After my mom died, there were few things that I asked for nor wanted.
Stuff just doesn’t hold much “significance” for me.
One thing that we did take was the two blue bowls that my mom had during her cancer journey.
It wasn’t until this morning that I understood the significance of these bowls and the gift that I had been given.
Last night, my oldest threw up, eleven times… yup, we counted.
We slept for about two hours and now we are into our day, living our life.
I have learned that we don’t live in a world where everything is perfect or where everything will go as we planned. BUT we can find comfort in chaos and beautiful moments while cleaning a vomit bowl.
My Sexy Neck sent me this text after JC and I’s long night:
The gift of watching my mom vomit over and over and over again as she journeyed through cancer. My mom and I would laugh as we were the two most squeamish members of our family when it came to vomit.
The gift of a bowl to help my children and to be able to walk with them through their sickness.
A blue bowl.
The gift of a messy, marvelous life that my mom lived fully.
My own messy, marvelous life that I live with in freedom and grace.