By Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams
In the past
couple of weeks, I’ve seen the same post repeatedly on social media. It’s a
good reminder and goes something like this—Hold people close and remember to
hug, say I love you, do today all those things you think you will get to do
later. Later may not come for some.
That is such a
profound truth. My family and I know it all too well. I have several dear
friends who know, as well. You know who you are and know that I am holding you in my heart today, and always.
Remembering Mama
This Friday,
December 13, will be twenty-three years since my Mama went to be with Jesus.
She was in a nursing home in Ft. Myers, Florida, where my sister lived. Daddy
was with Sis as he had recently had open heart surgery and was still recovering
from eight by-passes. Yes, I know that sounds ridiculously high, but that is
what his physicians told us.
Mama had suffered a series of little strokes, and dementia had already claimed a portion of
her memory. We had nurses with Mama for a while, but when it became apparent that
she needed far more care than that, we had to make the decision to put her into
a nursing facility where she would get the round-the-clock care she so desperately
needed. It was the most difficult decision my sister and I ever had to make.
My husband and I had
planned to make the two-hour trip to Ft. Myers from our home in Tampa that day,
December 13, 1996. We could get out the door as soon as we got our youngest off
to kindergarten. We’d have time to see Mama and Daddy and get back to Tampa to
get our son when he got home from school. A quick trip, yes, but at least we
would be seeing both of my parents.
At four-thirty
that morning, our phone rang.
I knew. I just
knew.
A Broken Heart
It was the first
time in my life I felt such profound, unimaginable, loss. Those of you who have been through this know
what that feels like. I am so sorry.
My heart still
aches for the want of one last hug, one last I love you, Mama. For the
touch of her hands which had sewn so many dresses, made so many party foods—she
wasn’t an everyday cook, but man could she make food for parties for her Sunday
School girls, as she so lovingly called them, or for her garden or civic clubs.
It’s the little things. Her knack for decorating, making something beautiful
out of nothing. To hear her call me Debbie Jane. Not my name, but her
pet name for me.
We thought we had
time.
We did not.
Do It Now
This Christmas,
give yourself and those you love the gift of time. Say all those things you’ve
held inside for too long, thinking you can say them later. Do those things you’ve
wanted to do with that special someone, be it a parent, a grandparent, or grandchild,
with a sibling, or even a friend. Don’t be afraid to say I love you. If
you know someone who doesn’t know Jesus, this is the perfect season in which to
share His story.
This is a tough
conversation. I won’t ask you to share it here. But please take my
advice and that as seen on social media. It could be the best gift you’ve ever
given someone—or even yourself.
TWEETABLE


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