I opened the window blinds wide and exclaimed, "It's a beautiful day!" His eyes remained closed, but I knew he heard me. This morning was different than the days before when he'd shake his head as I tried to give him "just one more bite". I fed him almost all of his oats and brown sugar and several bites of toast covered in strawberry jam -- one of his favorite breakfast meals. His mom and sister came by for their usual daily visit. He said, "Hi, Mom!", then closed his eyes again. After they left, I tried to give him his lunch -- another favorite -- chicken and dumplings, but this time he didn't respond to eating at all.

Though I had been busy with getting the house ready for the family to come in this weekend, I was drawn to stay by his side now. Something about today was different than before. I took his blood pressure and pulse over and over. It was erratic -- high, then low. With all the standing in faith for his healing, now it seemed it was time to to let go. It was just him and me at home. It was as though heaven touched earth as I whispered in his ear, "Sweetheart…I think the 'Welcome Home' sign is up for you in heaven. Go ahead. Go there. I'll be okay. It's time to push, so PUSH, Baby, PUSH!" I knew I was being his mid-wife, pushing him from this world, into his real home. I called Shawntel and asked her to let Ryan know as he was in Hong Kong. I called Staci who was at her job in Dallas. When I told her that I think Daddy is passing -- I laid the phone by his ear and she sang and spoke sweet love words to him. I called Ron's sister who showed up at our home within a few minutes. The hospice nurse was the next to arrive. She said, "Yes, he's in transition -- it could be tonight or within 72 hours." He was so peaceful. I was so at peace. I knew it was time to begin the home-going celebration. My Honey was not leaving home….he was going home…..where he belonged. I knew God loved him so much -- it was time for him to receive the grandest rewards that awaited him. He had a glimpse of heaven. I just knew it. With all the love I had, and have for him, how could I possibly keep him here one minute longer? He earned this. He deserved this.

Within just an hour, he passed, ever so peacefully, and I saw the most beautiful man I have ever encountered -- both outside and inside -- push through to the other side. Yes, there were tears -- my soul mate, lover, best friend and husband of 44 years went home, yet also tears of joy, knowing pain is over and we'll be together again one day. I said words that I knew the Father was saying to him, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joys of the Lord!" Matthew 25:23.

Did we "lose" him? No, we know where he is! He is not lost. Did we lose our fight? No, we fought the good fight of faith right through to this day. As St. Paul said, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith…and finally a crown of righteousness awaits me." 2 Timothy 4:7,8.

By the way, we still had our family Thanksgiving on Saturday, the 20th, and we celebrated him -- the beautiful and bright light that had been such a vital part of our lives for so many years, by our lighting ceremony. All of us watched the lighting of our back yard from Honey's and my bedroom window…..except, not quite as planned, for Honey was no longer in that hospital bed. We like to think that he was watching from his "room with a view" from heaven. He did push through, and now he is cheering us on and pushing us to our finish line!