It's been ages since I've wanted to blog. I keep thinking about it then pushing the thoughts aside. I know that a blog should be a place to come and vent, but I don't want that to be all this is. We've gone through such loss lately, that I feel like it's all I'm writing about. I wrestle within myself over the sorrow over losing them, and the rejoicing that they're in Heaven. I'll be honest. The rejoicing is taking it's time this time. Please don't read this with a critical eye for my writing. I'm just letting it all out. Maybe it will help me cope. My sentences are going to be misplaced with no clear flow. This is how grieving is, I think. It doesn't make sense, so why should my writing about it make sense?
Charity and I have been friends since before I can remember. We were in the same kindergarten class... and remained in the same class all the way through elementary school, middle school and high school. It's not how you're thinking. Our graduating class had 13 people. It's not like we all took different Science or English classes. Our class was together all day, every day for 13 years. We would have graduated together if she hadn't left the school, gotten married and started a family. We've been through so much together. I was there for each of her children's births (she has 4), except the last one. This is by far the hardest thing I've had to endure with a friend. I was in Budapest when I found out that her father died. It came as a complete shock. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, and that feeling really hasn't gone away since.
Mr.
Jipson was "healthy as an ox." He looked like a movie star. Thick, wavy hair, strong features, big chest. Just healthy. They still don't know what happened. One of the pastors at his funeral quoted 2 Corinthians 5:8, "Absent from the body, present with the Lord." One minute, he was doing his thing - he was at a customer's house installing satellite - and the next minute he was gone. They don't know why. We don't know why. I can still hear his voice calling Charity "
Punkin". He's always called her that. He had nick names for everyone. He called us, Charity's friends, "Kiddo". "You want anything, Kiddo? Can I get you
somethin' Kiddo?" Such a sweetheart.
Charity's been through
alot. She had a not-so-nice husband, to put it mildly. Her dad was her rock. Always there for her. She lived with him for a while when things got bad. Thank God, she got out of that relationship and has since married a real sweetheart who loves her. I've never seen her so happy. And then this. She wrote something about him, and they put it in the schedule at his funeral. I just keep seeing the words "Who am I going to call when I just need to talk to you, Dad?"
When my husband and I got married, our first house practically shared a backyard with Mr.
Jipson. So many memories in that neighborhood! It was so strange to live there after the many years of
traipsing through those woods with Charity, getting into trouble. I'd meet him in his yard while walking my dog and we'd chat for a while. He always had stories about his
grand kids. When Jake was a baby, Charity and I would go hang out at his house and swim with the kids. We'd all eat ice cream together. He loved his
grand kids so much! You know, last year he wanted to take them all to Disney World. He knew they couldn't afford it, so he bought a big van so he could drive them all down. I'm so glad they had a memory like that now.
I wrote in the card to her that I feel so selfish for thinking that I'm going to miss him. I just wish there was something I could do to take away her pain. It doesn't even make sense. None of it makes sense. I know that God's plan is perfect, it's just
so hard to see it like this, when we can't SEE what's coming out of it. The whole time during the service I kept thinking it could have been my dad, or Amy's dad - we sat together at the service. Her dad is on his "final" tour in Iraq. He's a helicopter pilot. I keep thinking about him. I can't handle losing someone else. We never know when it could happen. It's so strange because the night I finally got through to Charity from over seas after finding out, I talked to her for a while. All I could think about when I hung up is that I've never looked forward to Heaven as I do now. No more of this pain, or fear. We're looking toward that time. He's already there. Maybe he's praying for comfort for his family. Love is stronger than death. Our
pastor said today, we might feel the dying, but death? No. Death knocks on our door but we're already gone. Death can't find us.
They talk about the mansions that will be prepared for us in Heaven. Is that what we're looking forward to? As each day goes on, I think less and less about the mansions, and more and more about the people. And Jesus. The Lion and the Lamb. The glimpses I get here of Him. The love through His people - only a taste of what we'll see there. If we are like Him, some more so than others, then how wonderful He must be in all His glory! I think of Mr.
Jipson. I think of my own dad, so Christ-like in my eyes, and I yearn to see Him. Without this pain and heartache. And to tell others about Him so they can see Him too - both here in this world, and the next.
