My Grandma died this week. 1-10-16.
Up to now, I’ve had the extreme pleasure of having all four grandparents living. So this is a new experience. It’s weird. When people ask me how I’m doing, I’ve been responding: “I’m a mixture of a lot of conflicting and confusing feelings.” Obviously, I’m extremely sad. And also happy for my Grandma, because I know she’s hanging out with Jesus right now. I cry the most about my Grandpa, who has been married to my Grandma for 58 years, which doesn’t count all their years of going steady in high school and college. His eulogy for her was the most heart-breakingly beautiful thing I’ve heard.
So, in the midst of all of these up-and-down feelings, there are a few things I want to remember when I look back on these past few days:
-I found out while I was working at camp. When I talked with Dad on the phone, the sounds I was making were the same that two-year-old Ollie makes when he’s upset.
-Nora, the amazing, amazing Nora, brought me Kleenexes. Then chocolate cupcakes. Then a dish of peanut butter with a spoon, even though it’s forbidden at camp. A little bit later she gave me her stuffed whale to snuggle. She painted me a picture, using my favorite colors. Gave my Tylenol, in case I got a headache from crying. But the most amazing thing she did – a thing which everyone should do when comforting people, a thing that I have know idea how she thought of – was to bring in a blanket which she had warmed in the dryer and wrapped it around me before I went to bed. Oh my goodness is a warm blanket comforting!
-Suzi, that wonderful woman, came in and held me while I cried and let me talk through my feelings.
-God is taking care of my family. He so clearly held onto my Dad and Grandpa during this. The day after, my Dad chose to go to church and praise God for what He has been doing in our lives. That in itself is a miracle.
-Taylor and I did a song at the funeral. Come to Me, acoustic version. We did good. I made it through. Taylor only had to play the intro twice. It was definitely the words that needed to be declared. Grandpa clapped.
-Dad’s eulogy was perfect. I was laughing and crying at the same time.
I don’t really want to remember the way it felt the moment I found out she was gone. Or how Grandpa cried at the funeral. Or how Grandma’s chair is empty. Or how I cried going into the pantry to grab a snack, because I wasn’t getting the ingredients and making supper as Grandma directed me from my chair.
As of now, where I’ve landed with all these different feelings is that I’m not heartbroken, but this always missing someone is something I’ve never encountered.