Losing my Grandma

When I learned on Thursday that my grandma had passed away, I was surprised by the tears that came on so suddenly after I hung up the phone with the news. This had been expected and in some ways, even wanted by my grandma herself. She was a woman with such a deep love for her Savior. This was often expressed in her music or words that she would write in letters to her family. She had lost my grandpa six years before and her heart was ready to join him and her Lord in heaven. She was ready to be made perfect. She had already experienced many strokes. Yet, her body continued to stay strong and she would amazingly recover and continued to play the piano until a week before she died. When she was brought to Topeka, exactly a month before her death, the doctors had said it would not be long. We were SO blessed to get quality time with her. She recovered better than they ever thought possible from the bleeding around her brain. She was able to write a letter to each of her children and even her fifteen grandchildren. My father (her eldest son) was able to be at her side and write letters as she dictated to other family and even the Manor where she had spent the last years of her life. EVERY child and grandchild was able to come to Topeka in this time and spend some time at her side. She died peacefully and even rather quickly. It was what most people would say to be the ideal way to die. Yet, as I entered the church to attend the funeral on Sunday, I felt anything but peace.

My emotions were ALL over the place today. I was actually happy for my grandma that she had lived a full life and was now experiencing the joy of being in the presence of God. There was also so much joy in my heart as I was surrounded by the people that I love so dearly. As the hugs began, the tears began to form. I tried SO hard to fight them, but it was too late. As the floodgates opened, it was hard to stop. I felt guilty that my tears were only a little for my grandma, and mostly for Rich. There were just so many bittersweet memories. I had shared some very special moments with Rich at the bedside of my grandpa before he had died. I also remember so vividly singing with Rich as he played the guitar at my grandpa's funeral. AND, there were the times we were able to make it up to the tiny town of Miltonvale to attend my grandma's small church of Senior Citizens. She was so sweet and overly praised our efforts when we would sing for their "special" on Sunday mornings. She also took the time and GREAT effort to write me letters after Rich had died to offer encouragement and love as she could relate first hand what it felt like to lose the love of her life. Her words would always direct me to our FIRST love--Christ and remind me that we would soon be reunited. My grandma dying seemed to make sense. Not having Rich there to be by my side through it all did not make any sense at all. The natural order of life was all messed up.

It was not only him not being there that was hard, but the memories of his own funeral began to surface. All of these feelings that I thought I had dealt with and let go were stirring back up. I began to fight the urge to walk out of the church and keep myself from letting the tears turn into sobbing. Death has forever taken on a whole new and very personal meaning to me. Even though I could rejoice in the fact that my Grandma was in heaven, I could not help but think that a part of me wished it were me. To be done with the sufferings of this world and the daily battle of learning to trust over and over again. Ahhh, how I look forward to those days.

The hardest part about the day was struggling with my feelings of "if only". I was just wishing I had the opportunity to tell Rich good-bye that I had with my grandma. If only I had been able to have even one minute with him. If only he had died of some illness where I could have been at his side and spent precious moments praying with him and telling him how much I loved him over and over again. I HATE, just hate that he was pulled away from me so suddenly. I know it would have been hard to watch him die slowly, but selfishly, I want those days. Even though I have never enjoyed the "viewing" of a body at a funeral (because really it is just an empty shell), I wish others had been able to have the opportunity to look at more than just a picture of Rich. There just seems like there is no closure. I wonder what his last thoughts were or if he even had the chance to realize this was the end.

This funeral brought back SO much pain. I am exhausted from it all. I just want it to all go away and for my life to begin again. There are days that things are going so well and I can focus on my purpose here on earth and trust God completely with my life and heart. And then, there are days like this. Will it ever go away? Am I going to live fifty more years with this knot in my stomach that continues to resurface whenever a memory is triggered? Most days I feel like I am moving forward and doing well with it all. But then there is another "first", and I start all over again.

I will choose, yet again, to trust Him with my life and my future. Even though, on a day like this, it looks quite dismal, I know there is hope in Him! One of my Grandma's favorite passage in her last days was Psalm 91. It is one that I have marked in my book of paraphrased Psalms. It says...

That one whose faith is focuse on God,
Who finds security in Him,
Does not have to live in fear.
He is not left untouched by the tempests of this life,
And he may be wounded by the onslaughts of evil,
But his great God does not leave him to suffer these things alone.
The Lord cares for His own and delivers him even in the midst of the conflicts that plague him

If God is truly your God,
You do not have to be afraid of the enemy that threatens or the affliction that lays you low.
Men all about you may fall, never to rise again,
But the Lord is by your side to raise you to your feet and to lead you to ultimate victory.

Even in the ministering spirits of His invisible world are watching over you.
They will not allow anything to hurt you except by God's loving permission and through His eternal concern.

Our loving God has promised it:
"Because My child loves Me, I will never let him go.
I shall feel the pain of his wounds and bear his hurt and shall transform that which is ugly into that which enriches and blesses.
And when he cries out in agony, I shall hear and answer him.
I will be close to him and will deliver him,
and I will grant him eternal life."


I need to use truth in my life daily to fight the lies that creep into my head. This morning as I was out running, I almost had a panic attack as my mind wondered into the "what ifs" of my future. I started questioning whether I had enough love for God to handle it if I were to lose even more precious people in my life. For a brief moment, I thought about losing Ethan. Would I trust God enough with that as well? I remember Rich and I discussing the possibility and how we had to hold him at arm's length remembering that he was not really ours, but that he belonged to God. We loved him with all of our hearts, but also looked at him as a gift on loan to us. I thought it would break my heart, but with God's strength I could handle losing him if that was His will. When Rich died, I remember thinking, I don't think I ever thought about Rich being on loan to me the way I did Ethan. Why didn't I pray that over him as well? I was NOT big enough to handle losing him, but God WAS! As I stopped to pray, I realized that as much as I tried to control my life, I was in much better hands allowing God to take charge. So, even though I don't know how I could ever face another sudden loss in my life, I am taking it one day at a time. I choose NOT to live my life in fear of the "what ifs". I pray that I would embrace the truths of Psalm 91 in my life.