Dear Mothers
This morning I woke up singing a song that Jason (Chrissy's boyfriend) had played on the piano. It is a song to Jesus, a very simple love song. I thought, "Well, at least I wont be waking Papa up." Christian Joy heard me from the upstairs bedroom and I know I woke her. She ran down the stairs and listened at my bedroom door. I think she thought I was crying. Bless her heart!
Anyway, we played a lot of music yesterday. Homemade music. Dan made a -- well, I would call it an Appalachian cello. You make it with a washtub, a broom handle, and a clothes line rope. He made one and played it like a cello. I played a spoon on an old washboard. Jason played the piano and David the guitar. We also had an old time harmonica we played. Jason said that I played the washboard really well. Maybe he was kidding, I don't know. Of course, it's in me, ya know, that mountain music.
Folks came in and out all day yesterday. We have food galore here but I never have time to set the table.
Mary Elisabeth is a flurry of plans for the Memorial. I think the funeral website says it will be held here at our home. But we have rented a hall for this as our home is too small. I will tell Mary to change it on the internet. Many people, I think, are coming.
So many friends are bringing food. So many have given money -- thanks to all who have.
We all joke that Mary should get a job as a funeral director. She runs about with her notebook and pen, making all the arrangements. All I am good for is to sing and sit and wonder what I will do next. Mary and I talked last night. I told her I would have to get a job. "Oh, Mom, no what will you do? I don't want my mom to work. You have never worked outside the home." I said that I would do housekeeping for someone or babysit. My house was such a mess when Chrissy got here. So Mary says to me, "Now, Mom, we know you can't keep house, so don't try that -- you would get fired!" Mary says, "Mom, I don't want you out cleaning someone else's house. We kids will take care of you." But, of course, my kids have their own lives and I will find a way to make an income.
I want my kids to have a fighting chance to care for their own families. I want to continue to encourage them and help them if I can. I am a bit weak now but I will rise again. I will get back up. Of course, Papa and my writings about him and his babies will always come first. He is my first and only husband and I will do him good for the rest of my life.
Jill came over yesterday. Aunt Toot and Ruth. Good friends who have been close to me for years. They are jewels, priceless jewels. Lots of young people come by to pay their respects. They knew Jim loved them and wanted good for them.
It's such a bittersweet time. Toot says that now I will show my readers how to get through being a widow. You get through it all honestly and with reverence toward your husband. I sat yesterday with a blanket in Jim's chair. I guess I could feel his comfort there.
Christian Joy has been cleaning the house like a mad dog. Well, I barely kept up with going to the hospital every day. And Jim was sick before that, too. I am embarrassed that I haven't kept things up as I should have. But I know the Lord has a plan in all of this.
Today Jim's sister Mona will come and wants to help with the Memorial. The website is www.murdochfuneralhome.com under Obituaries. Mary did a good job on this and put a nice picture of Jim in the newspaper. Then yesterday, she went through albums of pictures looking for good ones of Jim. She has stacks of them and says she wants to go through them again. I said, "Mary, you can't use that many pictures." She said she plans to put all the ones of her dad in an album after the Memorial.
Oh, so many pictures and, of course, the rest of us are in them, too. "Every picture, Dad is holding one of us kids or a grand baby," Mary tells me. One time, Jim fell asleep on the couch and, as a child, Mary laid her doll in his arms. She then took a picture of him like that. "Boy, he was mad, wasn't he Mom? " I said, "Yes, he was." But my kids love to laugh and play tricks and I love them all for that.
Our home is joyful with an undercurrent of heartache. As I looked at all the pictures Mary was trying to show me, I saw Jim as a young man. See, he was always young to me. Always handsome, even at 65 years old. I always felt that, as long as I had Wild Man by my side, I would make it. But as I looked at the pictures, I could realize that, "Ya know, it was just time for Jim to go. He was tired, really tired." And I thank the Lord that he is not suffering now.
It was the last act and the curtain fell for the last time. We had fought the devil and won countless times. We lived on the edge, right up until the music stopped. I believed God until I couldn't raise Jim from the dead. He had been through about four Code Blues and certainly came back to life again and again. Some were Code Blues and some were almost. But I have a peace and I know now that Jim is in heaven holding our Baby Chloe Faye. Of course, where else would Papa be?
Christian Joy and Mary and I have all felt Jim's presence, telling us that he wants us to go on in peace. That he is ok and we don't need to worry about him. Danny, the youngest of the boys, is so broken. David is, too, and John. I hope they have felt Jim's presence, too.
Jimmy, our oldest son, is yet to break. He will be in Tuesday, as his wife is in Canada and he is waiting for her to get back. (My oldest children travel all over the world.) Jimmy seems almost afraid to come home. I know he is worried about me. He tries to get me to joke on the phone like old times. But I can't just yet. He wants me to tell him all is well as I did when he was a little guy. But I won't just yet. No, not yet.
I am so happy, though, that Jim is ok and in a better place.
"Wild Man, if this email has gone to heaven, then I just want to say we are all ok. We are glad that you aren't suffering anymore. The kids all grieve for you. We miss you, Baby. Oh, Baby, I miss you. But I am goin' on. Jill says that I have an independent spirit and I will be ok. We gave it our best shot, didn't we, Dad? We gave it all we had. And it must have been God's will for you to go. I know Satan couldn't have won out. I believed God to the end and I know you did, too. So, good-night, Baby. I love you. I will see you soon. Meet me over by the river of life, over by the shore. I love you and I will miss you every day. I am ok and I will be ok. All is well, Darling, all is well."
Love,
Connie
NOTE: Jim Hultquist's obituary provides a link to a Guestbook where you can leave your condolences for the Hultquist family.
