Filled to the Brim

Packing the car to leave for vacation is no fun. The only thing less fun is packing the car to go home from vacation. Every one of us needs a suitcase, the boys (including Keith) insist on taking computers, videos, video games and video game systems. We have a bag of toiletries, 2 golf bags, a cooler, a few bags of grocery items, camera bag, a pillow or two…all to fit in the cargo space plus one seat of a mini van. The van was filled to the brim before we had even picked up Jake from Maryville and before Keith encouraged Caleb to take his guitar.

I remember traveling when I was young. We had a huge wooden carrier attached to the top of the station wagon as we headed to Ponca State Park. In addition, every inch of space in the car was packed. The floor where Mom’s feet were supposed to be instead held snacks and a cooler of pop, her purse, a jacket, a pillow, a bag with band-aids and wet cloths, a package of napkins, cups and plates and a garbage bag. I still am not sure where she put her feet…good thing she was short. Mom would complain that she was crowded, throwing out the occasional “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, there is too much stuff up here!” But, she would never give up being the one in charge, the one to feed her kids and make them happy with cookies, crackers and chocolate.

When Mom died, she wanted a private visitation...just us kids and Dad. The night before the service, my sister Geri called everyone and told them that if they wanted anything to be buried with her, to bring it the next morning. I declined…she was taking my heart, what else could I send?

By the time my family arrived, all my brothers and sisters and their families were there. As I walked passed the coffin, I couldn’t help but notice the many trinkets and bobbles that were carefully chosen to be given to mom. There were t-shirts and small volleyballs, letters, pictures and photographs. Memories of her gambling and travels to Mexico, her favorite angel statues…PILES of items from the over 50 in attendance. When I reached my chair next to Keith, I got the giggles and the harder I tried to stop, the worse it became. My sister, Lindy, turned back,

“What in the world are you laughing about?” she whispered through clenched teeth.

“I just can’t help but imagine Mom looking at all that stuff and saying, ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, can’t I even take ONE trip without everyone’s junk being in the way? It’s my last trip, I’m going by myself and I still have to squeeze in!”

Lindy, laughing at this time added, “At least it isn’t all at her feet!”

Within minutes the funeral director came in to the room, cleared all the items away from the upper part of the casket, opened the bottom half and carefully placed it all at Mom’s feet. Lindy and I couldn’t contain our guffaws and we shared the joke with the rest of family, giving everyone a much needed laugh on a day when great sadness loomed.

Every time I pack the car I think of Mom. Every time I do anything I think of Mom, but especially at vacation time. I am reminded that every trip we make, we take with us all those things we think we will need. We take back with us all those things plus a life-time of memories, which is probably why we seem to have so much less room on the return trip. Those memories fill us to the brim, cramming us a little bit tighter together on the way home. Those memories will be what we will all take with us on our final trip Home. We won’t need snacks, cold beverages, t-shirts or photos, we will simply take the joys that fill our soul, the Lord’s outstretched hand and off we will go, to join the drivers, navigators, families and friends who have taken the trip before us.