Wilted Flowers

Today marks the 3-month anniversary of one of the most life-altering events I could never be prepared for. One quarter of a year has passed but it feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago, with each day bathed in tears.

Many of you reading this know me personally, yet may not be aware that my mom died unexpectedly on November 2, 2024. She suffered a massive brain bleed and never regained consciousness. She was essentially gone in an instant, without warning, taking with her the chance to ask questions that would forever go unanswered, or have one last conversation.

Our “goodbye” and “I love you” whispers were only for us to hear. She physically left this world sixty-one agonizing hours later.

I’ve spent the past three months thinking I would write a blog series on grief, love, and life with a focus on parental loss. I considered paying tribute to Mom using my words and sharing more about her with my subscribers, friends, and followers…but I can’t. I am not ready.

Instead, as this writer struggles to find words, I will focus on remembering to breathe. Someday, I’ll share some of what I’m learning and tell you all about her.

For now, know that God uses us in mysterious ways. Six weeks after Mom died, I was holding the hand of a former pastor as he was about to pass from the exact same thing. God had prepared me to serve others. My heart wasn’t ready, I had yet to accept completely that my one and only mom would never have another word to say to me, but I was oddly prepared to help others even while grieving. I think Mom would have appreciated that.

In these three months, at least five people I know, or who are known by my friends, have had fatal brain bleeds and two others have lost parents. I don’t know what God has planned for me, but I’m starting to see a path with possibilities I never considered.

The series about Mom, death, grieving, and living, will come, but not yet.

I will tell you all about her, but not yet.

Her last flowers died long ago but I couldn't bear to discard them. Her obituary was being written and revised by Dad, but now it's completed. 

These final steps make it a little more real. She didn't want a memorial service, but we'll be hosting the party she wanted in early summer. Until then, I'm not letting go. I haven't found time for my own grief yet.

My dad wrote some of the most difficult words he’s ever had to. I’m so proud of him. The photos scroll through four assorted pictures, reflecting different stages of her life. Please visit her page, Dad shared some great words and some things Mom would tell you if she were here.

Many of you knew her, most of you know me, and a few only know my writing. Mom, you will forever be a part of who I am...that's just how things work!

https://www.pearsonsroseburg.com/obituaries/sharon-ingold

Puppy Love

One More Thing...

Cherish every moment. Be kind. Love the hurting. Time is nothing if you don't use it well.

Take care, and remember, I'm always here to pray for you if you have a need or request.

Lois Lynn

NOTE: If you are the first person to comment, you must click on "No Comments"