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Today is May 30, 2018 and it’s been 53 days since I sat in the hospital room and watched you take your last breath.  I know how many days it’s been because I count them.  I have somehow convinced myself that when I get to a certain number of days, it won’t hurt as bad.  So, I keep counting.  I find myself hoping that once I reach 60, 75 or maybe 100…that the pain will somehow lessen or magically disappear.  But as I sit and think about April 7, 2018….all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry until there are no more tears left in my tear ducts to cry.  April 7, 2018 is the day that you went home to be with the LORD.  It is the day that pain, sorrow and weariness ceased to exist for you; but it is also the day that my heart completely broke into a million pieces.

Yes, I know that to be absent from the body is to be present with the LORD.  I know that to live is Christ and to die is gain.  I know that you are no longer tired or suffering.  I know!!  I am present to these truths.  And I praise God every day because I know where you are and I know that you are resting.  But listen here!  I loved me some Janice Delcine McBride!  And being present to the truth and the promises of God does not erase the immense aching that overwhelms my heart.

Momma….I miss you so much!  I miss your presence, your smile and your laughter.  I miss our conversations.  I miss being able to come home to you sitting in the living room watching your shows.  I miss eating Candy Pepper Wings with you.  I feel so lost and empty without you here.  Our family has certainly endured a lot of pain and loss over the years.  But this here….the pain and grief that I am experiencing right now is indescribable.

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You’ve always been there.  My Mother was 16 when I was born.  The 1st home that I lived in was your home.  I lived with you the first few years of my life.  Once we moved out of the family home, I still spent many weekends and summers with you as a young child.  When I was in the 7th grade, I began living with you again.  You helped raise me.  You helped raise my own children.  For the first four to five years of their lives, you were their primary caretaker.  While I attended classes full-time and worked part-time, they were with you.  When I graduated from college and moved to VA, you wouldn’t let me take them with me.  You kept them the entire 1st year that I was in VA so I could get established.  You wanted to ensure that I had a firm foundation here.  I still remember the tears that poured from your eyes when I came to pick up the girls.  You let them leave; but had them every summer after that.  When I traveled for work, you came to VA to be with the girls.  When we went on family vacations, we made sure you were with us.  You flew to Las Vegas to watch me get married.  You took my girls on their 1st trip to Disney World.  You came to MD to watch me receive my Master’s Degree.  You were front and center when I preached my initial sermon.  You were always there without fail.  That’s the kind of Momma you were to me.  Now, what am I supposed to do without you??

People say that time heals all wounds.  It’s been 53 days and time is doing nothing for me but making me miss you more.  Maybe 60, 75 or 100 days will make a difference….I guess we’ll see.

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Our next blog post will feature Nephateria’s sharing how she feels at 60 days. Stay tuned and keep her in your prayers.

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