“Nothing in life is permanent, but change.” -unknown

Sometimes in moments like these, I have to remind myself that I am living a life between two gardens. That none of this is permanent. Sometimes, the right here right now, is too painful when we take our eyes off of eternity.

Truth be told- this is not our home, but on this side of heaven, this home right here, will always be a little piece of heaven to me. Inside these four walls are greatly responsible for what built the woman that I am today. It was my constant and my refuge. It was my safe place and my abode from the world. It was a place that took us in and got us back on our feet. It was a place that my little family would one day build countless memories in and foundations on. A place that that I would get to know and hold dear for 35 years.

But, today it was time to say goodbye. Not to the precious memories, but to the physical feeling of my feet standing on it and in it and it belonging to us. The address is no longer ours. It’s an ending to an era and a season.

Pulling into this driveway for the last time felt like a punch to the stomach as a lump in my throat arose and tears filled my eyes. A reality that this season that built part of who I am is coming to a close. A place that in that moment, would soon be a lifetime of memories.

As Jasper and I walked every inch of the property, every little detail was brought back to life. Me standing there through the decades- at 4, and at 14, 24 and 34. It was as if I was watching a movie of my very own life running in my head- I saw the ivy in the courtyard that I used to play in as a child as I ran down the stone walls as a gymnast, as I watched my own son’s imagination in those very places, and the shop that I used to run into looking for Papa with a scar on my hand that still reminds me of those precious days. I can still see my little brother standing at the kitchen table in the cottage behind my grandparents where we lived. I can still smell dinners that mama used to cook and share as a family of 3 and Looney Tunes on a Saturday morning cuddled up on the couch. I can still feel the rocking of the front porch swing where Grammie would bless us with fresh strawberries and powdered sugar in the summers. I can only imagine the sounds that filled that place when all of the family were gathered and the joy that it must have brought my grandparents, knowing the joy that it brought to me. I can only imagine the site of Jesus looking down and watching all of the lives being restored in that home through years of taking in the broken and healing hearts.

But today, not a single thing was left inside- for me, It was the great room that no longer holds the piano, but will forever hold the sounds of my Papa playing his wonderful music. It was the den where countless hours were poured into our lives and thousands of others where truth and wisdom were spoken that will be carried through generations. It was the bedrooms that held people from all over the world that they would minister and pour into for decades. It was the kitchen that held the smells of Papa’s fresh baked homemade breads and pies. It was the peace that instantly infiltrated your heart as soon as you walked in. The list could go on and on forever of the memories that this place holds.

There is a writing about Mother’s and their “lasts.” Where you never know it’s a last, until it’s a last. I was boldly reminded of that today. I didn’t know it would be the last time I would see Papa down in the shop tuning a grand piano with the wildest smile one his face. If I would have known, I would have sat there and watched him with intent. I didn’t know it would be the last time I would see him pulling one of his fresh baked pies out of that oven. If I did, I would have asked him to teach me his secret recipes. I didn’t know it would be the last time he would sit for hours in that great room pouring into John and I. If I did, we would have never left. I didn’t know it would be our last time sitting around the room with the entire family as he played Christmas carols and we all sang. If I did, I would have sang forever, but instead we left a night early. I didn’t know it would be the last time he hugged me and kissed my cheek as we walked out the door to leave as he said “bye Chel. I love you.” If I did, I would have held him so tightly and tried my best to remember what that felt like. I didn’t know any of these would be the last, until it was.

I think my heart will forever ache for this place and the feelings and safety that it held.
As I poured these words out of my heart while the rest of the world was asleep, I didn’t even realize I was crying, but felt tears streaming down my face. Today reminded me of how precious life and death are. Because truthfully, they both come with such precious lessons.

Death is evident and grief is inevitable. It does something inside of your soul. It’s a part of the process to healing- all the should haves and could haves. I recently went to a grief class that one of my best friends was hosting as a counselor. I fought it and didn’t want to go. I walked in a ragged mess fighting back tears because I knew I had work to do. I knew I was holding back on stuff that I need to face in order to heal. It’s a process and I’m learning. Today was a part of that process.

She asked one question- would you give it all up to not have to feel this pain? And the answer is absolutely not.

So, friend to friend. You never know when your last will be your last, until it is. I fail at this miserably getting caught up in the chaos of our own lives. Even since Papa has been gone, I’ve failed at it. Hug them tighter. Call them more. Make Intentionality forefront for your people. One day it will be an empty house and an echo of sounds in a place that once held so much.

I had a dream recently and he was walking in a field along a stream, looking down smiling. I was across the creek and he looked up at me and said, “I’m in my most favorite place ever.” in my eyes- I know you are Papa, but I miss you sooo much.” And with everything in me, I do know he is in his most favorite place ever!

You see, life comes with goodbyes. It’s a guarantee. Not an if, but when. And sometimes they are quite painful, just like this one. This one has turned my world upside down where I still find myself picking up the phone to call him. It’s a loneliness I’ve never quite known to this extent. I don’t like this goodbye at all. It’s not comfortable and it doesn’t feel right. In fact, every bit of it feels wrong, because i’m left with a hole inside, longing for that constant that was always there. But, I guess the older we get and the more goodbyes we have to say, it leaves us with a yearning for heaven. It’s a reminder that even though we have these precious people and places here on earth, that this is not our home.

I know Papa is in his favorite place ever. Happy as a lark. I try to remind myself of that whenever I get down. He left this family with one of the greatest legacy’s that I feel ever existed. And for that, I am forever grateful. The life lessons that he humbly flooded straight down from his heart will never be forgotten. His Papa- isms will never fade away. This house will never lose what it gave me. My heart will forever be changed because of it. Thank you for 35 years of glory and a lifetime in heaven.

From a grateful heart,

Chels