Home » Parents and Parenting » Thursday Re-View — I Just Want to Talk With Them Again

Thursday Re-View — I Just Want to Talk With Them Again

I just want to talk with them again.

Mom and Dad. Just one more time to sit over a cup of coffee and catch up.

Mom died 26 years ago, Dad died 2 years ago, but sometimes the desire to talk with them tears my heart into pieces. Such a little thing – to talk together – is such a big thing.

If given the chance, what would I do?

First I’d tell them I loved them, how much I missed them, how much I wanted to thank them. And I’d stand wrapped in their arms until the weight of the world drifted away and all I could feel was their love. Protected, where no one or no thing could touch me without their permission. Yet when I picture the hug in the recesses of my 60-year old memory, I am still a little girl in a grown up world.

I just want to talk with them again.

To tell them about Alex’s wedding a week ago. How lovely it was, intimate, with only 30 people. The groom was handsome, the bride beautiful. It rained, but it rained on their first date and when Alex proposed, so rain seems to be a blessing of theirs. And how I didn’t cry until I saw the empty chair in the front row draped in white with their picture on it, honoring Mimi and Poppy who weren’t there. At least not physically…

To share pictures of their three grandsons, who are now all married and successfully giving back to society. To see their five great-grandchildren who are all healthy and bright and strong.

To describe yet another health scare last month, when the ER docs thought I had a second mini-stroke when I couldn’t remember whether or not Alex had gotten married yet. My brain was a blank slate, and of all the things that have ever happened with my health, this is the only one that scared me. And it reminded me that even though I have gone kicking and screaming into this forced retirement of sorts, perhaps I am not meant to be working full time. Perhaps my life, as it is, is enough.

To tell them about my blogging adventure, where 1,100 people have actually chosen to get an e-mail every time I post something. Where my love of writing, and desire to provide encouragement and inspiration meet in a ministry all its own. Where they can read about people and places and things that have touched me and helped me to grow in compassion and love.

To describe what it felt like to volunteer for the Red Cross as a mental health provider at the viewing and funeral for a Pennsylvania State Trooper who was ambushed outside his barracks. To honor him and his wife and two little boys by being present for those who mourned. To serve the thousands of State Troopers who came from as far away as Alaska, California, Texas, Minnesota, Iowa, North and South Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Ohio, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, New York, New Jersey, just to name a few. To describe what it felt like to see the best of humanity come together following the actions of the worst of humanity, and to know that the light will always overtake the darkness.

I just want to talk with them again.

But how long would I need for 26 years of updates for Mom, and 2 years of events for Dad? And if I honestly believe that our loved ones watch over us after they die – and I do – then I don’t really need to talk to them, to update them on their family, since they already know all that I would tell them.

Maybe I just want to hear their voices one more time, hold their hands in mine, feel their arms around me. To be swallowed up by their love, their protection, their wisdom. To know that regardless of what happens, everything will be alright.

Everything will be alright.

Dear God:
I just want to talk with Mom and Dad again.
Can you do that for me – please?
Theresa

________________________________________

30 thoughts on “Thursday Re-View — I Just Want to Talk With Them Again

  1. I wasn’t prepared for the heartwrenching little prayer at the end, it really caught me unawares. My mother died about the same time as yours and I too have often wished to be able to talk with her. Despite being a parent and a grandparent, I’m also a child wanting to know if my Mum has shared all the joys in my life, and all the sorrows since she passe on. I’d like to know if she’s standing by my beloved wife, watching my grandson grow and helping him up after a fall.
    My daughter recently had a head massage where she’s never been before. As she was preparing to leave the masseuse apologised and said if my daughter didn’t believe it was OK but that she had a message for her from her mother. The woman can’t have known Julia was dead. She told her something about some discord that had been in life with my sister. My daughter asked whether her Mum could see her grandson whom she never met to which the masseuse replied “That’s what you think” which then gave some context to my grandson constantly speaking to his Nana and often pointing. It gave me hope that nothing is missed by those we love.
    xxx Huge Hugs xxx.

  2. Beautifully written. I think you spoke for all of us who have lost our parents. To just have that one moment again. But I believe they were listening. They know.

  3. I agree with George. They are listening, sharing your current life with you, and aware of all the wonderful things you’re doing! But I also know the thought of that isn’t a great deal of comfort.

    Several months ago I had a wonderful, healing experience where I envisioned a visit with my long “departed” grandparents–perhaps you might try something similar? I sat down one afternoon to meditate and I had been missing my grandmother a great deal. During my meditation, I decided to envision a visit to their house. I pictured everything in my mind as clearly as I could remember…from the concrete walk going up to the house, the doorbell, and even the power and phone lines going into the house. I walked through the entire house, remembering every detail as clearly as I could.

    Then I imagined going into the kitchen and surprising both my grandparents–Grandad was sitting at the table reading a newspaper and eating peanut butter toast. Grandma was boiling water for tea. We all had a wonderful reunion and sat down to visit for awhile. I told them everything I wanted to and enjoyed a couple of hugs before I left. They felt so real and comforting.

    Even though I know I imagined the entire thing, I felt incredibly happy and satisfied when I finally said “so long” and ended my meditation. I also felt at peace, knowing that I could do the same thing any time I wanted to “visit” them…and I felt that, in some way, they were actually there, experiencing and sharing the experience.

    If you give something similar a try, please let me know how it goes!

    Hope it helps…

    Stargazer

    • Stargazer – your first paragraph says it all; my thanks for reading and commenting. Thank you for sharing your meditation – I’m glad it was such a wonderful experience – I will try it one day. Blessings…

  4. Such a beautiful post. It will be 4 years this spring that my Dad passed away, I miss him so much. Yesterday I drove his car to run some errands, instead of driving my own, and I imagined him there in the car with me, it was a wonderful feeling. Funny thing is that I’m pretty sure he’d be grumbling about my driving and complaining his car was in dire need of a wash had he really been there haha! πŸ˜‰
    ❀

  5. Beautiful post….thanks for sharing…it touched me. I’m 60 and lost my Mom 25 years ago and my Dad has dementia and from my perspective, I lost him a couple of years ago. I miss those chats and oh so many times when important events happen with their grandchildren, I want to pick up the phone and share…..thank you again!

  6. Whenever you write about your Mom and Dad it always makes me smile,although I usually shed a few tears also. I think being able to share times with Kris and her family and also Phil and his helps me to cope. My Mom as yours didn’t get that time and she would have cherished it so. I would so like to be able to talk to her. I know I will some day. Meanwhile I just keep enjoying these little ones and try to live my life as she raised me. Sorry to hear about you spell. Hope all is well now.
    Much love and Happy Easter.
    Missy

    • So good to hear from you, Missy, and to follow you and your beloved grandchildren on Facebook. Families who share such love are a wonder; I know you realize how blessed you are. Thank you for reading and commenting; in doing so, you honor my Mom & Dad, as well as your own.

  7. What a lovely expression of everlasting Love, Teresa. Sad, but I do believe that they are still with you in Spirit and they hear every prayer you share with them.
    Your ministry is an important and crowning achievement in your life. Do you realize how many pastors yearn for a congregation as large as yours? πŸ™‚

  8. My email has not been working for the past few days. So glad you posted this on Facebook and I saw it. Could not have been a more perfect time. Beautiful Theresa. So happy our paths crossed when they did and that you have become a part of my life.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s