It hurts when you have a sore throat and you’re trying not to cry…

I’m emotional today. My mother-in-law died suddenly and unexpectedly last night. I want to write about it, about the raw, honest emotions my amazing father-in-law is expressing, about the help we’re receiving, both from angels in our town and those in the spirit world, about my feelings about my mother-in-law, but I don’t want to be intrusive to those who are grieving. Perhaps when I’ve gathered my thoughts and things aren’t so raw, I’ll be able to write about this.
And I know that we’re supposed to let all of our emotions out, that crying expels hormones that make you sad, but when you are trying to hold everyone together, it’s hard to just break down and let it all out. That will come later, after the funeral.

So here’s the biggest battle I’ve had with my tears and my throat today…

You know that lump you get when you’re trying to hold back the tears. I know you do. Well, when your throat is sore because you’re coming down with the same virus your three littlest boys have, that lump makes your neck feel like it’s in a vice, and like you are going to gag. It physically hurts.

At the end of a difficult day the 14-year-old boy had offered to give Baby Hippo a bath in exchange for me doing his dishes. I gladly agreed to this, knowing that I could get it done in half the time he would. When I was finished, I went into the bathroom to see Baby Hippo happily splashing to the tunes of George Strait. Just for your information, the 14-year-old boy has recently become a cowboy, which means that he doesn’t actually work with cattle, unless a rare opportunity presents itself, but that he wears western shirts, Wranglers, and a cowboy hat. This also entails listening to country music, namely George Strait, 24/7. He has even asked why I haven’t blogged about his “cowboy-ness” yet. Cuteness!

Anyway, back to the bathroom. I sat down and told him that I was done with his dishes and that he could be on his way. He said, “Okay, Mom, but have you heard this song? It’s a really cool song”. I listened to the hit that was playing and I said no. Just as I answered, though, the chorus rang out, and I realized I did know the song, and I began belting it out...

“Let me tell ya a secret
‘Bout a father’s love
A secret that my daddy said was just between us
He said daddies don't just love their children every now and then
It's a love without end, amen, it's a love without end, amen”

He said, “Mom, I thought you said you didn’t know this song.”

“Well, I do. I didn’t realize it until the chorus came on.”

And this is when the lump in my throat, that had been threatening to emerge all day, reared its head and put my neck in a vice. I couldn’t talk, or even look at him, because my eyes were welling up with tears. I don’t know if it was the fact that he was touched by a song about fathers, and that he missed his father who committed suicide six years ago or if he was thinking of his step-father, John, and what he has meant in his life or if he was just imagining that this is the kind of father he wants to be, but whatever the motivation for his interest in this song, it affected me deeply.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub and listened quietly along with him, trying to keep from bursting into tears as Baby Hippo splashed and played. Then we got to the end of the second verse.

“Okay, Mom,” he said, “Now this is the best part. Listen to this.”

As the third verse started, he repeated, “Okay. Listen to this part.”

This is what it said…

“Last night I dreamed I’d died and stood outside those pearly gates
When suddenly I realized there must be some mistake
If they know half the stuff I done they’ll never let me in
Then somewhere from the other side I heard these words again

And they said, Let me tell you a secret, about a fathers love
A secret that my daddy said was just between us
You see daddies don’t just love their children every now and then
It's a love without end, amen, it’s a love without end, amen”

Okay, right now, as I’m writing this, the lump is back, and it hurts.

As I listened to this verse, a little quiet sob was released from my throat, but I don’t think he heard it because of the splashing. I thought of what profound thing I could say when the song was over and how I could say it without letting on that I was about to start sobbing like a little tiny baby.

When the music stopped, I said in a loud voice, so as to disguise my lump, “Yeah, that’s a good song.”

Profound, I know. And I know many of you are sitting there wondering why I didn’t just let it all out in front of my boy. I guess the answer is because I don’t want him to be all “freaked out” that I would burst into tears when he’s trying to share a thing that means something to him. I’m sure my therapist would have said that I should’ve let him see me cry, but I just couldn’t.

As he picked up his IPOD player and began to walk out of the bathroom, he turned to me and said, “So, Mom, I guess this tells us that George Strait believes in Jesus.”

I smiled at him and nodded and said, “Yeah, I guess it does.” Again, very profound.

I LOVE that boy. Here's the song...

P.S. My sister and I are finally getting skinnier!
See how we're doing it HERE! :)