Tomorrow

“We always think there's enough time to do things with other people. Time to say things to them. And then something happens and then we stand there holding on to words like 'if'.” 

-Fredrick Backman, A Man Called Ove

This is my best friend from middle school and high school, Christi. Her mom passed away on Monday.

Christi is my first friend my age to lose a parent while we've known each other. I'm 28. Her mom was healthy. We aren't supposed to lose our parents yet.

Throughout our seven years of middle school and high school, Christi and I spent five or six days together every week. She would come to my house, and we'd pretend to study. I'd go to her house and watch You've Got Mail for the 35th time. We did each other's hair for prom and then tried on all of each other's dresses before picking the perfect one. Christi's mom was always there for all of that, usually standing behind the camera in her quiet way, never wanting to steal the spotlight.

And then, on November 14th, 2016, she wasn't there anymore.

I hadn't seen Christi's mom in years when she passed away. When college rolled around, Christi headed off to Dallas Baptist, while I went to OU. I got married. She got her master's degree and a fancy job. Though miles and circumstances often separated us, I knew that Christi and I would always be present for the "big things" in each other's lives.

However, as we became adults, Christi and I saw less and less of each other's parents face-to-face. Which, I suppose, is why I was surprised to find myself so distraught over Diane's death. I was crying into the macaroni at work last week before I even knew what was happening.

Part of it is that, as Christi got older, I began to see more of her mom in her, even when I didn't physically see her mom in person. In his book, The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis discusses how his group of friends was never the same again after one of them died. That particular friend brought out aspects of the others' personalities that wouldn't have otherwise been displayed. It's the same with Christi and Diane, and I'm sad to think about part of my friend essentially dying when her mom did. I will miss the parts of Christi that were molded by 29 years of life with this woman.

"How do you go through life without your mom?"
Christi's sister, Ashley, posted this on her Instagram a few days after Diane died.

I don't know.  I'm aware that many people do not have relationships with their mothers, but I don't know how I would go through life without mine. I hate that Christi has to.

I hate that Christi's dad has to go through life without his wife. Men are always so strong until they lose the woman they love.

The suddenness of Diane's death has caused me to ponder the truth that death is near to all of us. In my mind, people are supposed to pass away like my grandfather. He had had a long, good life, and he left the pain of cancer behind to go be with his Jesus. In my mind, people aren't supposed to die at the age of 34 from a stroke, like my cousin's husband. Healthy hearts aren't supposed to stop in the middle of the night like Christi's mom's.   But they do.  Death is no respecter of persons, and it is certainly no respecter of my thoughts on how people are "supposed" to meet their end.

My daughter is currently loving the Frog and Toad series. She reads this one story, "Tomorrow," over and over again. Toad is "down in the dumps" because of the pile of chores that he needs to do.

'“I will do it tomorrow,” said Toad. “Today I will take life easy.”'

Don't we all do this? We assume that we will have more time than we do, when, in reality, we are only promised this day. This moment. Everything beyond now is a gift.

I am not suggesting that we all live in fear of having the people we love taken from us. Rather, we should seek to savor the fleeting time that we have with them, for there is no guarantee of tomorrow.

I don't want to be left "holding on to words like 'if'".

Junior Homecoming (2000)

Junior Homecoming (2000)

Senior Prom (2002)

*Written in memory of Diane Corbitt. I'm forever thankful for the legacy of love she's leaving behind in her children and in all of the kindergarteners whose lives she touched throughout her many years of teaching.

A Decade

Dear Andrew,

Ten years ago today, we sat down on the couch at your little college duplex and had the "DTR Talk."  (That's "Define The Relationship", for those reading who weren't born in the 80s.  Do people do that anymore??)  We had been on several dates, but on this day, November 14, 2006, you asked me to be your girlfriend.  I wonder if you knew, then, how much that simple question, that invitation into your life, would change my life forever.

This recent fall weather has made me nostalgic about our college days together.  From the beginning, our relationship has been a series of unlikely events.  I met you during my first week at the University of Oklahoma, when I was on a date with someone else.  Sparks flew for you, but I didn't give you, the long-haired hippie, another thought for awhile.  Through a physics class and too many late night games of ultimate frisbee, I learned that you were funny, kind-hearted, and indifferent to the opinions of others.  I liked you so much that I said "yes" to our first date...which you asked me about in a Facebook message(!), knowing wholeheartedly that my parents would never approve.

When I wrecked my car and my beloved granddad passed away within my first month of being away from home, it was you who came to my rescue, both literally (you picked me up off the side of the road in Oklahoma City) and metaphorically.  It has always been that way- me, the crazy girl losing her mind over commonly trivial but occasionally significant circumstances, and you, remaining constant, empathetic, and present.

During the first two months of dating, the center where I had donated plasma called and told me that there was a problem with my plasma.  I had tested positive for HIV (which ended up being an extremely rare false positive, but I didn't know that at the time).  As I sat in the parking lot sobbing, I tried to wrap my mind around how it was even possible for me to contract this disease and then how I was going to tell you this earth-shattering news.  Later in the evening, I sat down on that same "DTR couch" and spilled the message that could potentially ruin so many of your plans.  You gave me a hug, and then you chose me anyway.

That was, perhaps, the first instance of "dying to self" for my sake, but in the 36,503 days that have followed the initial invitation to be your girl, there have been hundreds of "choosing me anyways".  You pursued me in my inability to communicate, my throwing the ring in your face a few weeks after we got engaged, our infertility and my anger, my depression, my wandering from you and from God, and even my desire to not be married to you anymore.  I've given you a thousand reasons to let me go, and you haven't given up once.      

I have no idea what we were doing for the first eight years of our relationship, but I know that it is grace which initially brought us together and has held us through some tremendous heartache.  The past two years with you have made me excited to wake up by your side for the next 50, as you've shown me a love that I never knew existed.  It was easy to say "I do" at the age of 21, when we looked perfect and had experienced few trials of significance.  It was not so easy to keep committing when everything hit the fan.  Though still in our twenties at our vow renewal ceremony two summers ago, we understood (at least to a much greater degree) what it means to love someone "for better or for worse" because we had experienced the "worse" part of the equation.  Ours is an unlikely story of redemption in a thousand different ways, and I'm somehow grateful for all of the ups and downs that God has used to build the relationship we have today.

I can't remember where we first heard this phrase that we've made our own...maybe at a marriage conference?  Anyway, the speaker was talking about the ease of loving people who seemingly are flawless.  But then, you really get to know them, and you see the gross little blemishes that everyone has, and you must decide if you are going to love them, "warts and all".  On the days when I doubt that I am worthy of love, worthy of your time, and worthy of this beautiful life that we have, you remind me that you see all of me...and you're still here.  Thank you for loving me the way that you do, "warts and all."  One decade down, hopefully five more to go.

Love you through it all,

MR    

Our first "real" date- BYX Date Party- September 2006.
I can't believe I'm posting this embarrassing picture.  We were an 80's couple.

Date Party- 2007?

Carving pumpkins- 2008?

Our engagement in Chicago- July 9, 2008

Engagement

OU football game (late college)

Our wedding day- July 11, 2009 (They let babies get married!)

Vow Renewal Ceremony- July 11, 2015