in front of our house...
the street was lined with cars double-parked
an ambulance sat still and silent in the middle of the street
neighbors stood and gathered
I parked in the driveway and got out of the car
My neighbor walked quietly over to me
and I knew
I could see it in his eyes
"My wife is terminal, so we brought her home to die"
his words feeling like a punch in the stomach
I looked again at the cars lining the street and realized that they had all come home...
all of their kids
had come home for Mother's Day
to be with her...
when she died
songs they had learned for their upcoming Christian musical
"Shhhh... get into the car quietly please"
I instructed, as my oldest inquired
"Why do you want us to be quiet?"
and I explained...
people are mourning and
when people mourn
we should be respectful of that fact
by being quiet
And once we were safely in the car I realized
that my 11-year old might actually be smarter than me
as he respectfully asked
"But Mom, if they are sad, shouldn't we actually sing louder?"
And I knew what he was trying to tell me
God allowed the sun to still rise and shine this morning
and He allowed us to rise and shine to still see it so...
"We should not feel the need to dim our lights
just because someone else is having a dark moment"
(After all, isn't that the time when they need to see our light the most?)
Because when Mother's Day... isn't
(maybe, just maybe)
is the only thing needed to remind someone
that even when it feels like
We're still here
to prove without a doubt
that for today and always