there is a season turn turn turn

Image“If today is Saturday tomorrow must be Sunday”, that was the answer I have been giving for the past hour or so as I was rolling my mother’s beautifully silvered hair. I don’t remember exactly when it happened, the last conversation that I had with her when I wasn’t having to answer the same questions over and over again. When was the last time that I poured my heart out to her as I cried, or rejoiced with her and my dad at the end of a successful drama or choir program? Better yet, when was the last time she wanted to go shopping and buy another pair of those sky high heels she was always famous for? As I was growing up she was the best and only friend I had, the safety of knowing I was accepted and cared for after I had eaten lunch sitting in a stall of the school bathroom because I didn’t know anyone and was really not as outgoing as everyone at church thought I was. When I was expecting my first baby she was almost more excited than I was and began to sew tiny seed pearls and embroider pink and blue flowers on the Dedication dress I had bought. She didn’t just stop with the dress and matching coat but we bought a tiny pair of satin slippers and covered every inch of them with the same little pearls and sequins. As I was getting close to time for delivery my mother and I were driving and stopped for a red  light going west on North Avenue crossing Peachtree Street, I started to cry and told her how afraid I was of the birthing process. She calmly pointed to the dozens of people crossing the street in front of the car and dryly, almost sarcastically, told me that every one of those people had all gotten here the same way and if it had been so bad all those people wouldn’t be there. Her tone and words dried my tears in a hurry making me feel almost foolish. Having been shaken out of my mood she told me that she had the same conversation with her mother and had been told the same thing. I got tickled at that because images of my “little mama” came into my mind and I could almost see her twisting her mouth to one side as she said it. She listened to me cry and be bitter and ugly when I was in the process of divorce, she encouraged me to pick myself up and realize that my children needed me more than I needed to pity myself. It worked. It just struck me as very sad and wanting to feel sorry for myself all over again as I have become a parent to her and try to soothe her when she asks many times a day when my dad will be home. I want to tell her that he is in the best home he has ever had, heaven, but she wouldn’t remember. She thanked me for lunch and told me I was like a daughter to her, I hope I am.

Everytime you have a conversation with your loved one, don’t take it for granted. Take mental pictures of the good times and forget the bad. It is the same with your children, today they are small and it only seems like tomorrow you are giving them away to begin a family of their own. In the book of Job 7:6 says “My days are swifter than a weavers shuttle…” but unlike Job my days are not without Hope. “My Hope is built on nothing less than Jesus blood and righteousness; I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.”

6 Replies to “there is a season turn turn turn”

  1. Lovely sentiments expressed in a lovely way. Our roles do change, don’t they and the amazing thing is that God gives us grace and courage to meet each challenge. Thanks for opening up your heart.


    1. Yes and it isn’t easy… we hear about it when we are younger but “it will never happen to me”… thank you!


  2. Love reading about you Mom, My Day got this way, but the Lord so fit to take my at 73, she prayed all of her life to not get like her Mother and grandmother did, The Lord answered her prayer, but for me I had rather she stayed on to a ripe old age. I love and miss her so much. Life is never the same after they are gone. You can go to Mom when you can’t tell anyone else. I am praying for your Mom and you. God bless you for being the understanding person you are. hang in there, I wish I could say it gets better, but I cannot.. Love you both


  3. I like to read your stories they give me hope in an ugly world I could just stay at home and be content , now I know that sound’s lamb but these days you know not if you will come home alive where my mom live’s we used to could have left the door unlocked in fact I rarely remember it being locked now its the one most known for drug activity in Mableton I never leave my door unlocked my next door neighbor got attacked by some teenaged boys they wheeled her out on a grunny took her to cobb hospital my mom does the same thing ask us questions but won’t leave her house we offered to let her stay at Shannons kims my house she says no so we go there to see her oh well pastor Harolene i’ll let you go love ya Renee Couch


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