Thursday, October 18, 2012

A Love that Lasts Forever

Nothing prepares us. There are no words that can prepare us for this thing called life, this thing called death. There are no words. There is no preparation. We just go forward as best we can.

One of my favorite people, one I call my other parent, is failing. I will probably not see her again. I don't like being the youngest. I don't like seeing those who have been in my life forever leaving me behind. Oh, yes, I do believe that we will be reunited, but until then, I say good-bye over and over again.

I'm not sure if this is what makes us wiser in our old age. I think perhaps it is. We learn from pain. It begins when we try to walk and fall on our bums. I happens when we send our kids off to college and then into marriage. Then is slams us in the face when we lose that first person we love. I just can't toughen up no matter what I believe. It hurts.

Doris was my rock even when I didn't know it. Their belief was much different than ours. The grandparents were German Baptist and had horses and buggies. We wore bathing suits when washing the car, and I know that Doris disapproved. They were our neighbors at the end of our lane. They saw all of the comings and goings that happened with the Loxley girls. I didn't pay much attention back then. I was a kid on the way to my life.

After I was married and had moved away from Darke County, my trips back often began on the stoop of the Lavy house. We passed the house on the way in which meant that if it was warm weather, Doris and Victor were sitting on the stoop waiting to see when we arrived. I watched for them as much as they watched for me. They were the first stop before we went up the lane if only to roll down a window to say hi. Each day of my visit, I walked to the bridge. If the neighbors were out, I walked down to talk for awhile. We talked of family and weather. We joked about how no one ever wanted me on their side when we played softball in their pasture. So what if I was a lousy player! It always brought a laugh and a memory. They filled me in on the health of my parents who would never tell their daughters a thing. They were as much my home as were those who lived back the lane.

When I lost my parents, Victor and Doris became my family. Doris once told me that she had always watched over me. My heart was so full of love for her. I never knew they cared as much as they did. I had no idea how much they loved me.

Two years ago I last visited them. They now live in the Brethren Home in separate rooms. Doris is in the assisted wing. Sometimes she fails to recognize those she loves. I can hardly wait to see them when I go home. To once more hold their hands and hug them. I know that Doris is failing rapidly. I know that life progresses as it must, but my heart breaks at the news. I wonder if she realizes that now I watch over her with a love born in a small girl back a lane.

This blog is for my dear friends and a thank you for all they have given to me. There is a missing that never ends. And even more so, a love that lasts forever.

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