They Say Things Happen in Threes

"They" say it. I'm not sure who they are, but I've heard it all of my life. Losing my daddy was hard, and I'm not sure you can ever be prepared for that. Still, we knew it was coming, had at least a little time to prepare for it, and got to say goodbye. 

Though we all struggle because we miss him, we are trying to muscle our way through each day and figure out this new existence. Just about the time we began setting into it all, the second thing happened. 

Rodney went to grab something for Mama and me to eat, and when he came back he just stood in the doorway and looked at me. I knew something wasn't right, and I just watched his face. After a moment or two I asked him what happened. He had the weirdest look on his face when he began telling me, all the while I'm searching it to find the answer. Finally, he broke down crying, sobbing really, and said that Pam called and said Danny D'Armond died. He just kept saying, "He was my brother." 

I guess to understand a blow like this, you'd have to really get those people in your life who weren't born into your family but just are...your family. I've known about the D'Armonds since Rodney came into my life. He's literally known Danny for his entire life, and he has loved him like a little brother since. On January 9, 2021, this 38-year-old, father (of two) unexpectantly went to be with the Lord. I had no words because how do you make that be okay?! We just had to love on his parents because there wasn't a thing to say except he was celebrating with Jesus, and maybe he found my daddy and Uncle Jerry for the big game. 

On the following Monday, I had a meeting with my boss. He asked how things were going, and I told him the truth...things have been better. He, of course, knew about my dad. I filled him in on Danny. I told him I felt a little yucky, just needed rest. I made that comment then. The "They say things happen in threes" comment. We both smiled and said, yeah, hopefully not. 

I had been gone from his office for about an hour when I reallllly started feeling terrible. I had chills and thought, weird. I rarely ever do that so I better check it out. By the end of the day, my fever had come full on. I left ASAP, and I tested positive for the Rona the following day...right after Rodney did the day before. I contacted my boss, who said what I hoped to be true when he said maybe this would be my third thing. 

We got my mom out of here as fast as possible in a way that would protect her and others who are near her. (Please pray it continues to stay at bay. ) We went about the business of feeling like crap, fighting fevers and pain so bad I actually screamed. I'm a pretty tough cookie so it wasn't fun. I would get up and eat something, drink fluids, take meds, and sleep again, occasionally answering a text or two. 

Then a couple of nights later, I got a message from one of my oldest, dearest friends. It was most definitely by the grace of God that I even woke up and had a coherent conversation. When we were in high school, we were a pretty tight circle of friends who were mostly related except me. Three of them were cousins, and they had amazing family that let me be a part of their world. Michelle and John both took me to meet, then later visit with Uncle Terry, Aunt Lynn, and my bestest buddy in the world, Sir Brad. Some of my very best memories from that time in my life involved them-even without Michelle and John. Sometimes it was just us and a hot tub and a wish-ha! (IYKYK)

I married my ex in 1997, and it wasn't too long after that I found myself in that little church at a funeral I wasn't prepared to attend when Brad went to be with the Lord. He was Uncle Terry and Aunt Lynn's world, and I remember thinking it was one of the crappiest things because he was joy and light all of the time, mixed with a little bit of spit fire. I guess, in retrospect, he was a lot like Lynn because that's how I always saw her. 

For a while, I got to see her a decent amount. As the years went by that happened less, but any time I got a message, sent a message, ran into her, etc., it was like time had stood still and nothing changed. She was still all of those things. Every time I asked John about her, it was kinda the same. She and Uncle Terry were amazing parents and an amazing couple. 

So when John got in touch with me, I was certainly not expecting to hear that Aunt Lynn had passed away. It was Covid, and it was fast. Shocked doesn't adequately describe how I felt so I could only imagine what they were all feeling. 

I would give anything if that Monday was "my third" rather than this. It's made me think about the last few months. I guess it's all about perception because there have been so many things. Each time I think that surely we, and those we know and love, are going to have a break, then something unexpected and hard happens. When my daddy died, we were dealing with his funeral and found out that one of our childhood adopted grandmother's passed away as well. Mae Todd was a beautiful soul who made our childhood a little more special. It wasn't too long before Pop that we learned of Dennis Smith, another childhood memory-SUCH an amazing, fun dad who was taken unexpectedly due to Covid. There are more friends who have lost loved ones while others are going through a different kind of tragedy as their lives are upended in different ways. Throw in the state of our nation, and we are so far beyond the threes. I think we put things in different places in our brains so that we can deal with them all. 

Here's the thing: I keep having to remind myself that this is no surprise to the Father. It is to me, but it never is to Him. My life's verse is Matt. 11:28-30. You'd think that would be enough to keep my thoughts in check, and better yet...my exhaustion in check. He wants to carry it if we but let Him. 

So I'm giving it as a gift to you all. Take the verse. Give the burdens. 

Matthew 11: 28-30 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Here's a link to Danny's obituary. Please considered contributing to the Go Fund Me for his kids' college fund. Obituary for Daniel Scott D'Armond | Currie-Jefferson Funeral Home

Her Life and How She Helped Save Mine

On September 21, 2018 my aunt passed away. I didn't post anything about it because I just wanted some time to process it all. It had only been 28 days since MawMaw passed away. To be honest, it didn't feel like it had been very long since Nannie Johnson, Uncle Jerry, and Ms. Jeanne passed away either, but they have been gone since last year. I find myself missing them all for so many different reasons, but most of all I miss what they represented in my life. Death and the passing of time. Both inevitable, but I feel as though together they tend to wash over the reality of the human experience. I don't even know if that really makes any sense or not. I'm just swirling things around in my brain. When I was younger, I saw things in black or white and never stopped to think that most things aren't that cut and dry. I looked at people as either good or bad, and it was beyond my innocence that someone I loved so much could ever make mistakes and hurt or disappoint me. That's not really true at all, and the only way to understand that is through difficult experiences. This brings me to her. I honestly don't remember much about her from when I was really young. I can recall moments like when she and her husband came to visit my grandparents and all of the family making their way to see her since she was in town. I remember her interest in some of the old places around Holly Pond. I have vague recollections of a story being told in which she sat on a car and refused to move off of it because a family member said don't let them take it. Maybe I have that all wrong. Time tends to distort things. I heard tale of a time when she surprised her sisters with a pretty fancy trip to NOLA, funded by her innate stubbornness. As I grew up and became a little more aware of the inner workings of family, I didn't much care for the things I heard. I didn't want to believe that she was as cutting as was reported. Nor did I care to acknowledge the times that she was so bound and determine to to "win" at something that she would behave terribly in the process. I couldn't reconcile all of those images into one person. I didn't really understand her, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of her. I kept a little distance, until I didn't. Again, I don't remember the exact moment that things changed between us, but I'm pretty sure it was when she realized that something had changed in me. It wasn't a particularly good thing either. When people you trust hurt you, it is dang near impossible to trust again but by the grace of God. I wasn't really thinking about that at the time. Growing up there was a big discrepancy between who I was and who people thought I was (with a few exceptions). Most people saw me as a much more confident person, completely able to fit in and handle whatever. That couldn't be farther from the truth. I never felt okay or like I fit in. I always felt like an outsider, and I'm sure that the majority of it is my own fault; however, to a teenager your perspective is really all that matters because it's the lens through which you see life. Multiple things happened that I wouldn't want anyone to have to experience, and I became a pretty angry person lashing out a good bit. I mean, I covered it pretty well most of the time but found myself making some choices that weren't exactly beneficial to my life. It's kind of like I needed to prove I was tough and independent and unafraid and whole when it was really the opposite. I found myself trying to fill up a hole that I could never begin to finish. Sometimes I would catch her watching me when I said or did crazy things. It made me feel strangely uncomfortable and safe at the same time. She began inserting herself into my life in random ways. It was sometimes a walk around the homestead while other times it was a run to the store. In particular, there was this one time where I somehow ended up taking her to the airport to fly back home. She asked me then if I would come to Pasadena to visit. I did. I began a series of trips to see her. Even when she was still married, she managed to make time for just us. More than anything else, she listened. She would occasionally say something simple, timely, and right to the heart of the matter. However, she never made accusations or judgments. She called out some things that I didn't want to see, but she made me face them. I was in a bad place even more so than I was willing to admit. She saw right through me, and she kept loving me anyway. When there wasn't anybody in the world who knew everything there was to know, she did. When I needed someone to just listen, she did. When I asked for time alone, she knew I needed it so she gave it. But she didn't let me go. She sent cards, called me, and allowed me to spend a lot of time with her. Years later I would have to see a side of her that I didn't exactly want to see, and it was when I was going through my divorce. She said a couple of things that cut me, and I think it was because I had never felt judged by her until that moment. It was hard for me to deal with it, but that's when I realized that people are a mixed bag. If you wait on perfection from anyone, you will find yourself in a very lonely place. I could choose to remember the difficult moments, but what good would that do? When I needed saving from the human perspective, God put her there for a reason, and I am so thankful He did. I am forever grateful and always a little emptier because she's no longer with us.