The Smoky Mountains

A couple of weeks ago, Meredyth and I headed east for our annual shopping trip to Gatlinburg. It was my 25th year to go, and I had been super excited for weeks. It was Meredyth's third year - well, fifth if you count the year I was pregnant with her and the year she was an infant!

My sister-in-law, niece, and mother-in-law joined us for a few days as well! We had a great time catching up.

The vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges of the autumn leaves were absolutely beautiful this year! I know it is only November, but for years we have pulled out the Christmas CDs and sung our way to the mountains. This year was no exception!

As most of you know, this trip began with my grandmother. She and my grandfather used to spend a few weeks in a chalet in Gatlinburg every Fall. When he became ill, my grandma missed it so much, so Mom and I offered to take her. When she could no longer make the trip, Mom and I continued the tradition. We would spend five days shopping for Christmas, eating out, and relaxing.

Now that Mom is no longer here, it has become my trip with my own daughters. Last year, Meredyth and Patty and I went. It was a hard week after our loss, but a precious time with the girls. This year, Patty couldn't go, and we really missed her.

My mom loved planning, packing, and thinking about our trip every year. We would begin talking about it soon after summer vacation, and probably drove everyone around us crazy with all our plans!

As we drove into Pigeon Forge this time, the mountains were displayed in front of us like always. They were breathtaking! A mist had settled over them, and they looked like they went on forever. It was at that moment that grief slammed into me like I had hit a brick wall. I wanted to open the car door and run away as far and as fast as I could, but I figured that would freak Mer out. Instead, I gave in to the feeling and let it wash over me. Twenty-five years of memories began to run through my mind, one after the other. I remembered:

driving through the winding roads with Mom at dusk listening to beautiful Christmas music; eating caramel apples as we walked through the streets of Gatlinburg while a light snow settled on our hair and shoulders; visiting the little silver shop in the Village and deciding what to buy; shopping for hours in the outlet mall until we could hardly walk and then writing down what we bought in our little Christmas notebooks; buying cases of apple butter at The Apple Barn; combining our change and eating dinner out of the vending machine at our hotel one night; browsing in the Christmas store until we found the perfect ornament to commemorate our trip; and on and on.

Nearly every memory I have of Gatlinburg has my mom in it.

I saw a movie a few weeks ago that had a scene about grief in it. A pastor was counseling someone about their recent loss of a loved one. He said (I paraphrase) "At some point in your grief, you will have to make a decision whether to be bitter about your loss, or grateful for the time you had with your loved one. Some people gain an intimacy with God through their experience that others never find."

I shared that scene with Meredyth as we drove to our hotel. I also shared my gratitude for the sixty-six years I had with Mom. The first time that I can remember her nearly dying was when I was sixteen. I was given fifty more years with her than I expected to have! I still miss her terribly, sometimes almost more than I can bear. I don't think it will ever be easy to live without her in my life.

And...I think it's true - I have gained an intimacy with God that I didn't have before. In my sadness, He has remained faithful and present.