Old Cars & Other Graces

 

I’ve got all the feels this week. So much has happened, and more than once I’ve experienced leaky eyes. Sentimentality shows up these days when I least expect it. A wise seminary professor calls this growth. My husband calls it hormones. Whatever it is, I am feeling it.

Monday started like any other. I did all the usual workday things, including a late afternoon run to the grocery store for milk. While I shopped, my phone rang. I picked it up only to hear the words every mother dreads. “Mom, I’ve been in an accident.” Needless to say, I abandoned the cart and left the store. I arrived to the ugly scene of a mangled car. Lucas stood next to the old car with only a dirty face, scratched hands, and a seatbelt bruise. That 20-year old car deployed her aging airbags, and even when her brakes failed to respond after the crash, she rolled to a stop and protected her precious cargo.

What a grace! God, I’m thankful for old, faithful cars and an uninjured child.

And that’s just one of many everyday gifts I’ve experienced this week.

My precious MIL Margaret, who already suffers from dementia, had a stroke two weeks ago. It did not leave her physically debilitated, but her cognitive function has suffered. Her mind and personality are slipping away quickly. She is no longer the saintly woman who remained married to my FIL for 50+ years and who expertly raised my tender-loving husband. Many days she lives not in the present but in the past; she talks of growing up on the farm, having ice cream cones, and spending time with a much-beloved favorite aunt. It’s a happy place. And besides that, she told Roger this week that Jesus was coming to get her.

What a grace! God, I’m thankful for happiness remembered and anticipated.

So that Roger could be with his mother, I filled in as the chaplain of Brewster Retirement Community over the weekend. I do this periodically, so the folks there know who I am. All the residents welcome me warmly with smiles, hugs, and handshakes; the ladies treat me like family and invite me to dinner. When I leave there, my heart is always full. Those folks give me more than I could ever give them.

What a grace! God, I’m thankful for the joy of community.

And that is not even all.

Knowing I was lonely with Roger away, Ethan came over to watch the Super Bowl and share dinner with me. He chattered like he always does and filled the house with fun-loving energy and good humor. What a grace!

And finally after a week away, Roger returned home. The dogs are so happy that the snuggler-in-chief is home, and I again have a companion for talking about life, watching the news, eating dinner, and sharing a bottle of wine. What a grace!

My feelings are creeping up towards my eyes again, but that’s okay. I love deeply, and I am loved in return.

Life is grace upon grace. And I am grateful.

 

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