My friend calls them "Waves"

Most of you know that I lost my mother in April.  Thank God that times does heal patch our hearts.  I'm not sure what learning to live without an arm or leg would feel like but I would like to imagine it probably about the same theory, you just adjust you don't have a choice.  I'm not going to pretend to be the only person that has ever lost someone that they love and most days I'd like to think I'm pretty tough!

Since April I have had my head pretty far down in the sand.  My good buddy says I'm just going through what she calls "waves".  You never quite know when or even where these "waves" might take place.  One day it was driving down the road listening to the radio. Last night it was when I opened a hutch that was at my mother's house that had recently been moved to mine, when I went to open the door to it to dust inside the scent of her blew open with the door and out came the tears. I couldn't even wipe the dust off of it because I was scared it would take the scent away. And today it was this e-mail from a friend. 

Pray You ENOUGH

           Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged, and the mother said, 'I love you, and I pray you enough.'

           The daughter replied, 'Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I pray you enough, too, Mom.'

           They kissed, and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy, but she welcomed me in by asking, 'Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?'

           Yes, I have,' I replied. 'Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?'

           'Well...I'm not as young as I once was, she lives so far away & has her own busy life. I have some challenges ahead, and the reality is - her next trip back will be for my funeral,' she said.

           'When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I pray you enough.' May I ask what that means?'

           She began to smile. 'That's a prayer that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone..' She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail, and she smiled even more. 'When we said, 'I pray you enough,' we wanted the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.'

           Then, turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory.

            I pray you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.

            I pray you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

            I pray you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

            I pray you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.

            I pray you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

            I pray you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

            I pray you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

            Then, she began to cry, and walked away.

            They say, it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but an entire life to forget them. 

I had seen the e-mail pass through my in-box many times in several years but today it was a great reminder!