I went to a funeral this morning to say goodbye to a very sweet lady. I hadn't seen her in what seems like a lifetime but once there and as the slide show played it was as if I was that little girl running down the way on early summer mornings to her house to play with her grand kids.
Robyn's, my childhood best friend, grandmother passed away this week.
I have had a lot of death come my way in the past few years. As sad as it is it's almost 'normal' to go to a funeral every 6 months or so. But this one really struck me. Maybe it's hormones or maybe I am finally feeling some sort of need to morn my own grandmother and mother in law, I'm not real sure.
As I sat and listened to words spoke about Mary Francis I couldn't help but let big hot tears roll down my cheeks.
She lived for her family. That was it. Nothing more and nothing less. She loved her grand kids and took care of them. As did my own grandmother, my Mema S. They were both simple women. They didn't have any sort of 'higher' education. They worked hard to keep their homes nice and pretty. They were proud of what they had. All they needed in life to keep them happy was to see their family happy. Never speaking idle words of others and just not letting the small stuff get to them.
God always seems to know exactly what to put in my life at the right time. Yesterday I was struggling with fake persona's that people often put on. I was just at the point where I am/was tired of it. It's exhausting to listen too I can't even imagine how people live that way. But today I received a huge message to let it go.
Just let it go.
It isn't important.
I am not here to worry and wonder if someone is being truthful to me or not.
My husband and my child(ren) need me to be strong and happy. They come before all others. I support them in everything they do. I may not like to do everything they want to do (racing lol) but I am 100% supportive of Brent and Lucas.
I always want Lucas to see me being nice and kind to others.
I want others to see Jesus through me and my family instead of having to 'preach' to them. I don't want to push and I don't want anyone walking away from a conversation with me feeling like less.
That hurts me.
As I sat in that funeral home, that is across the street from my moms house thus meaning down the road from where Mary Francis lived many years, listening to her legacy I couldn't help but hope that when I am gone some of the same words will be spoke about me.
I hope my kids say she was our biggest fan.
I hope they say she enjoyed life even in the midst of hard times.
I hope my husband says she served me well.
I hope others say she was always kind to us.
I hope someone says I knew Jesus was real because she was in my life.
Those are big, huge sentences to me. They mean more to me than all the money in the world, than any career I could ever obtain, or than any social status I may think I need.
I am not sure where exactly I am going with all this. It just seems the older I get the more I truly understand what is important and what isn't.
Life gets harder, more complicated, more frustrating but at the end of the day who do I want to be. Someone who relishes in that or someone who rises above it.