Her Key To Heaven

This past month has been fraught with challenges; John's mom

fell down and broke her hip mid-July, so she spent her 90th birthday

in this skilled-nursing facility just down the road from us.

Terrified to walk again, Ruby lost her strength fairly quickly, and

just weeks after this incredible milestone, she was offered

hospice care. This past Friday, she got her key to heaven.

That evening, we were awed and comforted by this Ruby red Texas sky.

I'm so grateful for the opportunity to visit every day this past month to help keep her comfortable and content, but that bonding time also made scripting her obituary really difficult for me.

Here are my reflections after saying so long on Thursday:

I took her by the hand, the very hand that held my husband as a baby, and I sang: Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling … come home, come home, you who are weary come home.

I took her by the hand, the very hand that made all of those beautiful meals, and we prayed together: Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

I took her by the hand, the hand that wrote greeting cards too many to count, for every single celebration, and we cried together as I gave her permission to go and made her promise that when God comes for her, not to fight Him on it. (I also snuck in to please tell Mipps that we love him!)

And as I held her hand, that gentle, tender squeeze told me that whatever happens, we would all be ok.

God’s got this, hospice help is keeping her comfortable, and we are grateful for our prayer warriors as we walk Ruby home.

It was the first time I'd ever given someone permission to go.

Actually letting go isn't easy, but it's a necessary part of life.

To everything, a season ... a time to laugh and a time to mourn.

How blessed we are to have had such a caring,

generous and elegantly-stylish matriarch.

Switching directions, meet my friend, Krystle Smith.

She was my intern ten years ago, in the spring of 2014. I didn't really think I wanted or needed an intern, especially since I was still recovering from that head-on collision with a drunk driver just the year prior, but since her mom was a teacher at my school and I knew she'd be awesome, I said I'd absolutely be open to helping her out in any way that I could.

Our district wasn't known for taking on school-counseling interns, so I half expected my Principal to decline the request, but it went through and the rest is history. Krystle's passion was contagious; she was an enthusiastic sponge, so eager to learn and grow with me. It turns out I needed her every bit as much as she needed me. Our time together was so special that I didn't want to see that semester come to an end.

But she was ready, so ready for that next step.

Her own counseling office and classroom.

Her own school family to mentor, guide and love.

That wouldn't happen, however, until this summer.

July of 2024.

Ten years after she interned with me.

It wasn't for lack of trying, but doors just stayed shut,

doors that kept Krystle in the classroom loving on kids

and learning and growing while she stayed the course and

waited for that very first school-counselor offer of her own.

Today, I got to visit her at that lucky school that took a chance on her, and talk about my favorite trait, empathy, with a group of her third-grade Stars, and it was incredibly energizing. They gasped with delight when I told them that their new counselor trained with me and has wanted to be a school counselor since before they were born.

And the were such respectful listeners that I knew.

I knew that she'd been given a gift from God,

a special place to call her second home,

a reward for not giving up when

those doors were locked up tight.

After practicing the empathy switch and reading

Birdie & Mipps, I gave each of the 45 students a

KEYpsake, a little antique empa-KEY reminder

to always treat others the way they want to be treated.

One of the third graders asked if it was a key to heaven,

(you simply cannot make this stuff up ... )

to which I answered that empathy and kindness do

tend to bring a little bit of heaven to earth, don't they?

Finally, today I'm grateful for this chance to visit with veteran wellness teacher, Craig Shapiro, up in PA. Click {here} to sit in on our virtual chat.