Memory Days

Today, Saturday, started out like every other day this week since Tuesday.

• breakfast with camp teams
• individual and team devotional time
• workshops to prepare the kids for their ministry this summer
• lunch 

everything was rolling along as usual

We returned to the classroom. We finished up the last training session for this week. We broke into teams to complete a rotation we began two days ago. One group goes for the driving test with Jeremy. One group works on planning a week of camp. One group plays games with Smitha and Emily. My job is easy peasy-sit and listen to the planning, offering suggestions as needed

This afternoon Ryan's team was planning. After the other two teams went their ways Ryan, Zeb, Hannah and Destiny moved to the front of the classroom to access the whiteboard. I left and gave them a half hour or so to work on their own. When I returned I sat down. They were doing well. I sensed I was not doing so well. I have known Ryan for years. I realized I wouldn't be able to hide what was brewing, especially from him, so I quietly grabbed my phone and pocket package of Kleenex and left the room.

As a matter of fact, I left the building because I could tell this was not going to be a silent cry. I walked toward the north side of the building, looking for one of the wooden swings that are scattered around campus, hoping I would not see anyone until I could pull myself together. The swings have been moved. So I walked to the far end of campus and sat at a wooden picnic table, put my head down on my arms, and sobbed as memories flooded my mind.

Memorial Day is Monday. In Grayson (and I am sure in many other places) this is a big deal. There is way too much to celebrate in one day so it begins a few days before with our Memory Days festivities. There is a different theme every year. A contest is held early in the year where suggestions are submitted and a committee chooses one. Once the theme is decided there is a Tee shirt design contest. Main Street businesses begin planning their window displays.  

Thursday evening is the kick off. There is an opening ceremony which includes awards for the Theme winner and Tee shirt design winner. (I won one year and received a check for $25 and a free Memory Days Tee shirt. Bill had to wear a Polo shirt to the awards ceremony because if he'd worn a button up he would have popped all the buttons off he was so proud of me.) The window displays have been judged. Street vendors are more than willing to accept your cash. Live music fills the evening air, as several bands play on a stage that is set up in a large parking lot. Other family friendly activities are always available. Friday night there is usually more live music. Saturday includes a dog jog, an art show across the street from our home and a parade down Main Street. Sunday and Monday are reserved for family and picnics.

Bill loved everything about this almost week long celebration. Me, not so much. But I loved him, so I walked hand in hand with him up and down Main Street. Searching window displays for award ribbons, sometimes disagreeing with the judges. I went to the art show and meandered alongside him as we chose our favorites, noting which art received ribbons. If we were in the mood we could sit on our back porch to listen to the music playing uptown. I stood on the sidewalk next to him to watch the parade. I made deviled eggs and all the fixings for the picnics. It was special and I enjoyed it because of who I shared it with. This afternoon I was missing those days. 

Ruth, Mia, Kyle, Xavier
Memory Days Parade 2017

After thirty minutes or so, my storm passed. I returned to the classroom. The kids were doing well. I offered a few suggestions. Jeremy came to check on them and tell them the plan for the evening. I left with him. We chatted as we walked to the Life Center where to join the others. We all went out to the tennis courts and played Frog Ball. At four we left for Ashland to make a WalMart run, grab supper and go to the park. A threatening storm changed our plans. As we drove back to Grayson this is one of the songs the girls chose:

Tears began in earnest, silently, but seriously wetting my cheeks yet again. I was transported back to kneeling on a pillow, praying, my face buried in a chair seat as doctors worked in Bill's room almost three years ago. The next two songs fed the steady stream. As I sat, riding shotgun in a van filled with college students, following a van filled with college students I couldn't help but praise God, even in the midst of my pain. 
Why? 
Because God is faithful. 
God is good. 
God loves me. 
God makes it well with my soul.

I sometimes struggle with feelings of guilt. 
Why?  
It has been confusing. Tonight I took time to process. 
Those feelings often raise a ruckus when I remember life as it was, mourn the changes and then find comfort from the place I am in now. They are especially vocal if I am enjoying something I know I would not be involved in if Bill was still alive. ( Like this camp team training ministry). They try to convince me that I am dishonoring, forgetting my primary ministry: Bill and our family. Nothing could be further from the truth. The love we shared and the memories we made together is part of what gives me courage, part of what feeds my desire and willingness to say "yes" to new ministry opportunities. 

Here's to more days of making memories with people I love.