Sometimes life hits you like a ten pound bag of bricks. And sometimes it is the simplest of things that brings up the strongest of emotions.
I mentioned to my sweet boyfriend that I wanted us to go visit my Grandpa in Arkansas this Christmas. My great Grandma lives with him and he has yet to meet her and as each day passes I am reminded that time slips through fingers like sand and each day is a new grace and you just never know what a day will hold. And I long for the man I love to meet this wonderful woman I love.
We don't even have real dates yet, just tossed around talked about dates, not a sure trip. And I'm sitting on my bed with the comforter she made me and it hits me. The one I love will never meet the Grandma I was closest to. And suddenly a trip for my sweet boyfriend to meet the mother of my favorite Grandma hits home and tears fall hot and heavy and I grieve the time that was lost and the time to be that will never be shared with her.
I think of giving my sweet boyfriend a tour of the house, her house, that is no longer hers but now my Grandpa's new wife's. And my Grandpa's new wife is nice and kind but she is not my Grandma and each change of the house is a vicious stab at my heart that reminds me that she is no longer here, that this is no longer her house. And my mind wanders through the rooms of the house that she loved and I remember painfully each detail of each room that is no longer as it used to be and tears fall faster and I wonder what else has changed in the time since I have last gone. I wonder if I will ever be able to manage a trip to that house alone.
And I suppose that when your heart is grieving afresh a loss that is old that that is when Abba Father is wrapping His arms around you tightest and there is no need to explain because He understands and sometimes a good cry is all you need. And grieving is a messy process, not clear and laid out like I would like, but something that can hit you after nothing has phased you for months. And it can be as simple as seeing a cookie jar shaped like a rooster or making your first quilt and realizing your Grandma would have been so proud of you.
And I am thankful. Thankful for tears that wash relief and thankful for memories that, while painful at times, bring more joy than pain and thankful that I was able to make those memories. Thankful that my Grandma is with Jesus and thankful that one day I will be there too. Thankful that my Great Grandma is still here and praying that my sweet boyfriend will be able to meet her. Thankful that each day is new, that He is good, that His grace endures. Thankful for love and for family and for ties that bind, for a cross and three nails, for blood spilled, for bodies healed from cancer and the hope of the future. Thankful for a boyfriend who will wrap his arms around me and let me cry, thankful that he does not try to rationalize it, doesn't tell me it will get better but just lets me cry. Thankful that my Heavenly Father is wrapping His arms around my Grandma and that His plans are always greater than our own and that those plans are of peace and hope and that the same God who is holding my Grandma is holding me.