The Final Podcast (or not)

The door creaked quietly and I heard my son’s clunky gait slip “stealthily” into Kari’s bedroom. “Hmm, I wonder what he is up to now?” It was Sunday morning and I was meditatively sitting on my sofa, staring at the Christmas tree. It is abnormal for me, on a Sunday morning, to be sitting. All of life now seems strange without Kari. For 39 years, getting my children to church has always been a major task – certainly no time for sitting!

“This will be my final podcast from Kari’s room!” My ears perked up. What is he saying into that microphone? Long pause, “Well, maybe this is not Kari’s room because she has one in heaven now!” Long pause…. “NO, this cannot be the final podcast… I need to remember Kari and all that we did together!!!”

He then began telling each one of Kari’s stuffed animals and dolls all the memories that she and he shared during his lifetime. From the living room my tears wouldn’t stop flowing but a precious smile came to my face as I remembered what the children’s hospice counselor had told me. At some point, we may see in Matthew the fear that he may forget his sister. I think I was witnessing this new season on the last Sunday of Advent.

He emerged from the bedroom as I quickly dried my tears. He plopped beside me, microphone in hand, and said, “Mom, I think we should take turns saying everything we can remember about Kari!”

“Good idea, Matthew” I replied. And so that is what we did. My memories could have gone on for the rest of the day, but soon the recording device was packed, and he was ready to move on with his day. I guess he was convinced we won’t forget.

So, if you ask how we are doing this Christmas. I would answer, I think we are doing OK. Grieving as people, who are crazily missing a loved one, should be doing. Shedding tears, expressing memories, and feeling peace and joy deep in the heart even as we ponder life as a smaller family.

And speaking of Advent, Jesus was born to die – to be the sacrifice for our sin. His birth is sweet and all – cute baby, born in a manger, donkey and doves, mean old innkeeper, sweet smelling hay. All of this in the shadow of the cross. Grueling, painful death for me because I am a sinner who can’t take away my own sin. Now that is the ugly.

Of all mamas that have buried their child, Mary would be one that I say has every reason to cry out, “Please, don’t forget my child!”

Kari and Ryan will be forgotten by most, I know that. But I will never forget them. On this final Advent before we celebrate my Redeemer’s birth, I beg you, don’t forget Jesus who not only became flesh, died a horrible death and rose again for me and you. Never forget! And take a moment to receive Him into your heart. “This is not the last podcast, Matthew. We must remember!”

A Blessed Christmas… Til next time.