Things that are HARD

                                                       


There are things in my life that are hard and there are things that are HARD.

It's hard to be a daughter. And it's often hard to be a sister and a friend. It's hard to pay bills and it's hard do yard work and auto repairs. But those things pale in comparison to being a mentor and trying to "coach" someone through grief and pain. Especially when you've been through it yourself. At least that's my feeling.

My friend recently lost her husband. Although they were only married a short time they were soul mates in every since of the word. And her loss happened very suddenly. Suddenly as in they went to bed and when she woke up he was no longer full of life.



Watching her travel down the lonely road of widowhood is troublesome for me. I remember the desperation that I felt in those early weeks and days. I remember people telling me to put one foot in front of the other and breathe. It wasn't easy. It never is. Sure I could put on a good act in front of people, but when I was alone, as she often is (they had no kids), I. FELL. APART.  I'm sure she does the same.

I wish I had some sage advice that would take away her hurt and pain and make everything alright. the only thing I can offer is...time. It takes time to smile again, to laugh again, to wake up and feel that happy-to-be-alive feeling. I did it a bit faster than most simply because I had 3 kids that were hurting just like I was and my mother had always taught me "the speed of the leader is the speed of the pack" so I knew that if I didn't, they wouldn't.

                                                          

There is something else that was hard for me today. This morning I attended the St. John Bosco Passion Play. Most of you have heard me tell of how B3 was casted to play Jesus. Remember the costume I made last week and how I labored over it? Well today I witnessed the fruit of my labor. Truly I hardly have words that express how I felt. It was AWE-some. The students did an phenomenal job and the play left me speechless in every sense of the word. The last scene portrayed them taking Jesus down from the cross and taking him off with Mary to be placed in a tomb. The stage was left dimly lit with red lights and the solitary cross to which my son, Jesus had just been nailed. POWERFUL. As I walked by his teacher she said "You should really be proud of B3" and I don't even think I could muster words to respond.

I attended the play last year. I remember being moved. I remember being teary eyed and leaving with the feeling of sorrow and to a degree remorse, but today it was different. A different I can't quite explain. I doubt I'll EVER forget the pride and sorrow I felt today. Today as my son portrayed Jesus.

I love Easter. I love everything it stands for and I am humbled every year during Holy Week, but THIS year I know a little of what it felt like to be Mary. It was HARD.

From this way too busy Momma, I bid you a Happy Easter. May all the blessings of our RISEN Lord be yours always and may the Easter Bunny bring you extra special surprises in your basket!                                              
                

See you on Tuesday!