I'm Gonna Love You Forever

Two rights don't make a wrong. That recently invented phrase of mine has been bouncing around my brain for about a week now. I knew it had to be the title of a blog post but I wasn't sure how to put it. What was the blog supposed to be about exactly? Where was my focus and, more importantly, what is it that I want you, my favorite reader, to take from a such a post? I don't write my blog solely for me (although at times it sure feels like it). So if I am to subject you to another of my musings what thought is it that I want you to ponder upon completion of this tome?

Anyone who has known me these past few years or more knows how much I love my Wanda and My Beth. And, yes, I did use the present tense of the word rather than the past. I will always love my family. They were so right for me. A perfect fit. Well, it became a perfect fit after we whittled away a few rough edges. Mine more than theirs. Then came the days when all that was right went wrong. I had my Mrs. Right and we had our perfect daughter. So when I lost them I lost all that was right in my world. 

And then came my new forever. 

I have again been blessed with a Mrs. Right. Well, a soon to be Mrs. Right. And she is blessing me with the opportunity to have two children to call family. So I have been doubly blessed in regards to daughters, or step-daughters if you must. I'm thankful that the girls have a father that still cares for them and I'm very thankful he feels comfortable with my being their step-father. These beautiful girls are the pretty ribbon on this incredible package the Lord has chosen to send me again.  

How is it that you know when you've found the one again? I cannot speak for you. I knew it quickly. But I also remember the night that I turned the corner. While I know that I will forever love my first love, an event that occurred the other evening let me know that my heart will never be the same. You see, I have professed my love to my new forever. I have asked her to marry me and received the response I was hoping for. But I think there was a little concern that she would be compared to the first Mrs. Right. And the other night I guess I did. But in a good way. 

When you lose someone you love it is like a part of you has been amputated. You reach for the limb that once was there only to be reminded that it isn't. And you still feel the ghosts pains of what was once there. But I have to believe (but I haven't asked so I don't know for sure) that there has to be a time when a prosthetic limb becomes so natural that you don't long for what was but focus instead on what is. And you find that you function quite well with the prosthesis. It has become a part of you. 

For almost two years I would climb in my bed and, out of habit, reach my foot over to find my first love. At times, and I remember this very vividly, my arms would literally ache to be holding her. Earlier this week I climbed in bed and felt that same ache. But this time was different. This time they ached to be holding the new forever. And, although we have yet to spend that night together where that feeling can become a reality, we are getting so much closer. 

My new forever no longer feels like a prosthesis. I can't say she ever really did. She brings me the joy that God gave her to bring me. She lights up my world in completely different ways. She has shown me a future that is full of opportunity. She has become someone to share in my faith and to serve with. I have learned so much from her and look forward to seeing what we can get accomplished together. 

But I have determined that she is no longer my new forever. Instead she will just be my forever. And I like that. 

Our house, is a very very fine house

I'm sorry to say that I sat under the leadership of one pastor for a year and the one thing that I can remember him saying that stuck out more than anything was this: "There are three things I hate in this life and moving is all three of them!"

Anytime you move there are emotions. And the longer you remain in one place the more difficult. The very walls of the house seem to absorb the memories that occurred there. Each trinket you pack up, picture you take down from the wall, piece of paper with crayon writing on it can move you to smiles and quickly to tears. 

This old house of mine holds many memories. Mostly good. Two of which were very bad. So moving for me is very bad and very good at the same time. Moving gives me a chance to start afresh. To take the wonderful lessons I learned about being a husband and a father, learn from them, and then try to be an even better husband and better (step)dad than I was before. 

Over the past month I have been working on getting my home ready to go on the market. According to the realtor there are some things I need to do to make the house easier to sell. One of those things is to de-personalize the house. In other words, turn what once was a home into a house so that someone else can turn it into their home. 

When anyone moves there is a certain emotional equity you will lose. You will not get all of that equity back out of your house when you leave. Memories of lying on the trampoline with my daughter looking up at the stars are merely memories never again to be repeated. Bed time prayers, devotional and Bible reading time are but a distant but deep seated memory. The bed is now bare. No pink comforter to fall asleep on while reading her The Hobbit. No sound of the gerbil running for eternity on the spinning wheel. Those have been memories that I would pick up and look at occasionally and place them right back where I found them. Now "where I found them" is gone. 

To say this has been emotional for me is akin to calling Niagara Fall s hill the local creek rolls over. Memories are shaken loose from where they had settled among my daughters clothes, her books, her stuffed animals. Like the gentle stirring of dust lying on undisturbed trinkets upon her shelf, some memories dance in the sunlight with the motes. Still others bring on a thunderstorm. Others offer to help only to find the motes dancing across their faces and activating allergies. How else can you explain the sudden well of tears in the eyes. 

Slowly I have packed up the memories. Some have been given away. Others placed in storage boxes for me to go through at a later time. Many have gone to new homes where I pray they will bring joy.

Alas, the emotions for this part of her world are not tied to her room alone as her presence is seen and felt throughout every room in the house. So as I go through the guest room where she stored her games in the closet and the study where she did school, as I move furniture from the room that has seen less living than ever before, while I pack away dishes and even sippy cups, and as I venture into the playroom where she entertained evening interlopers at slumber parties, there will continue to be memories. All of this on the heels of a second anniversary I never wanted to celebrate. 

I can get through this. It is for a worthy cause. You see, with every memory that brings on tears there is also a new memory to be made with my New Forever and her girls. They have brought new meaning to my life. The past looked bright with the memories. The future is beautifully illuminated with potential.

My first team did wonders at spreading joy and love wherever they went. Satan tried to put an end to the joy. But what Satan intended for evil God intends for good. My second team has taken the torch and has run with it all for the glory of God. 

I thank God everyday for the memories. And I thank him for the memories to come.  Because looking back on the past can be fun. But looking at where I'm going brings so much joy to my life. And it's a joy my first forevers have been longing for. For a long time for me.