You won't get the chance to hear the things I am about to say. Part of me is okay with that, part of me isn't. You see, today is October 1st, and you passed away two days ago. So why am I writing you a letter? Because this is my final goodbye.
Growing up, I remember many Saturdays going to the Zion Burger King for breakfast, then spending the day in search of a good buy, either at a Garage Sale or at one of your many Craft Shows. I learned a lot about being a good neighbor and friend by watching the way you interacted with your fellow crafters, and as I grew up you taught me how to be a good helper by running your own crafting booth as well as helping your friends get theirs set up or torn down. You came to watch my performances with Passion Play and CYT, and I loved having you there. You also helped to nurture in me a love for Diagnosis Murder, Murder she Wrote, and other fun mystery shows that Mom and I would watch with you. I couldn't begin to fathom what life would be like without you there as a rock of common sense, support, and wisdom.
When you moved to Wisconsin to be closer to Uncle Don and Aunt Robin's kids, I was really jealous at first. You were my Grandma, and I didn't want to share you with anybody! It took me some time, but I came around. You were an awesome Grandma, and despite the fact that I wanted you all to myself, I was glad that you got to be that amazing Grandma to Jonah. Then Noah. Then Elijah, and Micah and Mercy. I missed you, and I was never the best at keeping in touch, but I loved it when we would come to visit you. Even from a distance, you were supportive through good and bad decisions I made in life. I knew you were praying for me, and that gave me comfort when I went through hard times.
I believe I was a senior in High School when we got the news; you had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I didn't know what to say; I had seen on TV what happened to people who suffered from this disease, and i was afraid of the day you would not know who I was. We still came to visit you, and you were still my Grandma. Nothing seemed to be drastically changing, and so I figured that this would be a slow process, that it would age with you, and you wouldn't get "that bad" for many more years.
The last time I had seen you was when Jaina was 5 months old. we came up to visit you so you could meet your first great granddaughter. Although she won't remember this for a little while yet, I know she was very excited to meet you. I was excited for you to meet Haddy after she was born, and that was going to be at my mom's birthday and retirement party.
I almost didn't know you when you walked in the door, Grandma. When I saw you, I could see that things were getting to you, and my heart ached to hug you and tell you that I would be there for you too, and that no matter how bad things got I would be there. I don't know what it was, but something held me back. Maybe I was afraid of losing you, maybe I was trying to keep the image of my grandma the way I wanted her, and I didn't want to face a reality where Grandma was that sick. I don't know what it was, but I held back, and busied myself with other things. I kept tabs on you through my mom, and when the opportunity came to visit for Christmas, I chickened out and made excuses. I told myself that I was keeping the Grandma I remembered alive in my mind by not seeing her at her worst, but the truth is I was selfish. I didn't want to face the possibility that I would go to hug you, and you would look at me blankly, not knowing who I was. I couldn't face the fact that you were starting to head down a path that would be very difficult, both on you and the rest of us. I didn't want to deal with it, and so I avoided it.
This last Saturday was much like the Saturdays I would have spent with you; we had made plans with my parents to spend the day with the girls. It was while we were out spending time that Uncle Don sent the message that you were fading, and Mom rushed up to see you. Sean offered to take off work so I could go, but again I let my fear get the best of me and I stayed behind. I felt like time had frozen between the place of hope that everything would be fine in the end and knowing that it wouldn't be long before you were gone forever. Sunday evening, dad called to let me know you had passed. So many thoughts rushed through my head that I didn't know what to do. I was relieved that you didn't have to suffer anymore, and in shock that you were gone. I was glad that you got to be with Grandpa again, but I wanted my Grandma back. As I am writing this, I know it won't fully hit me until I am at the funeral that you are truly gone. Part of me is glad that the only times I've seen you were good times, and part of me hates myself for running away when you needed a loving family.
You were loved Grandma, I know that for sure. I have never been the best at expressing emotions to those who are in my family, and I regret to say that I don't say what needs to be said enough. It is by the grace of God that I was lucky enough to be a part of this family, and there have been times I haven't acted very grateful. But I loved you Grandma, although I didn't say it often enough. And so, if in my goodbye to you, I can learn anything, it would be to appreciate what I have. I have been blessed with amazing parents, who went through a heck of a lot to be able to have me in the first place. I have been blessed with Aunts and Uncles, who have watched me grow up and taught me things about Harleys and Coca Cola. I have been blessed with some amazing cousins, who all have their own unique talents and gifts. My regret is that I don not spend enough time with any of you, or appreciate you being in my life anywhere near enough.
And so, Grandma, I say goodbye to you. You will be missed here on earth.
Lamentations 3:20-23 (New Living Translation)
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Lamentations 3:20-23
New Living Translation (NLT)
20 I will never forget this awful time,
as I grieve over my loss.
21 Yet I still dare to hope
when I remember this:
as I grieve over my loss.
21 Yet I still dare to hope
when I remember this:
22 The faithful love of the Lord never ends![a]
His mercies never cease.
23 Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.
His mercies never cease.
23 Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.
