Mom is still everywhere...

     My dad brought his girlfriend to Christmas this year.  It's the second Christmas without Mom.  It was the first time he brought her to a function where the whole family was present and the first time she has met some of the family members.  

    She is precious.  Warm, friendly, engaging, funny, genuine, kind.  Everyone warmed right up to her and welcomed her.  She brought homemade banana pudding and a white elephant gift to play dirty santa with us.  She laughed at our banter and our jokes until her face hurt.  She thoroughly enjoyed herself.  She complimented Regan on her home and her tree.  She asked genuine questions and showed interest.  We like her.  

    When they got around to leave, I remembered her pudding and offered to retrieve it from the fridge.  She asked if we would eat it and I said of course.  I told her we would get her pan back to Dad for her.  She waved me off, saying the pan was Dad's.  Of course it was... I hadn't recognized it at first, but it's Mom's deviled egg pan.  Oh, Mom.  She's everywhere.  Everywhere.  

    My girls and I went shopping together after Christmas.  Every piece of clothing I had on was Mom's:  my jeans, shirt, sweater... my purse.  Many of the items Dad's girlfriend complimented Regan on in her house were Mom's or given to Regan from Mom.  Regan graciously just said "Thank you."

    My sister-in-law was in a drive-thru recently, behind another car.  She recognized the tag on the car as Mom's tag number.  (I wouldn't have recognized it.)  She was startled to see it.  Shocked.  She saw a slim hand reach for the order from the drive up window.  It's was Dad's girlfriend in her new car.  Dad put the plate on it, which makes complete sense.  Everywhere.

    My niece is writing the grandparent paper on Mom for school.  My three girls chose their other three grandparents and Mom was the only one not documented.  In January before she died, I told her that I wanted to write one on her-- that made her very happy.  I spent two different days with her going over all of her life as I wrote down all the notes and tried to make it clear enough where I could decipher it later because I KNEW I wouldn't be writing it anytime soon.  I couldn't.  When my niece asked me about it, I told her that I had her covered, but now I had to find the notes. They were in the third box I looked in in storage.  Thankfully.  I took the envelope to the house and poured over the notes.  

    My mom absolutely loved her grandmother Hazelle and warmly tells about the best days of her childhood which were all tied to her grandma Hazelle.  Hazelle.  Regan is due any day-- she had contractions yesterday and more today.  I plan to carry out the legacy of Grandma Mother, my great-grandma Hazelle.  I plan to be the grandma my mom loved.  Hazelle was friendly, kind, warm, welcoming.  We loved Grandma Hazelle, and I cannot wait to be a grandma to my granddaughter, Hazelle.

    Mom is still everywhere.  And I'm glad.  My dad has a girlfriend.  And I am truly glad.  God is so good and He gives us what we need.  I am so thankful.

Praying Friends

With everything that happened in 2021, Rosalind and I were at a loss when trying to craft a Christmas letter.  At one point in the letter she says, "As I sat down to write this letter, I spent more time staring at my keyboard than I did typing."  I agree.  I did the same.  At least she actually banged out a rough draft, a place to start.

One thing that she left out of the letter was her future.  She just didn't want to spend any energy on sharing that heartache.  Would she be Rosalind White, LPN or Rosalind White, BSN-RN?  This was unknown even as late as January 11, 2022, just one week ago.  She is a senior nursing student at SWOSU, the number one nursing school in the state of Oklahoma.  Her graduation date is May 2022.  But would she be able to finish?  Would she be able to finish without taking a Covid vaccination-- that was the question.

Our governor signed a piece of legislation in the summer that exempted all students from pre-K through higher education from masks and Covid vaccines, but he exempted the university medical students from this freedom.  My girls work in hospitals.  They can work in a hospital without a vaccination, but they cannot attend school and actually graduate, earning a degree to work in one without a vaccination.  No logic.  None.

In July after the first round of vaccination requirement emails were sent to nursing students from the nursing department, I contacted some of my friends and family who I knew would stand with us in prayer for this to resolve in a timely manner, making a path for her to graduate with her BSN. We didn't tell very many people and didn't talk about it freely.  We were just mentally dealing with this ourselves, even mourning it to some degree.  I cannot thank my praying friends enough. 

Rosalind's professors encouraged her to enroll for the spring semester even though they couldn't give her any clear answers: not even any definite answers to what their actual policies are nor any promises that she would be able to finish unvaccinated.  Sparing you all the boring (frustrating) details, the solution finally came.  There are three senior nursing students out of about 60, who are refusing the vaccination.  The school and the hospital (where clinicals are required), neither of them wanted to be liable for these students' exemptions. (The school wasn't requiring the shot so it wouldn't validate an exemption and the students aren't employees of the hospital so it wouldn't validate an exemption.)  After much back and forth, these institutions came to an agreement in the form of a document that needed to be signed, but no one in the nursing department would sign it.  Previously I had tried to reach out to my state representatives for help, to no avail.  Thankfully, one of the other seniors lives in a different district in Oklahoma whose representative was 100% willing to engage and find answers.  Praise the Lord!  This legislator equipped the senior with all the specific information needed and then even which official to find at SWOSU who could sign this document.  The students finally got the document signed.

What does this mean?  At this point it means that they can attend all clinicals that are requirements for graduation.  Rosalind White, BSN:  May 2022.  RN to follow after the boards are passed in June.

I cannot even explain to you the level of frustration felt at being at the mercy of someone else's fear.  The thought of spending 7 semesters and not being able to finish the last semester was harrowing.  All the time, the debt, the dreams... it was heavy.  There wasn't an acceptable plan B.  Even with God carrying the majority of the mess, it was still cumbersome at times.  So, I say again, praise the Lord! And, a heartfelt thank you to praying friends who stood with us and helped carry this burden.  You helped make this happen. And, for that, we are grateful.

So little time to cope with the changes

I cannot even begin to express how quickly everything is changing.  This is not what one would call rolling with the changes, this would be considered flailing in the ocean at high tide, all while seeming mostly normal on the outside.  This is another one of the busiest times of my entire life, (the third one but probably the busiest) but this time it's packed with all these emotional markers that are, on their own, monumental.  I'm not a person who easily becomes overwhelmed, but this... this past 4 months has been just that-- overwhelming.  With everything being overwhelming, it makes everything else overwhelming.  Do you follow?  If not, nevermind; I obviously cannot put it into words tonight.

My normal yearly routine has pressure-cooker weeks in it because I'm a teacher in a small school that doesn't know it's small and tries to conquer the world sometimes, which takes every ounce of energy, every gift and talent, and every spare moment to pull it off.  Throw in preparations for Rosalind's spring wedding, Regan's graduation celebration with a BSN pinning, the upcoming 2021 high school graduation as the sponsor and one who will speak at graduation and plan and attend (most of) the senior trip, and another wedding (including the wedding cake) at Tulsa, plus one more highly emotional funeral this week... I'm not done... in addition to my mom's in February and the father of one of my seniors in March-- very unexpected... (I'm going to breathe right here)

The German Feast was moved to April from February this year due to fear of what C-19 restrictions might do to the attendance; this helped tremendously when my focus was on caring for Mom and I didn't have to spend the energy in February to spare.  I didn't really have the energy for it last week either with two days of schnetka baking and one day of silent auction set up or for the evening we spent going through all of my mom's personal belongings after the feast.  My dad is moving.  This week he will close on a new house in the country, outside of a neighboring town.  A house without Mom or mom's things.  A house outside of our hometown for the past 37 years.  I don't blame him. Everything is happening so fast, and I feel like I'm being robbed of the time to be able to process all of it as it needs to be.  It's not about me.  There's no blame; it's just overwhelming.  

I also spent 12 hours on the road, back and forth to the dentist, last week and had another molar pulled.  If you see me eating like a rabbit or a beaver, mind your own business.  And if you notice me dropping weight, don't say anything.

Did I mention that the house Mom loved so well and that we all considered home was demolished last week?  I haven't even driven by it yet.  It was two-twenty-two North Oklahoma Street.  Mom died on 2-22.  Weird.  It became an eyesore in recent years as each new tenant stripped it of its splendor.  Mom and Dad discussed at length buying it back and renovating.  Some things cannot be restored, not to mirror the nostalgia of our memories.  Who would renovate a house with 1980s decor and fixtures? Dusty blue carpet and mirror stripes on the walls, faintly resembling paneling with their width and spacing.  Renovated to fit the times, it wouldn't have been the same, so a handful of pictures and our fallible memories is all we have to remember some of the best days of our lives.

This week I'm working on our spring banquet at school, which equals prom at public schools.  The student council kids and I spent 5 hours today getting a lot of the big jobs done without the interruption of a school day to make the rest of this week go a little easier.  This is another crazy week at school with a couple days of standardized testing for 7-10 grades.  The seniors are overwhelmed with their term papers and just the last-month-of-school emotions that are bombarding them at every turn.  Another funeral on Thursday for my brother's mother-in-law.  Yes, my brother and my sister-in-law both lost their mothers this winter-- in two month's time.  Mary died on December 22, but due to C-19, the family waited until this week for a service.  As much as I'm grieving my losses this winter, my heart breaks for both of them and my nieces who lost both grandmothers.  I am thankful we all live here close and can lean on each other and support one another through the heartbreak of all of this loss.  I'll close out this week with the banquet on Saturday (complete with our getting all dressed up in our 2019 wedding clothes), and we'll have it all cleaned up and put away next week before the next big thing-- a wedding!  Some of my best friends have a daughter getting married!

There's so many other overwhelming little things that have happened in all the in-between moments (mostly good and mostly when people are being nice to me) over the past 4 months that make me break down and weep too, (like our 25th wedding anniversary and Regan and Hayden's buying a house, a wedding shower for Roz and Kelby, like the girl in the dentist's office telling me that something I said reminded her of her grandfather who passed, etc) but all the details get to be to tedious for many, and if you're still reading, you're a saint or you truly love me.  (Or you're just really bored)  I think the biggest hurdles will be behind me by the end of this week,  but the moving forward through all of these upcoming milestones without my mom, my girls' grandma, will be another challenge in the days to come.  

Did I mention that Rayne is moving home in a couple of weeks?  I think she's bringing a college friend home for the summer too.  That will definitely do this mama's heart some good.  The more, the merrier.  I love my home and my people, and our dogs and their dogs, and... and... and you get the idea.  I'm looking forward to a slower summer and a few moments to breathe.

A video tribute to Mom

 

Eulogizing my mom— such an honor

Colleen was a private person.  She didn’t complain; instead, she would fix it.  She always tried to make things better for the people, animals, or organizations that she cared about.  Sometimes she would go overboard if it meant that she could fill a need by purchasing something.  She found joy in providing items that others needed or wanted.  She loved the CBA plays and loved helping Roshelle pull together props or costumes for them.  As the Wherritt girls grew and were faced with new adventures and new household needs, school needs, or personal needs, they always found themselves saying “we need a . . .” fill in the blank, and they would always end it with “Grandma probably has it—call Grandma.”  She also liked helping others anonymously. If a need was brought to her attention, especially around the holidays, she would figure out a way to supply it.  She’s been there. . .  on the giving side and on the needing side.

 

Because Colleen was such a private person, many of you probably don’t know how much she enjoyed working in her yard or taking care of the swimming pool.  She always welcomed her kids and granddaughters and their friends over to her backyard to swim or cookout—especially Rita and the girls, because if they stayed long enough, Wayne would show up, too, and grill supper for everyone.  You also probably don’t know about her love for animals.  She wanted every animal to have a home or someone to care for it.  Some of you in here are probably recipients of stray animals that she knew needed rescuing.  She always fed the strays and made a warm home for them.  During her illness, Denny continued to feed the stray cats and the resident opossum.  She loved her horses and her house cats and spoiled them.  The running joke with the family is that if they died, they wanted to come back as Colleen’s house cat.  Her cats loved her too.  Girl, her smallest calico, would spend all of her time on the hospital bed in the living room with Colleen, even until the very end.

 

I could stand here and tell you that Colleen was a polished, sharp dressed woman or that she had good taste in furnishings and décor.  I could tell you that she loved the holidays and loved her family.  I could tell you that she was determined and opinionated and liked to learn and discuss topics or events, but you know all of that.  The most important thing that I can tell you about Colleen happened just 4 years ago.  She asked and the Holy Spirit came into her life and everything changed.  The things that she used to spend her time doing weren’t as important to her anymore. She was hungry for knowledge.  Different knowledge this time. She was hungry for Jesus.  She read the Bible, books about the Bible and took notes; she started listening to preachers online and watching sermons and studying basically everything she could get her hands on, and it all started making sense.

 

Colleen told Roshelle in January: “I’m amazed at how the Bible is everything ever that did happen and ever will happen and there’s nothing new.  It’s all in this book [the Bible] if you can put it together properly.”

 

Colleen has always been a reader and a learner. Even in her last weeks when reading and learning and even lengthy conversation wasn’t really possible, she would say to the kids, “talk to me.” She still wanted to learn.  Wayne would read through headlines he knew she would be interested in.  Roshelle started searching for everything she could find about heaven and had been listening to Dr. Dixie Yoder’s videos about heaven.  She shared with her mom what she had learned: in heaven we will still be learning the greater knowledge that we seek, but it’s much easier to do so because it’s easier to learn, to remember, and to understand.  Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 13 that our learning will be fuller and more intensive—we will be not be making assumption or learning errors.  It will all be truth and it will be clear.  We won’t become omniscient like God and have all the answers when we get to heaven, like the world seems to believe, but we will continue to learn and study God’s truths.  This made Colleen very happy and gave her more peace.

 

Right now, Colleen, as a child of God, has the ability to sit at the feet of Jesus and just soak up his presence and his truth.  She is still learning.

Mom's obituary

 

Colleen Ridenour was born to Ding (Wilbur) and Dee Dee (Corinne) Krull on March 8, 1955, in Austin, Minnesota.  Colleen passed to the peace of the Lord on February 22, 2021, in her home at Thomas, Oklahoma, after a short but difficult battle with cancer.  

Colleen grew up in Southeast Minnesota, where she met the love of her life at 16 years of age and thereafter married Denny (Dennis) Ridenour in a small ceremony in Springfield, Missouri, on June 17, 1972.  Denny and Colleen initially made their home in Missouri and then returned to Minnesota before moving to Oklahoma in 1984.

In Oklahoma, Colleen attended realty school with her mom and became a realtor in Weatherford, until she retired about 10 years ago.  Colleen attended Southwestern Oklahoma State University in the 90s and earned her master's degree in Psychology, graduating in 1996.

Colleen is survived by her husband, Denny; her daughter Roshelle Wherritt and her husband Rodney; her son Wayne and his wife Rita; and 6 granddaughters, Regan Lemieux and her husband Hayden, Rosalind Wherritt, Rayne Wherritt, Ali Ridenour, Taylor Ridenour, and Shelby Ridenour, all of Thomas.  She is survived by her brother Wayne Krull and his wife Marsha of Thomas; her sister Karen Clapham and her husband Bill of Dubuque, Iowa; her sister Lisa Goucher and her husband Steve of Rockwell, Texas; and her step-father Richard Gieser of Thomas.  Colleen was preceded in death by her parents and brother John Krull.

Memorials may be made to Corn Bible Academy.

My heart is broken

My mom is dying and my heart is broken.  I can't stop it.  I can't fix it.  There is no piece of it that I can control except the portion that I am given.  I do all that I can but it doesn't feel like enough.  I rack my brain trying to find a way to stop the pain.  I just want to sweep all 100 pounds of her up into my arms and hold her close and comfort her and tell her that it's ok.  It's ok if she's tired.  It's ok if she just can't do it anymore.  I want to stroke her hair and rock her and tell her it's ok to go to sleep.

Stage IV lung cancer that's metastasized into her lymph system, spreading into her gall bladder, adrenals, and most likely liver and kidneys: that's the battle.

I pray daily for a miracle to heal her or for God to take His child home.  She's weary.

So.  Much.  Wasted.  Time. 

She lives 20 blocks away.  She's 65 years old.  She push mows her yard, for goodness sake!  There's plenty of time.  A couple short weeks ago, I held her in my arms and apologized for all the wasted time.  She just smiled through her tears and reassured me:  we all thought we had more time.

Some days I feel like Hezekiah in Isaiah 37, taking the letter he received (full of bad news) and marching to the alter and laying it out before God, crying "Look at this!"  Now, "Do something about it!"  

Other days I just weep.  

Some days I am all out of tears.  Mourning the living is something I've never experienced before now.  It comes in waves and some days I'm drownding.  Some days I find it too hard to engage in the tedious details of my work.  Grading term papers is definitely going to have to wait for awhile; I'm thankful it's play season because it's a new creation, bringing new life into my soul.

The love that radiates from those who love me makes me weep too.  Their prayers sustain me right now.  My husband, my children, my sisters-in-law, my aunts, my extended family.  In the other hand is my co-workers, my dear friends, and my students and their families.  My cup overflows from the grace and the love and gentle care that comes from their actions, words and their prayers.  I am truly loved, and that love is what's holding my broken heart together right now.  The only thing that could heal it is a miracle from heaven.