She’s Got A Way

 Your mother gives birth to you twice—once when  you’re born and once when she dies. – Rufus Wainwright

I would be remiss if I did not put some sort of ramblings about the past year in a blog post, so here goes…

This blog has always been centered around my Mother.  I created it to recall things she taught and shared with me, and it sometimes seems that my life imitates this blog as well.  My Mother has been gone from this world almost 2 years, and yet there are days I feel like she is alive and with me now, more than ever.  One of my fears when she first passed away was that I would forget things. I was fearful my children would forget her.  Over the course of this past year, I have realized this is impossible.  We talk about her daily.  The children still thank God for her every night in their prayers, and memories are recalled through pictures, stories, songs, places we visit, and even the mundane schedules we keep every day.

2013 was a year filled with dance lessons, piano recitals, time spent with friends and family, laughter, tears, surgeries (reminding us our bodies are not getting any younger), new pets, BB guns, talks of girls with Will (gasp!) talks of boyfriends with Charlotte (triple gasp!), new teachers, new experiences, etc, etc, etc, etc.  And even though my Mother was not physically here to experience these things with us or on the other side of the phone with me laughing (or crying), she was still with me.

Since her physical death, she’s almost more present than she ever was before. I see her in everything. I see everything as so fleeting and so beautiful and so magical and  so unbelievably heartwrenching all at the same time.  Yes, this tends to bring the tears a little more often.  Yes, the people in my house love pointing that out, but I feel more alive now than I ever have, and just like so many things in my life, I attribute that to my Mother.

One of our favorite things to do over the Christmas break is watch the Kennedy Center Honors Performance.  It is typically a few days after Christmas when we need an emotional lift from the chaos of the holiday.  I loved all of the performances this year, but this particular one was my favorite, and of course, it was because it made me think of my Mother. Judy King will always have that way about her. . .

FRAGILE: Handle With Care

My husband and I were at a local restaurant last night and could not help but notice the family across the room from us.  It was very obvious the man at the table was a slave to some sort of drug and even at the moment, high from it.  All physical signs we are taught to look for as teachers pointed to drug abuse. I could not feel anything but sadness as I watched this man.  I just kept wondering what led him to his first “high” (assuming it was drug abuse).  The longer I live, the more I realize how broken WE ALL are.  My brokenness is no different than that man at the restaurant.  My brokenness just manifests itself in a different way. My brokenness may be easier to hide, but it is still there.

We are all fragile.  We are vulnerable.  ALL OF US.  We all suffer from broken hearts, dreams, and hopes at some point in our lives.  Hopefully, we are able to push ourselves again and be willing to hurt, heal, and then do it all over again.  When I am unable to push myself, I have been so fortunate to be guided by strong family members, teachers, church leaders, and friends.  I realize not everyone is as fortunate as I am.

As we begin another school year, I am certain I will face students who come from backgrounds so fragile, if I was placed in their situation, I would break in an instant.  My prayer is that judgment would never enter my mind.  My prayer is that everyone, especially myself, realizes that if we push each other, maybe we will break a little less with each struggle and become much stronger from the process.

This video using the song “Breakable” portrays broken images in an almost beautiful form.  I am so broken some days; I can hardly look at myself.  I wonder if God sees my brokenness as beauty.  I am certain He wants to heal our brokenness.  I am certain He uses others to aid in that process.  I am thankful for the people God has placed in my life to help my brokenness.  We are all fragile.  We are all broken.  Lord, please help us to remember our fragileness as we begin a new school year.

Somebody’s Prayin’

“Mighty hands are guiding me to protect me from what I can’t see. Lord, I believe somebody’s praying for me.” – John Elliott

I have thought a lot about the next memory I want to share. I keep going back to one of the last conversations Mother and I had. She knew her time was short. She simply looked at me and said “you have so many people who love you and who will take care of you.” In that moment I knew it gave her great comfort to think of all the people who would be there for me when she was no longer able.

Family bonds have grown closer than ever and friendships have remained true. One of my Mother’s favorite things to do was hear “her girls” sing. She referred to my 3 best friends as “her girls” because they were. They were her girls. All of our parents say that to this day, and I love it. I can’t begin to put into words the bond these girls and I have formed over the past 20 years while singing together. Our busy lives have kept us from singing like we used to, but our friendship has remained constant.

One of my most favorite songs the girls and I sing is an old Ricky Skaggs song called “Somebody’s Prayin”. It is country and not our typical genre. However, when we heard the words to this song, we all sat and cried and talked about how it was the perfect example of the way our parents prayed for us. We all come from strong legacies of faith, and we always knew our parents were praying for us. My Mother LOVED hearing us sing this song.

The girls at Old Market Square July 4th -circa 1995

There are still so many days I don’t have the words or desire to pray. I constantly cling to the message of this song. I still find so much comfort in knowing my parents prayed for me before I was even born. I still find comfort in knowing things are happening that I can’t see to protect me from harm because my parents prayed for that protection!

This video definitely shows its age, but the message will never change. Enjoy this little piece of our music past. And don’t get too excited…. this is NOT vintage Endless Praise.

Somebody’s Prayin’ Video – Ricky Skaggs live

And girls, if you are reading this, can we please sing soon?

The Sweetest Seat

One of the sweetest rewards of being a teacher is having your students teach you things in return. This blog post was written by one of my former students. I don’t even know how I stumbled upon it, but when I did, I realized she wrote it just for me! The wisdom in her words is powerful, and I am in awe of how she is being used at such a young age. I feel these words were just for me, but I also have a feeling more than just this 37 year old wife, mother, teacher, friend, etc. will need these words too. You are an inspiration, Emily. Thank you for letting me re-blog. – Amy

Simply Overflow

Dear reader,

Hello, my name is Emily (if we’ve never met before) and I’m overjoyed to be able to share this time with you. I’m going to ask two things of you before I start to write and you read this entire blog, 1. get comfortable 2. take your time. I ask those things because, like me, many of you will rush through reading this and miss the point of the entire blog. So, let’s take a few minutes and enjoy this time we have together!

“Wherever you are, be all there.” – Jim Elliot

The quote above has been my lock screen wallpaper on my iPhone for a few months until yesterday. There’s no significance to me changing it yesterday except for the fact I’m going to write about it today.

If you are like me, you will read something like that and think “yeah, well duh I am…

View original post 951 more words

Happy Birthday, Anyway.

” ‘Happy Birthday’ should be the first thing you hear when you wake up and the last thing you hear before you go to sleep.” – Judy King

Birthdays seem to be the perfect storm for me lately. I have never been a fan of things changing, new milestones, new chapters in my life, etc., and that is what every birthday brings with it. When you are small, these pains of “growing up” are masked by lots of presents and parties. Eventually, the façade ends, and you realize growing up is tough.

Will’s birthday was last week, and we had a blast celebrating his special day with family and friends. We did every cool thing in the world we could think of to make his weekend special. Finally, when the day was over, he went to bed with tears in his eyes. He looked at me and said, “It’s just not as fun as it used to be.” At first I was angry because I felt as if he was ungrateful for all we had done. Then I realized, my baby boy was growing up. He was realizing there is so much more to life than the “stuff” or the “presents”.

Wow. What a moment I will always remember. I explained to him how “things” do not give us joy. Then I explained to him about the day he was born and how much joy that experience gave us. I was so thankful for that grown up conversation with Will, but my heart was broken for him because I knew he had reached a new milestone in his life and could never go back.

My birthday is tomorrow, and I have found myself spiraling backwards in a sea of grief missing my Mother. Birthdays were the ultimate Judy King days. Birthdays embodied everything she believed in. It was a day where she could speak her love language and speak it loudly. She loved creating special memories through celebrations, especially on birthdays.

Just as I considered skipping Christmas this past year, I annnounced my desire to skip my birthday this year as well, not because I don’t want to get older but because I don’t want to go through it without my Mother. I realize she would be extremely opposed to this. I just can’t help but feel it. Then God woke me up in the middle of the night and let me read an email that gave me the answer I had been looking for about how to handle all of this.

A precious friend of mine gave me a book a few weeks ago called “Fearless”. This book is wonderful for those of us who love to worry about and control our situations. It confronts the things we are the most fearful of and gives great examples of how not to fear them. Faith is a huge part of that.

Fearless. It’s my new favorite word (as is my new, precious friend). The week after reading Fearless, my students watched a short video clip of one of my all-time favorite songs by Martina McBride, “Anyway”. God even used Martina that week to tell me to BE FEARLESS!
I immediately emailed my friend to tell her about the song and sent her the lyrics.

“Anyway”
You can spend your whole life buildin’
Somethin’ from nothin’
One storm can come and blow it all away
Build it anyway

You can chase a dream
That seems so out of reach
And you know it might not ever come your way
Dream it anyway

God is great, but sometimes life ain’t good
When I pray it doesn’t always turn out like I think it should
But I do it anyway
I do it anyway

This world’s gone crazy and it’s hard to believe
That tomorrow will be better than today
Believe it anyway
You can love someone with all your heart
For all the right reasons
And in a moment they can choose to walk away
love ’em anyway

You can pour your soul out singing
A song you believe in
That tomorrow they’ll forget you ever sang
Sing it anyway
Yeah, sing it anyway
I sing, I dream, I love
Anyway

Now here’s the best part of this story. I read Fearless back in April and sent my friend the lyrics to this song over a month ago. Being the caring friend that she is, she just knew I was dreading my birthday without Mother. She knew I was having a hard time. I’m not quite sure she knew I would be up at 2am this morning, but when I read her email at 2am, this is what I read…. “Happy Birthday, Anyway”  and that is EXACTLY what I needed to hear to make it through this weekend without Mother.

It may hurt. It may not. It may be the best day of my life. Who knows? I’ll never know if I fear it. So with eyes wide open and heart ready for whatever may come, bring on the birthday! We’re gonna celebrate anyway!

Thank you Tracey Jonakin, my fearless friend.

I Have Turned Into My Mother

Karma.  Payback.  Reaping what you sow.  What goes around, comes around. . .

I am sure my Mother is in heaven right now smiling (maybe even laughing) at me.  I have lost count of the numerous things I have done and said this week that were just like her. Many of those times I wanted to pick up the phone and call her to apologize for being so hard on her.  Decisions she made about my clothes, hair, our personal lives, privacy, etc. were brought to my mind this week for numerous reasons.

The perpetual light bulb went off in my head so much this week, and the realization of why Mother did things the way she did them was so evident.  The admiration I have for her now is even more profound because there were times she could have really put me in my place for disagreeing with her.  Instead, she just quietly let me be hard on her.

I am not quite sure why the mother/daughter relationship is like this, but I have witnessed it first hand with Charlotte.  The desire to be independent about clothes, hair, make-up, friendships, privacy, and many more things sometimes drives a huge wedge between a mother and daughter.  However, just like in the story of the Prodigal’s son, my Mother was always willing to forgive and accept with arms wide open.

If I could call my Mother today and apologize for every fit I pitched about clothes, hair, or any other decision she made at which I rolled my eyes, I certainly would.  Deep in my heart, I know my Mother knows even now how much I appreciate every decision she made on my behalf.

This picture is a classic, yet simple example of my Mother standing firm on a decision.

I found this picture this week and immediately remembered the Saturday we had these pictures made.  We were at my Grandmother’s house in Anderson getting dressed for pictures, and I stood in my Grandmother’s bedroom and sobbed because I DID NOT want to wear this particular outfit. I hated jumpers and plaid shirts.  My eyes are visibly red and puffy in this picture.  Mom has her usual perfect glow and her smile still melts my heart.  Her skin was always so perfect, and I always remember thinking her make-up was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  I still buy make-up she used to wear when I am missing her a little more than usual.  Needless to say, I made a visit to the Lancome counter this week.

So Mom, if there is internet in heaven and you can read this. . .

Thank you.  Thank you for teaching me the value of sensible fashion, especially on picture day.  Thank you for being the best example during difficult days, even when I made you think you were making wrong choices.  Thank you for standing firm in your decisions when I made it hard.  I promise your influence has helped me more THIS WEEK than you will ever know.  I have never been more thankful for you than I am right now.  Thank you for being such an example of strength.  I still draw from that strength every minute of every day.

I hope this picture makes you laugh like it made me.  I am so glad I found it.

Happy Mother’s Day Week.

Amy

Good Friday Hope

Today is Good Friday, and my mind immediately goes to remembering Good Friday last year. The pain of losing my Mother was debilitating, but I knew I had to keep going.  The pain is not as fresh, but it is still there in many ways.  Good Friday in the life of a Christian is definitely a day of reflection.  As I reflect today, I am going to re-blog my post from one year ago.  The hope I spoke of last year seems brighter and much more evident today. We have learned much over this past year.  We have realized the importance of appreciating the current time we have together.  We have realized the importance of friends and family.  We have realized the things we used to complain about are things we would give anything for now.  During a hectic holiday, it is easy to complain about the many family functions we must attend.  When you lose someone you love so dearly, you would give anything to re-create those family functions, photo opportunities, hurried lunches after church, egg hunts etc.

While we are so very thankful for the time we all have together today, we must reflect on our past gatherings as well.  We are thankful for so very much, but we are especially thankful for the HOPE we have been given because of the message Good Friday brings.  –

As a Good Friday reflection, here is my blog post from last year. . .

Good Friday Hope Written Apr 6, 2012 4:37am

3 weeks can seem like 10 years when grief is so painfully present in every aspect of your life. My flesh wants to completely skip every holiday and special event for the next year. I am scared of the emotions we will feel going through them without Mom. Daddy and I were shopping for the children (as Mom would want us to do) and I looked at him – in the middle of the mall- and said “how are we going to get through Easter?”  His reply – “Amy, Easter is what gives us our hope to make it through all of this!”  Wow. His wisdom in the midst of grief spoke volumes to me.

It is Good Friday, and my Mother would be picking up Bread in the shape of bunnies from Good Harvest.  She would be running last minute errands to get just the right things to put in all of our Easter baskets.  (Yes, she still gave me my Easter basket from when I was small and would fill it with things I love now.)  She would call me and tell me her Easter menu over and over, making sure she did not leave one thing out.  She would drive to Strossner’s Bakery to pick up a special dessert for us then buy way too many Easter cupcakes for the children.  She would go to Moppets to pick up one more bow for Charlotte in case the other 3 she bought were not good enough choices.  She would continue to think of things to do for US to make sure Easter was as special as it could be.

So, in the spirit of my Mother, I am doing all of this today. But I will do it with a great sadness in my heart.  I find it so fitting that this looming sadness will be felt on Good Friday, the day we as Christians know as the day Jesus died for us.  The pain and sadness God felt is no comparison to mine. However, in my small, human mind, I can try to comprehend it.  In the midst of my sadness today, THERE IS HOPE.  There is hope I will see my Mother again because of what happened on Good Friday. There is hope for peace in the midst of our most painful circumstances.  Death comes laden with sadness.  So to be completely honest, I have no joy in the midst of thinking of Mother’s death today. But I do have hope.  I have hope that one day I will have joy again.  I have hope because of Good Friday. Actually, the hope comes from what happened AFTER Good Friday.  I believe in the resurrection of Christ, and I believe that one day I will be reunited with my Mother because of that.

“…weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” -Psalm 30:5

March 16, 2013 – One Year

“Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wonder.” – Saint Augustine

March 16, 2013.  One year. One year since my Mother left this world and began spending eternity with her Heavenly Father.   It seems we measure everything in our lives by time or seasons so arriving at this date on the calendar feels like an important day in the life of our family.  It will be a day of reflection.  It will be a day we recall how very special Judy King was.  It will be a day we spend time together as a family.It will be a day of worship. March 16, 2012 will be a day we look back on and realize how much God has taught us through this journey.

Today I am humbled and honored to speak at a Women’s Conference for a life long friend’s church. The theme for the conference….MASTERPIECE.  This time last year, I definitely did not feel like much of a masterpiece.  This time last year, I wondered what God was doing with us, to be honest.  I asked God a lot of questions over this past year, and the one thing I failed to realize was the SOVEREIGNTY of God.  I do not have any more answers today than I had a year ago.  However, today I am able to realize God is sovereign, and there are some things only He knows that I would never be able to comprehend in the first place.

Masterpiece.  If anyone did a good job helping me feel like a masterpiece, it was my Mother.  She had such a tender way of helping me with my physical attributes as well as my social experiences.  But if there is one thing I have tried to realize while studying for this conference, it is that we are God’s masterpiece, no matter what we look like or feel like.  He wants to mold us and shape us into something wonderful, but even during the seasons where we are nothing but dried up bones (Ezekiel 37), He still looks at us with loving eyes and longs to breathe new life into us.

If I were my Mother, I would tell myself. . . .  I often think about the title of this blog.  What would she want me to know right now?  After spending a year in heaven, I am sure her advice would have nothing to do with how to clean my house or how to create more space in the pantry.  I am quite certain her advice today would be centered much around taking care of the inside, taking care of my heart, my relationship with God, realizing the masterpiece we all are and then taking care of it.

I remember what I wore on March 16, 2012.  Every time I walked in to see Mother, she would always tell me how pretty I looked.  She always saw the best in me, even when I felt there was no good at all.  I was able to spend a few hours with her the morning of the 16th last year.  She told me to go on to school when Daddy got there.  I think she was waiting for me to leave.  It was quiet and peaceful and exactly like she wanted it.  To hear Daddy tell his experience is precious.  He was watching her one minute, the doorbell rang, he went to the door to receive some flowers being delivered, and when he returned to Mother, in those few quick seconds, she had quietly passed away.

She did everything in a private, quiet way.  She even left this world in a beautiful way, and I am so proud to say I am her daughter.  She is now a perfect masterpiece.  No more cancer.  No more medicine.  No more swelling or body sores.  No more tears.  No more pain.  I miss her so much, it physically hurts, but I am so thankful she does not have to endure the pain she endured this time last year.

I will never stop remembering the things she taught me.  There is a lifetime of memories we will always have, and I look forward to recalling them throughout another year.  What a difference a year can make. . .

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” – Revelation 21:4

My Mother, the Masterpiece

“My mother is a poem I’ll never be able to write, though everything I write is a poem to my mother.”  ~Sharon Doubiago

It is very hard NOT to think about what our family was dealing with this time last year. It has almost been one year since my Mother went to live in heaven, and I remember the days leading up to it so clearly.  I remember so vividly every doctor appointment.  I remember what Mother wore, what she took to drink, how she wanted her lipstick in her lap, her sunglasses, how she wanted her hair perfect,  the tissue she would grab to keep in her lap, the pillows she had to take, her blank stares out the window.

I used to think there would never be a time when I would not think of those things that make my heart hurt with such an excrutiating pain.  I used to think the bad, painful, cancer memories would always be in the forefront of my mind.  As I sit here in my living room, on Mother’s couch (the exact same couch she was sitting on this time last year), I can honestly say, the good memories FAR OUTWEIGH the medical ones, and I have this blog to prove it.

I knew writing this close to March 16 would be difficult so I have not written much lately, but today, I want to write.  I want to remember the good things.

Psalm 139:13-14 says “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful. I know that full well.

It is no wonder we all feel such a connection to our Mothers.  God created us, knit us together, inside of our Mother!  We are beautiful pieces of art, and I want to remember my Mother just as that… one of the most beautiful pieces of God’s workmanship.

I realize this corrupt world plays a part in how our “masterpieces” become extremely messed up with sin, human nature, cancer, other diseases, etc.  I still need God every minute of every day to refine, reshape, and mold this masterpiece called Amy Byrd.  I have certainly made a mess out of that one.  But when I hear my daughter’s laugh or listen to my Mother’s voice, or see my son playing in the backyard, or watch my husband play guitar, or see my Daddy helping a complete stranger, I realize what masterpieces we are surrounded by every day!

We found this video of Charlotte’s 2nd birthday party last week.  I can’t believe how much she has changed in 2 years!  Again, an example of the handiwork of God.  This was the last birthday Mother was able to enjoy with Charlotte.  The following year was tough because Mother had become very sick.  This video is so very special to me for many reasons.  The innocence and excitement of our little Charlotte is so evident.  The VOICES heard around Charlotte are some very special people in our lives.  It is both sets of grandparents, Darian, Will and myself singing.  My Mother’s voice is very audible, and it is truly one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. I will treasure this sound for the rest of my life.

Here is an example of the masterpieces God created for me to enjoy…. I can’t help but smile and feel overwhelming gratitude.

“With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.” – excerpt from Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

A Birthday Letter – one day early

Mother’s 61st birthday is tomorrow, February 13, 2013.  She always wanted to be the first person to wish us a Happy Birthday as well as give the first gift.  So, in Judy King fashion, here is a very special birthday letter to her, a day early.

Happy Birthday Mom!

I know this may seem odd writing a birthday letter, but I feel the need to do it.  The desire to do things to honor you is still very strong.  The grief still sneaks up on me when I least expect it; the reflexive reach for the phone is a very hard habit to break.  The longing for your advice still makes my heart ache.  Thinking about where we were this time last year is extremely difficult especially because your birthday and the date of your death are so close together.  Your birth and your death are linked together for me in such an existential equation.  Maybe it is because I need to be reminded that in order for me to honor you after your death, I should realize how greatly I should be living.  Not existing.  Living.

How am I doing that?  Well, it is definitely a process.  Throughout the past year,  I have honestly tried to recall your wisdom, advice, and our special times together in order to continue the legacy you started with me 36 years ago. This blog has been therapeutic in that aspect.  It is also a concrete way for me to share with others, especially Will and Charlotte, how much you impacted our lives.

Speaking of the grandchildren. . . You wouldn’t believe how much technology is playing a role in our household.  Charlotte can navigate the ipad better than I can.  Will knows more tricks on his ipod than I will ever figure out in a lifetime.  I have a hard time knowing how to integrate all of this in our day to day lives.  You always warned me about laziness.  You hated it.  I hear myself saying the same thing to Will.  You and I had our biggest fights over my clothes and what I was going to wear to school or church.  Guess what?  Charlotte is paying me back big time for that!  Both of them still thank God for you every night in their prayers.  I wish you could see them now. Maybe you can.  I think about that every day when I go to hug one of them, and they always feel a little taller or seem to be much older than just the day before.

I have thought a lot about how I want to spend my time on your birthday tomorrow.  I want to celebrate and remember the things you loved.  You loved your family.  You loved your God.  You loved fresh flowers.  You loved desserts.  You loved shopping.  You loved making people feel special.  You loved your small town of Easley.  You loved.  You loved.  You loved.  You loved.  And people loved you right back!  This love was as central to your personality as was your uncanny ability to make friends anywhere. I can’t go anywhere and someone not say hello to me because they knew YOU.  I am so proud to say I am your daughter.

Okay.  So what to do on your special day?

1. Definitely drink a hazelnut latte from Starbucks, your favorite.
2. Visit a few of our favorite shops on Augusta Road.
3. Go by the Fresh Market and hopefully find some of your favorite flowers – lilies or daisies.
4. Hug Daddy.
5. Call a couple of your closest friends.
6. Wear your jewelry.  ( I do that every day already.)
7. Listen to some of your favorite music.
8. Go see your dog, Bentley.  He loved you so much.
9. Let go of any bitterness I may be holding on to about your cancer.  (That’s a tough one, Mom)
10. Stop by City Hall and see everyone.  They loved you so much, and they were so good to us when you were so sick.
11. Cry a little but mainly tears of joy
12. Celebrate life.  Celebrate the 36 years we had together.

There is quite a large void without you here.  I know the only thing that can fill it is love only our heavenly Father can give.  Some days I try to fill that void with other things, and then I think of the advice you would give me.  You would never judge me.  You would definitely understand, but I know you would sweetly tell me to “get it together” in your sweet, southern charmed voice.  I am learning that “getting it together” is a series of choices we make daily.  It is not a place we obtain and stay there until we die.  Some days I fail miserably, but I am keenly aware that God is willing to meet me and pick me up wherever I am if I am willing to receive his help.

You always said it best when you ended every letter and card. So in the classy style of the most beautiful Mother in the world, I want to end your birthday letter the same way you always ended mine. . . .  “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.”

Happy Birthday Mom,

Your Amy

How we love our big sunglasses!