Alas upon arrival we discovered that this area was closed. So we pondered what to do and realized that sunset, as we did with mom, would be the likely time. So we greeted the early morning and agreed to meet up again later today. It was disappointing to me, but what can you do? Best laid plans of mice and men and daughters oft go awry.
On the upside, it's a gorgeous, fresh morning. The sun is now sneaking up above the ridge and can be seen from the backyard. Mt. San Jacinto is welcoming this new day in all of its wondrous glory. We even caught a glimpse of the lunar eclipse, a reward for getting up so early today.
The roses in our garden are blooming like crazy. Dad loved his roses so it's a good connection. A new rose, a peace rose, emerged earlier this week. Delicate, fragrant, beautiful. Tanner is a good companion this morning.
As we arrived back home from our futile outing, my watch said 6.35. The time of death a year ago. It still kind of tears me apart remembering how I sat with him over night and prayed for a peaceful passing. He did not go easily but now he's at rest. He's better off, but I just miss him so much. I'm drinking my coffee out of this cup in memory of him...he was #1 in so many different ways.
I'm grateful that the anniversary of his passing falls on the Saturday before Easter. My grief connects me to how devastated the Saturday after Christ's crucifixion must've felt to Christ's followers. The sting of death. The ending of an earthly relationship that was so powerful and meaningful in your life. Hopes and dreams for the future shattered. In some ways, the grief and heartache of Easter Saturday are such appropriate emotions for me on this day.
But I have an advantage over those who walked the earth with Christ. I already know what awaits us tomorrow at sunrise. The grave will be empty. Resurrection will unfold. Christ the Lord will be Risen and his followers along with him. The words of I Thessalonians 4 resonate with me this morning: