(62) Delayed Reaction...

Ever had one of those? Like when someone punches you in the arm and it takes a few seconds for it to register that the hit did in fact hurt a bit? Or when someone cracks a joke and you still have a blank look on your face 5 seconds later, only to have the light bulb come on in a supernova way? OHHHHH! I get it!!

Yeah. That delayed reaction.

I had one of those in Target last night. (If you have kept up with previous posts, you will know Target seems to be a place of revelations for me. Must be the whole target, bills-eye thing.)

I know, I know. A delayed reaction is not a revelation... just hear me out.

So we had to make a Target run for moving supplies and moving-party supplies last night. Boxes need tape, movers need beer. As with most Targets (I believe), the card section is located in front and middle of the store. You basically have to pass by it everytime, unless you stay on the fringes of the store. And so we commenced to pass by it and the Mother's Day collection. Magnificently enough, I did not cringe. Instead, I remembered that I needed to get a card for my mom. Yes. I procrastinate.

We got what we needed... tape, furniture felt, beer, Oreos, cabinet pulls, etc... and headed to the card section. I found a card for mom in no time. It was at that time something hit me (remember this). My cousin and his wife just had their first baby girl on April 29th. This was very difficult for me to take in because I knew she was due a few weeks before me. I hadn't even thought about getting her anything. I have been so consumed in my grief that I failed to remember her. (As I have done with so many other friends and family who are mothers... yes, I suck). Without even thinking, I found the "New Mom" section. I flipped through the small selection not even noticing what I was doing. My mind was focused on finding a card, a cute one, just for her. Then, as if a sheet were being drawn back from a statue and you gasp from the sheer awesomeness, my heart realized what was happening (delayed reaction). A veil of sadness engulfed me and the words in the cards became blurred with tears.. my soul gasped. I tried so desperately to keep them back so I could focus on the goal. I was determined to find the perfect card. I think I picked through the selection a few more times, fumbling, pretending to be okay. I kept telling myself that I could do it. The tears were temporary. Just breathe. Don't lose it right here. You really don't want to have explain why you are in a heaving, wet mass on the floor. But deep down I wanted to be the one to receive that card. Or the card for "Mother-To-Be".

I finally just picked out a card. Not to gushy, but not too plain. I put the cards in the basket and we walked away. For a moment, my heart and mind forgot. Coping mechanism, they call it. To instantly forget something traumatic. It wasn't until we actually got back to the car that I realized what had just happened (delayed revelation). God had given me, for that moment, the gift of joy in my suffering. He held me in His hands and gave me the strength to do something He knew my heart desperately needed to do and was capable of... love.

We got home. Unpacked the loot. Brendon started boxing up our belongings again. And I sat at the dining room table with the cards.

Me, God, 4 Oreos, and a cup of milk.