Holidays…

The holidays are upon us…  This morning, rain is falling, typical of Tennessee holidays, but the house is  warm…cozy… the tree is ready to be put up….the stockings are not yet hung on the mantle… the gifts are either on the way or remain unwrapped…hidden in closets with care.  Dates are tentatively set…destinations known… winter concerts…trips…dinners…. the school dance. 

Sitting here thinking about my morning ritual… empty the dishwasher….fold some clothes… pick up… then head out… but stalling…. I was just thinking about the purpose of these days and the continued “thankfulness” for all that I have.  I had to smile this morning thinking about Belle and Kelsey riding “eddie the scooter” around the neighborhood…. and the beautiful sound of laughter… Baker’s daily romp with Airsoft guns…. knowing that I’ll get a huge secret hug from him when nobody is watching (because it’s obviously not cool to hug Dad!)….  Faranah…  always busy… always considering these two kids… always putting them first… always coming through with warmth from the heart…shared abundantly…consistently. 

The day is promising to be chilly and wet…. Yet I cannot wait to get through the day… and come home… to continue celebrating… to sit at our table and listen to the details…. to look around me…

Unexplainable…..

I am without words…. but with no less desire to speak them…. give them…

…. you are unbelievable… unbelievable….  it is as if you’ve stepped out of nowhere…out of a cloud…. and the sun suddenly shines brighter.. 

Tum paasse aye, Tum paasse aye
Yun Muskurayee, Tum nena jane kya
Sapne de khaye, Aabto mera dil
Jaane ka sota hai, Kya karoon ha yeKuch kuch hota hai

NaJaane kaisa eh saas hai
Bujhti nahi hai, Kya pyaass hai
Kya nasha es pya ro kya
Mujpe sanam , Chaane laga
Koina Jaane, Kyun Chain Hota Hai
Kya Karoon haye, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

Tum paasse aye, Tum paasse aye
Yun Muskurayee, Tum nena jane kya
Sapne de khaye, Aabto mera dil
Jaane ka sota hai, Kya karoon ha yeKuch kuch hota hai

Layers….

Still… sporadic beeps… and muffled discussions from a dimly lit hallway as hospice nurses busied themselves with their extraordinary tasks….  my grandmother, Mary Ruth Baker…motionless… shallow breathing… I sat there alone with her and wondered if she could hear me… then, I found myself racing through 40 years of memories… afternoons, holidays, weekends…. I still envision her on that old recliner… an iced Tab in her hand…. HeeHaw on Saturday nights…. she and my grandfather would laugh hysterically…  Both had a sparkle in their aging eyes..even then….  She was the cornerstone… the stone placed strategically in the corner of the family foundation…..  all things were built around her.  I remember her pacing the dining room… as the rest of us ate…. Thanksgiving… she kept our plates full and would only sit when everyone else had begun to show signs of pushing away from the table… Our feasts were huge….

Today…. I cannot fathom the feast that awaits her… After a lifetime of running the good race on tiring legs…. encouragement coming from a voice unrecognizable by most… Sitting beside her…. the scene unveiled… heaven’s balcony sagging from the waiting multitude…. faces leaning to catch a view of the approaching pilgrim… If I listened hard enough…. the rustling of wings…. She used to talk about the day that the trump would sound… as she wrapped her heart around me… my siblings…. cousins…. She had served as the outermost layer of our worlds… praying on our behalves… for our benefit….  Her stories etched in my memory….  while sadness found us Saturday morning… rejoicing undoubtedly errupted elsewhere….in a place we can scarcely imagine.

You will be missed here… but no power on earth can hold you now.  The table had been set… the feast prepared…. the trump did sound…