Dearest Readers,

Our long goodbye is over. Mom breathed her last today and now she is whole. We have stopped counting down her days here and now we begin counting up the days until we are with her again there. We feel as if we have finished a marathon. Exhausted, but we have run a good race to the best of our abilities and now are in need of some recovery.

Many of you, who walked this road before us, have turned back and held out your light to illuminate our way. Others of you, who are walking along with us on a parallel journey, have stood with us shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart. Glancing our way and taking our hands as we navigated the twists and turns of this road together. Still others of you are coming behind us, and now we will turn and give you a hand, as you climb over the obstacles in your own path.  Some have done the important work of prayer throughout our walk, for the love of Mom or for the love of us. No matter how you have crossed our path…we thank you.

We are woven together, all of us. We depend on one another. Each thread of this tapestry is part of the whole, but still brings its own color. We are intricately linked in spirit, while walking our loved ones home. Now, we shift from the anticipatory grief we have carried these last 7 years, and into the grief of finality. All the firsts without her. All the days we will miss her. The ache in our hearts that will not fully go away, because we loved and were loved by her greatly. We join so many of you, who have already said your own goodbyes.

We are unsure how to make it through this next part. Our hearts are already so tender from the bruising of the journey. Our bodies worn down by the exhaustion that has been our companion for these last years. Our emotions raw from losing pieces of her bit by bit. We know this new grief will also take its toll in a different way. We also know those who have already experienced this loss will stand in solidarity and hold space for us as we grieve. We are grateful for you. The best kinds of friends.

Ultimately, we believe in the hope of a God who knows loss, but also welcomes Mom into his arms. She has met him now, face to face. Her lifelong faith in an invisible God, now made visible to her eyes. In our mind’s eye, that picture brings us joy. Wholeness. Healing. Reunion. Rejoicing. Quite a party for Mom I am sure. We will be celebrating her life in our own way, in one of her favorite places. Details will be available as soon as we have them. In the meantime, prayers for this transition are appreciated. We love you all.