As I begin to type, my fingers lightly touch the keyboard and I feel the need to remove them. I feel the need to clasp my hands together, bow my head and...pray. Pray to the only God I've ever known, thank Him for all the blessings in my life and surrender my will to His.
Hillsong is singing, "Hosanna" and they're at the part where they say, "Break my heart for what breaks yours." I have a deep desire to turn it off and not deal with the mind chatter that's going on. I unclasp my hands and lay them on my lap symbolizing my need to give it ALL to Him. Sometimes, I think too much and this is a way to say, "Here Lord, have it all. You know I can't do it on my own. But with You, I have unconditional love, the power to forgive and let go, and the power to feel ultimate peace."
This past weekend the Hubs had to go to Virginia Beach on business. Luckily, we were all able to go with him. There's something about the beach that always calls to me. Maybe it's the grandeur of the deep and vast ocean, maybe it's the infinite grains of sand, maybe it's the sound of ocean waves crashing and seagulls singing. It's as if you were to stand on the coast by yourself and look out over the water, you could pray and know that somewhere beyond the ocean and sky, something greater was listening to you...something like the Lord.
The Lord has heard my heart and knows I am missing someone very special in my life...Papow Homer. It is even harder during the Christmas Season, not to have him around. But every now and then, the Lord blesses me with a smell or a memory of Him...
1995
"Hi Papow," I said as I untucked the blankets on the couch. It was about 3 am and he was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. I knew he had been smoking because I could still smell it's wonderful aroma. Surprisingly, I always liked the smell of it...it was comforting...it was papow.
I went to sit at the opposite end of the table and I talked for a little while. His slate blue eyes told me that he loved listening to my 10 year old self talk. He gave me a saucer and filled it with a little coffee. I felt like such a big kid.
Fast forward to a few months ago, he's been gone for four years now. I was cleaning the kids bathroom when all of a sudden I smelt the familiar smell of his cigarette smoke. I immediately stopped, closed my eyes and breathed it in.
"Odd," I thought. "No one smokes in our house." How did that happen? Sometimes, I think he's still around me. It's comforting.
2003
It was Christmas Time and we all had come over to Mamow and Papow's house to celebrate. He always stopped what he was watching and let us have the tv. But I was about to graduate high school and I didn't want to lay belly down infront of the tv anymore. Instead, I sat beside him. He reached over and held my hand. It felt cool to the touch and I could see the age on his hands. That was the first time he'd done that. He was still silent but that's how papow was. I knew he loved me.
Seeing that same kitchen table, now covered with Christmas oranges and walnuts, I saw my family sitting around talking and enjoying each other's company. Looking back, those were special memories.
2009
Halloween had approached us and the Hubs and I were having our first Halloween party in our new house. It was a costume party and everyone dressed up. Me-I was Sarah Palin : ) Papow had come and sat on the porch most that night. A few times, I went out there to sit with him. But he was unusually quiet. Papow was a quiet man but he was even more so that night. I wished I had sat out there longer with him...
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| Last Photo Taken With Papow |
A few weeks later and it was November, I got the call that he was in the hospital. He would spend Christmas there and not get to open our presents. Most of the time he was on the ventilator. I still can hear the beeping and the swish of air from the machines. It was a scary time. We bought him a Christmas tree and put it in his room. I don't know if he got to see it.
In the last few weeks, they moved him to Lexington, Kentucky. Mamow stayed in the hospital with him. What a beautiful wife she is. For better for worse. In sickness and in health...
The Hubs and I drove all the way from Roanoke, Virginia to see him. I so desperately wanted him to talk to me. He really had been gone since November. I just wanted to hear his voice. On the trip up there, it snowed and snowed. When we made it and I sat by his bed he did something so miraculous. It had to be from God.
Mamow said, "Kim's here, Homer."
And slowly, he opened his eyes. Oh what beautiful slate blue eyes he had. He smiled so big I could see the wrinkles on the sides of his eyes. I held his hand. And then he spoke to me.
"You are so pretty," he said softly.
I'm crying now. It's too hard to think about. That was the last thing he ever said to me.
February 11, 2010
A few weeks later, I got the call while driving that he had passed away. I pulled over into a church parking lot and cried...
I was asked to sing at his funeral. This was not going to be easy. So I practiced singing at mamow's church. The Hubs was with me. No matter what I did, I couldn't make it through the song. We were the only ones there. I felt close to God and at the same time so alone. Every time, I'd get to the part "...and heaven accept you when it's time to go home," of Lady Antebellum's song, "Never Alone," I'd break down and cry.
Somehow, at his funeral I made it through the song. But oh how hard it was.
When it was time for the casket to be closed, I thought the family would get to say goodbye one more time. But I never did. He was buried on a cold February day with the snow flakes falling.
Death is an empty feeling. A loss of control feeling. A lonely feeling. In reality, death is so many things that we can't understand...that we cant put into words. Simply, when someone dies the ache never seems to go away. It gets better but it will always be there.
A Few Weeks Later
A few weeks later, papow came to me in my dreams. I was standing on the hill where they buried him. It was sunny and the grass was golden yellow. Off in the distance, I saw papow sitting at a table with a black haired lady clothed in a blue dress. I went up to papow and saw his beautiful slate blue eyes. But he didn't talk to me. It was the lady that talked to me.
"You don't have to worry about your papow anymore," she said.
"He's okay now."
And I felt peace.
That was the last time I ever saw him.
Some people say that dreams shouldn't be believed. But it was so comforting and peaceful that I have to believe it. It was as if God gave me a final goodbye to him. And I must take that and embrace it. I know that one day, I will see him again and he will get to hold his grandchildren.
Do you know what is hardest of all?
Looking into my kids eyes and seeing beautiful slate blue. He never got to hold them. But I know if he did, his eyes would crinkle up into a smile and pure joy would be felt all over his face.
Thanksgiving and Christmas is hard during this time. I miss him terribly.
So I go to the store and smell someone's cigarette smoke. I breathe it in and remember him. I buy Christmas oranges and walnuts. I place them on my own kitchen table and remember. I look into my children's eyes and imagine what he would do if he got to hold them. And I pray. I pray hard for my mamow and my mom and myself. Pray for peace and joy and love. That's what he would have wanted.
So I go to the store and smell someone's cigarette smoke. I breathe it in and remember him. I buy Christmas oranges and walnuts. I place them on my own kitchen table and remember. I look into my children's eyes and imagine what he would do if he got to hold them. And I pray. I pray hard for my mamow and my mom and myself. Pray for peace and joy and love. That's what he would have wanted.
Papow,
I miss seeing you sitting at the kitchen table. I miss the smell of your cigarettes and the taste of your coffee. I miss being in your quiet presence.
In Loving Memory of Homer Eugene Kendrick
Beautiful Slate Blue Eyes, A Quiet Spirit and a Wonderful Grandfather
June 3, 1932 - February 11, 2010
