Scent of a Woman

Went to my Dad's house today.

Sat on the sofa, and could instantly smell my Mum....

She had been sleeping on the sofa so she wouldn't accidentally turn onto her left side where her tumor was because it was so painful.

Instantly hit me.

I had had a good morning, despite waking with a mild migraine. 'What is a "mild" migraine' you may ask?.. If I can rate my pain level below a 7, and I don't vomit, I count it as mild.

God brought a friend's pregnancy to mind this morning, and I was truly able to rejoice over this upcoming blessing.

He then brought my pastor and the church secretary, both of which I love, to mind. I felt he wanted me to pray for their day.

I then began thinking about Psalm 23, and the way in which I had heard it preached on about 10 years ago. Psalm 23:

Though I walk through (you're walking through, not staying for the duration) the valley (you can't have a valley without a mountain top) of the shadow (you can't have shadow without the great Light) of death (there is no death without abundant life with Christ Jesus) I shall fear (no fear without the peace that passes all understanding) no evil (no evil without the Holy One who conquers evil).

I felt God's love and comfort and felt the best I had in days.

Then, the sofa... Although her scent reduced me to tears with my poor Dad holding me, there was still something comforting. There was a reassurance. A reassurance that I will never forget her. Her laugh. The silly expression on her face when we'd be making a joke that went right over her head. The habit she had of clicking her nails. The image of her dancing, all in the shoulders. The image of her standing at the stove stirring gravy (she made the best gravy!!!). The way she always wanted to have her arm around me or hold my hand if I was sitting next to her (what I wouldn't give for one more hug!!!). And yes.. her scent.

It seems that now, approaching 3 weeks after her death, that the Lord is bringing me to a place where along with mourning her, I can also take delight in my memories of her.

(This is the last photo I took of my Mum, 5 days before she died. This is Billy's little hand atop hers.)