I Miss You

   As I was falling asleep last night, I realized that in one more year, I will have officially lived longer without my grandmother than I lived with her.  Isn't that a strange thing to think about?  I was very close to my grandmother.  We stayed many summers with her, and almost every weekend.  She is so much a part of who I am and my personal history, I can hardly believe I lived one moment without her.  Me without her, my family without her, is hard to comprehend, even now.  Yet, the moments keep coming, and time will not stop.  Doesn't it seem like the world should screech to a halt when someone wonderful to you dies?  But, it doesn't.  You say goodbye, and you go on, but something precious is gone, at least for now.  For the rest of my days on earth, I will live with a longing...longing to see her, to go back in time and hear her voice, touch her face, watch her hands at work.  It's the same longing I feel for my kids when they were babies.  Sometimes, I long to kiss their sweet baby faces and listen to their little baby noises.  But, those days are gone and I feel the ache in the same place I mourn the loss of my beloved grandma.

    Grief is such a strange process.  I believe God allows us to feel it in phases, so we're not completely overwhelmed with it all at once.  It surprises me the things I miss about my grandparents, and the things that make me think of them.  It could be a smell, or a song, or the way the breeze blows the curtains.  It only takes something little to bring me back to them...to their house, to my childhood, to that warm place of feeling completely safe and loved and cherished.  That's what's great about grandparents.  They make you feel cherished.  I think of my grandmother daily.  I think of her when I look at my kids, and when it's her birthday, all the times you would suspect.  But, I think of her at other times too...times that won't make sense to anyone but me.  I think of her when I eat watermelon or peel a potato.  I think of her when I fidget with a kleenex and roll it around my finger.  I think of her when I sing a hymn or hear a verse from the King James Bible.  I think of her when I hear a good joke.  I think of her when I eat blackberries or okra or green apples.  I miss her when I see paper dolls and when I sew.  I think of her when I open the freezer and see a frozen chicken (Looong story!).  I think of her when I see Indiana Jones with his whip (another interesting story).  Birds, breezes, cool days and rain all make me miss her.  Petunias, Four O' Clocks, Bachelor Buttons, sea shells and cactus gardens also make me think of her.  When I dust her piano, I think of her saying, "don't use too much spray!"  (If I was anything like Aidan, she had to tell me that because I would use half a can of spray on one piece of furniture!)  Wheel of Fortune and that weird hippy painter guy on TV remind me of her too.  In fact, I'm not sure if there are any of my childhood memories that don't involve her in some way.

     By far, my favorite memories are from when we would stay up long after everyone else had gone to bed and talk...about my friends, or school, or her childhood, or God and faith.  I had a lot of anxiety when I was a kid, and I often couldn't sleep.  She would sit with me in her brown recliner until I was able to fall asleep.  I miss her comforting presence.  I miss her soft eyes, her hands, her voice and her laugh.  It will be a happy day when I see her again.