Driving home (Hot spot rocks ...)

Early this morning I drove Tommy's freshly washed truck from Mamma's over to his house and backed it into his driveway ... it took a couple of tries to get it right and I pegged that landscaping light again though it's none the worse for the wear.  It was a bit emotional for me, leaving Momma's apartment, I watered the plants and carried out the trash, ordinary things ... we will be back next week to make arrangements for her furniture ... for her things.  When she asked what would become of her household items, I asked her if it might be okay for us to keep everything pretty much together to furnish the place at Port A which we intend to buy as soon as possible (and it's getting pretty close I think).

My body is absolutely exhausted.  And ... I'm not that sleepy.  I feel just ... weary ... kinda weepy ...
not at all like myself ... everywhere is sore.  I need some serious walking to work out the kinks these next few days, hope Sammy remembers our path.

Saying "see ya later" to my brother kinda snuck up on me last evening, my eyes filled up again ... I don't like to burden him with my grief ... normally I would lean on him during "a time like this" but just now I need him to use every bit of his energy to just get better.  He is still in the hospital, getting stronger ... he will be able to eat now so that will give him a good support as he works towards remission.  I am grateful for that ... and the process of becoming a viable candidate for the surgery which makes eating possible has been an answer to prayers.
Prayer, why does it matter?  Before this I thought I had settled on the notion that prayer changes the heart of the person who is praying ... and I think, yeah, still that.  But/And ... more.  Does it turn the attention of God to our matters?  I don't know ... I've always heard He knows what we need before we pray ... and I've read that we have not because we ask not.  One thing I've noticed for sure during these last several weeks ... people approach the throne in all different ways.  I'll be thinking about prayer more.  I do know it makes me feel less alone.  I feel that God is present and trustworthy.
So ... a see ya and a sisterly admonition to get better this next week, no lulling around at the hospital (those nurses really do cater to him ... I'm so grateful for them) ... he said, "stronger every day" ... and it does appear that he is on track with that approach.

It just doesn't make much sense to me to cry.  I like that people can ... I just don't give my self permission to much, makes it hard to see, and how does one make time for that?
Something I hope I have learned well enough to retain is that when I can't figure out what to do next it's probably because I am getting ahead of what God is working out.  This entire experience with Momma's illness and subsequent death has been like a crash course in "God Knows What He Is Doing 101".  When big stuff happens fast it's easier to see that something significant is happening and maybe, just maybe significant stuff is always happening ... maybe everything is more important then it seems ... ummm ... more ordered(?) ... more in order(?) .... more as it should be.  The "little pieces" may be a big deal as they combine to make up the "big pieces" of our lives.  I am not a person who leans towards thinking stuff is just happenstance, but I have believed the threads of our days are less tightly woven then it now seems to me.    The sequence of events for my momma fell together perfectly, as a swirling line of dominos falls when they are lined up well and set in motion.  I couldn't see the invisible hand, but it seems that Momma did ... did see real people, places, activities which I could only see her seeing.

It'll take me a while to circle in on my thoughts about these past few weeks ... everything happened so very fast.  At the beginning of March we didn't know she was not well ... and now I am sitting in the passenger seat while L drives us home ... just past the airport at Jennings ... there is a begonia resting in the bowl that my  momma served Cranberry Fluff in every Thanksgiving right behind me in the back seat ... tonight I get to sleep in my own bed ... it's a lot ... not much, just a tiny bit too much, it makes my tummy tighten and my eyes leak.

I posted those pics below, before this post, with the intention to come back and fill in.
Here's what I can say right now though ... I got to hold my momma while she passed ... it wasn't horrible.  It seemed really right for me to be there and ... as I look back on it, I recognize that I expected to help her through this all along.  I wanted her to not need to be afraid and it turned out that she wasn't.  It was very much like a beginning.  I think things are well with her. And ... for my brother ... he gets stronger every day ... and that is really good.  A thing like this tends to "re-boot" ones perspective.

I'm thinking about that ... and when I rest up a bit I'm gonna check in on how I "feel" (it might be messy).

For now ... a few days with my family is what's next.