Friday, November 13, 2009


I'm a spectator in the lives of some friends who have recently lost a major strand of thread in the beautiful fabric of their lives. This wasn't a little thread in the seam or a little snag under the arm or a barely noticeable thread that broke in the hem. This was the big strand of thread that ran right down the middle of a beautiful design.
The beautiful design is what made the fabric and defined the fabric and without it the fabric just feels and looks all wrong. Now instead of this beautiful design there is nothing but a big hole and it somehow makes the fabric seem less beautiful and no one seems to know what to do with that big hole.
I see some of them trying to cover it up while they figure out what to do with it, but no matter what they put there, it just isn't the right size or shape to completely hide the hole.
I see some of them trying to decorate it and make it fit back in to the original design, but the design just doesn't work the same as it did before.
I see some of them wishing they could just take the fabric away and magically it would fix itself and then they could bring it back and it would be just like it used to be before it got torn, but we all know that doesn't work unless you are Samantha or Jeannie on television.
It's a hard thing to watch. I want to take the fabric and some beautiful threads that match and darn the hole so that it resembles the missing strands and the fabric will still seem as beautiful as it did before. I want to help fill this hole and make the fabric whole again.
But I'm just a spectator.
A simple spectator that can do very little except cheer them on when they try to do something with that hole and support their efforts as they work on darning that hole themselves, pulling the fibers of the fabric back together and do what they can to reclaim the beautiful fabric of their lives.
It sucks.
I love you guys!


Sue said...

Oh Sheila, That was so amazing and touching!
It made me cry, which is something I haven't really let myself do a lot of these last weeks. I am one of those who was covering it up with something. Being busy having people staying in your home for 3 weeks doesn't allow for grieving time and trying to figure out what life is supposed to be now. I guess it doesn't happen at once but is a process that takes a life time.
John's passing has left a hole in many lives, some definitely bigger than others. But still a painful hole. And that very vibrant and strong thread will always be missed and each of our fabrics will never be the same again.
I am so thankful that God sent a spectator like yourself to cheer us all on. Thank you.

The Invisible Mo said...

Thank you, Sue. You should thank God, I guess, because I'm pretty sure he was the author of that piece. I just held the pen, so to speak.
I was just sitting here thinking about all the fun we used to have on the computer, all of us farming and visiting and enjoying time together and how all that has changed since the passing of John. I think I was feeling just a little left out because I remember thinking that I didn't lose a father, a husband, a brother, an uncle, a grandfather and not even really a friend. As much as I would have liked to get to know him better, I really didn't even know John that well. Yet his passing impacted my life from the fact that it impacted all of you so much.
I was drifting in and out of sleep while thinking all of this. When I woke up it was time to write my blog and get ready for work. I went over first and read Becky's blog, which hit me hard. Then I came to my empty page and these words just kind of poured out. I cried the whole time I wrote it and I cry every time I read it. I actually went to work thinking about it and hoping it wouldn't offend anyone. (don't doesn't make sense to me either)
I'm thankful that it touched you and that you understood it. It means a lot to me.

Cindi said...

This was really beautiful! And, like my Mom, I am so thankful for the blessing you've been to those that matter so much to me! Thank you!

The Invisible Mo said...

Thank you, Cindi.

Christine said...

I love you too.

I know the hole is there. I also know that I am helpless and can't fix the hole so I don't try. I know that I can't cover it up either so I don't try. I just have to live the best I can now with the hole. I except the fact that I will cry every night. As for my loved ones I have the helpless feeling of being a spectator too. I can't mend the rent. That sucks big time. A mom always wants to make things better for her kids. I totally get what you are saying. I have thought the same thing.

I do believe that God is the master weaver. All that I can do is hang on and trust that He knows what He is doing with the fabric. This alone brings me hope and comfort. The day will come when the fabric is darned and mended. It will always look different though. It can never be the same yet it will be beautiful again.

The Invisible Mo said...

Oh, Chris, that was a tear-jerker. I so totally understand the part about wanting to always be able to make things better for your kids. I think that must be the hardest part of your position as spectator. I love your last paragraph, though. So very, very true. Even though it might be hard to focus on that right now, it is so very, very true. I'm so glad that he brought us together.