Adventure #5- Who Am I?

 Who Am I?

Wedding ceremonies are rife with talk of "and the two shall become one flesh". However there is no expression that I know of for the reverse process that happens when you loose a spouse and become one again in your own right. Just as two becoming  one is not an instantaneous process neither is becoming whole again. 

One of the most unexpected and difficult emotions of the past year has been how lost I have felt. Who was I? What did I want? What made me, not us, happy? I didn't know. And to a large extent I still don't know. Perhaps in part because of who Mark was dictated who I was for so many years. He was a pastor so I was a pastor's wife.   

Not all but most jobs do not dictate who the wife is. The wife of a plumber, or factory worker, or cab driver is just a wife. Her identity is found in her job, or her children, or hobbies, but not in the job of her husband.  The job of pastor is different. I embraced being a pastor's wife and spent much of my time ministering to others alongside of Mark. Suddenly all that was gone leaving a gaping void, echoing with questions for which I had no answers. 

Last week was vacation week for Caleb and Maddie. Caleb spent an overnight at his friend's house. Maddie, not wanting to be left out, came to Grama's for her first solo overnight with me. She is the youngest of  my grandchildren and the last to still be starry-eyed at spending a night at Grama's. When we first came west, ten years ago, Chris' three youngest frequently spent the night. They loved to watch a collection of Bible Story videos I had and eat pancakes for breakfast. Then the two youngest came, then the youngest came once by herself. Now their lives are busy with friends and going to Grama's has lost its sparkle. 

Maddie was beside herself with excitement. We made her favorite, mini cupcake brownies. She declared them the best ones ever. I don't make brownies from scratch. My first attempt early in my married life resulted in a concoction so hard that Mark threw it and the pan away. Ever since then, brownie mixes have become my best friend. 

We put away the Easter decorations and got out the summer ones. She thought that the Pink Panther should ride the bicycle and deliver the milk. 

We squeezed into the recliner together before heading off to bed.  I'm still mastering the selfie art. Grace wanted to join us but we convinced her that there was no room,

In the morning she slept in for a bit with Grace. 

We made a very large, very full apple crisp for the Gospel Mission meal that night. In her younger days she called the homeless people, "the old people" because she couldn't bare the thought of anyone being without a home. 

She crawled up into my chair when she first woke up in the morning. We played numerous games of fish with some ancient fish cards. Something that I seemingly have always had and a favorite with all the grandkids. All too soon it was time for me to take her home. 

As we were getting ready to leave and she was asking me what my favorite part had been, some of the lostness vanished in my soul and some of the puzzle pieces came together in my mind. I knew at least in part who I was. I was a Grama and a mom. With the passing of time, how that expressed itself would change, but I would always be a Grama and a Mom.