My Anna & My Deanna

A few nights ago, Anna asked, "Where's your mama?"

I replied, "In heaven."

"What's hers name?" (Not a typo. Totally how she speaks.)

"Her name is Deanna. That's why I named you Anna. She's Deanna. And you're Anna."

And that was that.

But my mind has not stopped thinking about it. What she must think. The concept of me having a mother. Why don't I see or she see my mother. I think about the questions that will come in the future.

So I whipped up a few answers.

It's no secret that my relationship with my mother was rocky. There were more stressful conversations than pleasant ones throughout the last 15 years or so. But the best day I had with my mom happened in April 2011. The day I brought Anna to meet her.

We traveled with our new wee one in tow to Van Buren for a day trip for my Arkansas family to meet her. I was feeling nervous, protective, and anxious as I worried about what possibly could go wrong during the visit.

No doubt my face revealed my surprise when we entered my mom's house. I was shocked with the greeting.

Mom was dressed up in grey trousers and a purple shirt. Her hair was fixed nice. She looked put together, energetic, calm. She looked happy.

The house was extra clean and neat. I could see the effort she put into her appearance, her house, the whole thing because she was excited to meet my baby. I'm not sure how to express what that meant to me. It was the kindest, most loving act. It still brings me to tears.

The entire visit went without a hitch. And in future visits, my mom would even travel to see Anna; something she rarely did thanks to her failing health and unsteady emotions.

So I will be sure Anna knows that Grandma Deanna loved her . . . that Anna brought joy to heart that endured too much hurt . . . that Grandma Deanna celebrated her well. Grandma Deanna loved to listen to Anna babble on the phone, delighted in my stories of milestones, and chuckled at her mishaps. Anna was a bright spot in our relationship.

And I'll also tell Anna about the day we buried my mother.

After the graveside service, I stayed behind along with my brothers and uncle. Because she was cremated, the burial process is less involved. Before the last shovels of dirt did their job, I placed a yellow rose (my mom's favorite flower) in the grave per my niece's request. (She wanted to do it but couldn't because it was too painful.) Of course, I was weepy.

Seconds after I placed the rose, my 20-month-old daughter grabbed a yellow rose from a nearby arrangement and placed it in my mom's grave. Then I was really weepy. I know. I know. She was just mimicking my actions, but it was a really special moment for me. One I wish my mother knew.

While Anna Zane doesn't remember meeting Deanna, I hope to teach Anna about her life and about how God works redemption in the most magnificent, unbelievable ways. So this one's for the two leading ladies of my life--my Anna & and my Deanna.