Thursday, May 06, 2010

Too Grown Up, Too Fast

I never imagined you would be so mature so quickly. How can a four year old possibly wrap her mind around the eternal questions you have been considering of late. Ever since your Granddaddy died, you have talked a lot about the concepts of heaven and hell and death. You try to be a little consoler, reminding me and Grammy any time you can that when we see Granddaddy in heaven, we won’t be sad anymore. You like to describe in vivid preschooler detail how joyous that reunion will be. You say things like, “Mommy, I know you are sad now. But when you get to heaven you will hug Granddaddy so tight and you will be so happy. You should think about that Mommy, when you feel sad.” You tell Grammy you can see Granddaddy waving in the clouds, or blowing kisses to you both when you are driving in the car together. Once you even told Grammy that he told you to tell her he loved her very much. You talk to me about how much you miss him and how he is your favorite Granddaddy. We cry together sometimes.

You worry about these things too much. No child should ever have to question these kinds of things. You shouldn’t have to comfort me. You shouldn’t have to play the part of a little adult because the adults around you are so damaged.

My heart just constricts when I think about your premature concerns of your own eternal destiny. You worry that you “do too many bad things to go to heaven.” You have even started blaming yourself for your Daddy’s depression, saying if you weren’t such a “bad person” your Daddy wouldn’t be sad all the time…that he wouldn’t be upset. I tell you over and over again that these things aren’t true. I remind you that you have asked Jesus into your heart, that you know He died on the cross for your sins, and that He is alive. (Maybe I haven’t done a good enough job of letting you see how truly salvation is through Him, and Him alone – that our works, good or bad, do not determine our relationship with the Father. Is it a curse of our holiness upbringing that all our children live in fear of the rapture/death because they never think they are good enough?) And I adamantly tell you every time the topic arises that your Daddy’s illness has nothing to do with you. I’m not sure you are listening.

Instead you are probably taking in the tense, stressed out faces of your mommy and daddy as they deal with the symptoms of a mental illness that has already claimed the life of one family member. You watch Grandma and Granddaddy Bryan work a little too hard to keep everything appearing normal. You see through the façade of “everything is fine” when you visit Grammy’s house and instead pick up on the nearly suffocating grief that seems to permeate everything in that lonely place. Words of comfort mean little coming from adults who are searching for comfort and answers themselves.

I’m sorry you have to go through this period of confusion with us, little girl. I pray and pray and pray that you aren’t being irreparably damaged by it all. I pray for God to give me strength patience and wisdom to answer all your questions the right way, and to pick up on the things you aren’t saying too, so your fears can been diminished. Someday soon we will all feel secure again…the world won’t be upside down forever. I can’t wait for that day.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Missing My Little One

I want to set the record straight on something. I HATE being away from you, Petra Sky.

Ever since you and daddy started staying with Grandma and Grandaddy, and I've been forced to stay here in Henderson so I can finish out my time at my current job, I have been a miserable mommy. I miss you more than you can ever imagine. I stand in your room sometimes and choke back tears because I feel like a part of me is missing. I can't imagine what it must be like for parents who are divorced and this is the way it is all the time - only seeing their children on the weekends. It's just not worth it! I feel like you are growing up without me, even though it's only been a very short time. Your sweet little voice on the telephone makes my heart ache. When we are together on the weekends, I love cuddling up to you and holding you. I love all the kisses you give so freely.

This whole process is hard on you, and that hurts me too. You don't understand why I have to be away from you and daddy. You don't understand why we had to leave our home and why we still haven't found a 'new house'. You don't understand why daddy is sad all the time or why mommy can't play with you sometimes because she has to spend time 'helping' him feel better. How can I explain depression to a four-year-old? How can I explain a struggling economy, or job loss, or a bad real estate market? I try. I try hard. I tell you that it's not your fault. You haven't done anything wrong. You are good and smart and wonderful and beautiful and things won't always be like this. We won't always be apart.

I promise.

Thursday, March 04, 2010

Moving is Hard to Do

Moving. It seems to be the story of my life, but I really had hoped it wouldn't be the story of yours.

When we came to South Henderson, I really had thought this was going to be someplace we could be long term. The church has been such a good fit for all of us - you included. I remember when we first came and you were SO shy. You wouldn't talk to anyone, you hid behind my legs in apparent terror when anyone tried to speak to you. I was really worried that you would never really adapt to this big new world with so many strangers in it.

But you have adapted...beautifully. You love your Wednesday night Rainbows teachers, Ms. Shelia, Ms. Kathy, and Ms. Heather. You love all the ladies on the Kings Kids teacher rotation. You made a very special friendship with our Senior's Pastor's wife, Ms. Peggy. You have played with Pastor Rhonda and the secretary Ms. Jeannene. And you've even come to love and accept many of the teenagers (I think our drummer, Adam, will always be your image of 'Prince Charming'!)

Of course you've been blessed with friends your age as well. Madision is your best friend - you two are inseparable at church. At times the promise of seeing Madision was the only thing that would get you out of the bed in the morning (my little night owl!). You have grown to love the children in your class at Great Beginnings. You call Kyra and Sierra your 'sisters' and have told me rather definitively that you are going to marry R.J. when you both get 'grown up.' Daycare was another thing I had worried about, but you showed me just how adaptable you can be.

Now we're moving. It wasn't something we wanted. It's very hard on all of us to let go of these wonderful relationships we've built here. You are pretty ticked off about the whole thing: "Why do we have to move?" "But I like our house!" "I'm going to miss my friends in Ms. Twanda's class..." "I don't want to go to a new church!" "Are they (all the church people) coming with us?" One of the sweetest - and most heartbreaking - things you have said came up when I offered to paint your bedroom pink when we move into a new house. You said, "Well, that's okay, but I want you to paint a picture of me and Madision and Adam and Brittany on the wall. We will all be princesses, except for Adam. He can be a prince because he's a boy." Every time I think about that I tear up.

It's been hard for you since my daddy died and through all the emotional roller coaster since. You don't understand why mommy and daddy are sad so much. You don't understand why you and daddy are staying with Grandma and Grandaddy, while I have to keep working in Henderson during the week. It's tough. I hate being away from you more than you can even imagine. When I get to come to Sanford on the weekends, I don't want to ever let you go. I am trying to look back at how well you adapted to our new life in Henderson and believe that God will help you to have the same reseliancy in our new life in Sanford. I think it will help that we will be close to Grammy and Grandma and Grandaddy and all of our extended family.

Being a pastor's kid just doesn't lend itself to the stability that I had when I was growing up. I don't remember the first house I lived in. I've seen pictures of it - a trailer in Hearn's Mobile Home Park at the end of MeMa's road. All of my memories are tied up in the home that Grammy lives in now - where I lived from the time I was 3 years old until I graduated from high school. Your daddy on the other hand lived in several different places growing up - Pembroke, Chocawinity, Fayettville, and Sanford. I can't say that one way of growing up is better than the other. I just hope that God will help me to always create postive experiences whenever we have to move. I also hope that you will learn as you grow older that home is where your family is, no matter what town that may be and Christ is our stability at all times, no matter what changes we face.

So let's start packing!