Blink

A day can turn on a dime.

One morning we're lolling about, getting ready for a typical day,

and the next moment, Mike learns that he has become motherless.

And just ten hours later, we find ourselves

sitting in his father's living room again,

just a handful of days after our last visit to southwest Florida.

The weather is absolutely gorgeous; mild and breezy.

Inside, stunned and silent, we sit, six of us,

commenting now and then on the Patriots, the election,

the weather.

Death may be inevitable, it may even be expected, but it is no less a shock.

We know her pain is gone, we know she is with Jesus, but we still mourn.

And we play cards with Dad,

and we distract him with chatter,

and we pray and we eat and we doze.

One big hurdle left...the funeral is tomorrow at 11am,

and Mike's dad is dreading the emotion of it,

and the discomfort that is particularly strong when one is an introvert.

Mike has the benefit of his heavenly Father's

peace-that-passes-understanding,

and we pray that his family will experience the same,

and be drawn to the Savior,

and embrace Him,

as Dottie Ellis did many years ago in her heart

and Monday face to face!