Anniversary
This morning I woke up in a little bit of a funk...a little off. I couldn't figure out why. I mean I got a perfectly good nights sleep, but still I was a little off; a little unfocused. Then I got to work, looked at the calendar, and realized exactly what it was. Twenty-one years ago today, I lost the very first piece of my heart. I was 5 years old. As a matter of fact, it was 2 months exactly to the day before I turned 6 when my maternal grandmother passed away. There are lots of things I remember about that day. They are mini-snapshot movies in my memory that I see quite vividly. It still hurts...that kind of emotional hurt that you can actually physically feel in your heart. She and I share middle names and it's something I've always cherished because it feels like I have a special part of her that no one else could ever have. I had to learn at an early age what death was all about, and it certainly wasn't easy. I didn't understand everything, then, but I did understand that she wasn't coming back, that she couldn't hug me, that I wouldn't see her smile or hear her laugh. I think about her often, but I think about her a lot more on her birthday and on the anniversary of her death. Most of the time when I think about her it's for selfish reasons like wishing I could talk to her about some boy I like or wondering what she'd think of me all grown up and independent. Would she be proud? Would we be close? Even though we may feel her life was too short, I always try to think about the idea that God called her home all those years ago because her smile had lit up this world as long as He saw fit and that He needed that smile to light up Heaven. I've felt her presence many times during my life...during highs and lows...during graduations and other milestones, but no matter how many times I might feel her with me spiritually, it never takes away the pain of June 10th and how desperately I wish just one more time that she could sit next to me, laugh with me, hold my hand, and smile.
posted by Leann @ Friday, June 10, 2005
3 comments
3 Comments:
I feel very similarly about my grandmother. She died July 9th 25 yrs ago, when I was nearly 30. But years earlier, when I was four, and she was very sick in bed, she said to me, now don't cry, I'll get well. I said what will I do if you don't get well. She said, oh you'll go on and have the wonderful life you are meant to have, and soon you won't remember me. I cried and cried and swore to her I would always remember. And so I do. Like you.
It's "funny" how the people in our lives always think that after they're gone, we'll go on with our lives and forget about them. It's always seemed to me that those are people in our lives that we never forget.
I think it's because they are at peace with life and with death. They don't need to be remembered, b/c they know what is coming next. They only want to be remembered if they think it'll help the people who remember them, but if not, then they don't care, b/c they are strong in faith. They are the opposite of rulers who built/build monuments to their own glory. But I do know my grandmother quoted scripture all the time, and she would be very happy to think that people remembered the scriptures themselves. She also gave me the great desire to be a grandmother, and I really look forward to that time in my life because of her wonderful example. But one thing for sure, she worked a lot harder than I have the energy to do. Whew.
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