Haunted Memories

Memories are unavoidable. They are a part of my life - a part of who I am - a part of who I am becoming. Memories are etched in my mind, even in my body, and also in my heart. They won't leave; no matter if they are good or bad. Some of my memories seem to haunt me. I would like to erase them, to pretend they never happened, push them out to drown in the sea. They seem to chase me sometimes, reminding me that I will never be the same; and that is true. Circumstances that mimic the last hours of Kira's life in our home seem to make me freeze. This past weekend, Anna had her first experience with the flu. Merlin was gone for the weekend, so I was alone with my fears and memories. As I lay beside Anna in bed, the darkness and memories overwhelmed me. Hours before Kira took her last breath, I had laid beside her in bed also. I thought she would be there beside me the next day too, but she wasn't. I was at her bedside at Hershey Medical Center. I looked over at sweet little Anna and wondered - will she be here tomorrow? My mind raced, flooded with memories I wish weren't there. They are not nice ones; ones a mother isn't supposed to have. The darkness threatened to crush me...I cried out to God in despair. I felt my hands clinging to the foot of the cross as Jesus reminded me that yes, these burdens, these haunted memories - I died for them also. They are not too big for Me - My grace is sufficient for you. I went to sleep, my arms still around the cross. The memories aren't gone - they will never leave me. But, God again used the situation to help me face the pain entrenched alongside the memories. A few days ago I heard Marlea singing "My Jesus has broad shoulders, his breath is stronger than mine." The song is actually worded "His back is stronger than mine." I doubled over laughing at that thought because her breath is strong sometimes, and the thought of Jesus' breath being stronger than hers was too much! Later I thought of it again and it also suddenly made sense; yes, Jesus' breath is stronger than mine. He could run many miles and still wouldn't be out of breath.

Kira was a Hershey kiss lover. In our back stairway we keep the cleaning cart for the inn. Kira would sneak up there and eat hershey kisses from the cart. The only mistake she made was in leaving a trail of wrappers around the cart and down the steps. And of course, a chocolate ring around her mouth. A wrapper is still there...no one wants to move it. How I wish I could find her up there again. Sometimes I eat one, just trying to be like her.

The days seem long right now and I find myself not caring whether or not Christmas comes this year. It seems horrid to celebrate. I also dread the thought of memories being a year old soon; it seems if Christmas comes, soon the anniversary of Kira's death will also be here quickly.

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea, Anna