Just One Moment

Last night I spent several hours at a friend's house, talking into the wee hours of the morning. Around 2:00 AM, one of us said something about how we should be sleeping.

Then I said, "I wouldn't be sleeping anyway."

"Why?"

"Because it is August 17th."

"Huh?"

Pause. Sigh. 

"It is the day my mom died. It will be twelve years today."

The conversation continued, and then my friend asked, "Do you do anything [on this specific day]?"

"....Well...I write. I write a blog post. Back before I had a blog, I wrote in my journal. I guess it has become a tradition. Other than that, no, I don't do anything out of the ordinary. My brother usually calls me, and simply asks if I'm okay. I say yes. Then I ask if he's okay. He says yes. And I'm pretty sure we both know we're lying. But that's about it."

While the phone conversation was actually a bit different this year, I still felt the need to write. So I decided to use some quiet time while the boys were at the store and the baby was asleep to read through some pages in the journal I kept twelve years ago, hoping I would find something that would spark the right words for this year. As expected, most of the pages made me cry. But there was one page that did not.

I wrote it on June 10th, 2001, as I was sitting in the ICU at Good Samaritan Hospital next to my mother's bed. She had just come out of her final surgery that had successfully removed the remaining tumors in her body. I had been told that she was expected to make a full recovery (although I have no idea how truthful that information really was), so that night I wrote about peace.

"After two years of hell, right now, sitting here in a a dark hospital room, I feel completely at peace. I'm not crying about anything. Instead I am feeling so thankful to God right now. He has finally blessed me with peace. And even though it may not last, I will always be thankful for this one moment of happiness. Thank you, Lord."

One moment. It was just one moment. But I still remember how incredibly grateful I was for it. Then on August 17th, there was another moment. A moment burned in my memory. A moment that still haunts me to this day. That one moment that changed my entire life.

Twelve years later, as I look back on both of those moments, I find my heart hurting just as much as ever. It stings in ways I cannot even describe when I remember that entire summer - the pain my family was feeling after my grandmother's death and then my mother's within just months of each other, the immense stress that my brothers and I were under, the emptiness of our house, the sterile hospital rooms, the goldfish crackers that I lived off of because my body was too weak for real food, the freezer full of lasagnas that no one wanted to eat. Yes...that hurt still hurts.  But today, when I read those words that I wrote as a fifteen year old girl in a dark hospital room, the hurt went away for a minute. I was struck by how God blesses us with tender mercies - feelings of joy, love, and peace - even in the midst of our absolute darkest days.  He knew that the peace I felt that night was going to be short lived. He knew I was about to face an uphill battle that would continue every day for the rest of my life. But He gave me that "one moment of happiness" to remind me that there was still hope. To remind me that there is still light somewhere on the other end of the darkness. To remind me that peace is always possible.

I needed that reminder today. I need it on many days. Because sometimes, the pain of this life is just too real. The struggles get too hard.  But there are moments. Moments when I laugh so much my stomach hurts, moments when I see something incredibly beautiful, moments when I hear my kids giggle, moments when I feel overwhelmed by blessings, moments that take my breath away.  Those moments are what make life liveable again.

Sometimes all you need is just one moment of peace. And on days like today, when I miss my mother so very much, when I think of all the things I wish I could say to her, when I feel jealous of every other woman I know, when I think about how many more long lonely years I have to face before I can see her again...that one moment of peace is something to be grateful for.

I love you and miss you always, Momma.

"...But then again, I know what it would do, 

leave me wishing still for one more day with you."

Raelene Metcalf

11/1/49-8/17/01

August 17th, 2012

August 17th, 2011

August 17th, 2010