Some Days

Ms. Funderburg.jpg

Almost every day is the best day of my life.

At work, people no longer ask me what kind of day I’m having. They know my reply will likely be, “It’s the best day of my life.” I learned early in my rodeo career that my attitude helped determine my altitude. While the wild west days are behind me, my life’s mission remains: Get Out, Witness, Encourage, Serve, and Testify. So, I strive to Go West, making each day count. But friends, as you well know, not every day is easy. In fact, I have “some days” – the long, hard, tough ones that can’t end soon enough!

Mother’s Days is a prime example. While the twins and I love to celebrate Jamie and her selfless sacrifices, a piece of me silently grieves for my mom.

The twins go all out to show Jamie special love – homemade cards, hugs, kisses, candy, gifts, and pretty much whatever she wants (which is usually more hugs and kisses). And Jamie eats it up! After all, it is her day. Watching our young sons celebrate their momma reflects the love I had for my momma – genuine and unconditional.

Truth be told, these last four years, I’ve worked to balance celebrating Jamie while also remembering momma. It seems like yesterday she passed away. To the is day, I still dial her number. If time in fact heals, waiting is in my future. Four years is not long enough. Meanwhile, I keep trusting the Lord to use this experience for my good and His glory. Momma would want that, too.

Thankfully, Jamie understands that grieving is a process.

This Mother’s Days we celebrated Jamie, and all the moms in her family, at her childhood home. It was awesome. Yet, I gravely missed my momma. As the kids played and we enjoyed a beautiful southern day, my mind was 15 miles away. Frankly, I wanted to escape. I thought, if I were only there, I could close my eyes and imagine her still here.

About that time, Jenn (my sister-in-law) said, let me introduce you to my “Grandma Funderburg.” Jenn continued, “Grandma is just week’s shy of 90!”

It didn’t take long to realize, Grandma Funderburg measured life in moments, not years. She was as sharp as a tack, funny as a teenager – and kept up with them, too. As she rode a four-wheeler with one and flew a drone with another, her laugh and smile eased my mind.

Spending time with this southern belle was as refreshing as sipping sweet tea out of a mason jar.

For a moment, even in the grieving, another mother helped make my heart smile. As the sun began to set, I hurried away. You see, my momma’s grave was only 15 miles away.

Jenn’s Grandma Funderburg didn’t realize it then, but she turned one of my some days in to a great day!

Here’s the morale of the story: God sends us people when we need them the most…On July 4, 2017, as we celebrate Independence Day, will you help me wish Grandma Funderburg a Happy 90th Birthday?

Go West,

Jeremy