Thursday, 06 October 2005
Today is the 2 year anniversary of when my grandmother, Yai, went home to be with Jesus. When she first died the pain was so sharp I couldn't even think of her without my eyes filling up with tears. She was such a sweet presence in our family, and there have been many moments in the past couple of years that I have thought of her and wished she were still with us. Each holiday, but especially Thanksgiving when we looked forward to her special mashed potatoes, is difficult. I miss her spidery handwriting across the bottom of birthday cards. Seeing the example that she and my grandfather, Dappie, set before us of a very loving, happy and content marriage. How she would shake her head and laugh at a funny story and say, "Oh _____! (insert name here)". The interesting stories she would tell of people she knew, or things she had done. The way she would cup my cheek in her hand when I kissed her in greeting. Her joy in E and how I know she would have loved N and found such pleasure in him as well. Her interest in my life and how I know she loved me. Her hospitality, opening her home to our family through the years for delicious dinners and get-togethers. I miss knowing that she is close by, to visit with or talk to. She was the first person to die that I had a deep attachment to, and love for. I know that she has such beauty and joy right now, but I still grieve our loss. At her funeral reception there was a slide show of her life that my uncle put together. The song that played throughout was "Going Home" by Sara Groves. I must of sat there and watched that show five times through (it was on a continuous loop), weeping each time. I still cry when I hear that song, because it reminds me of her. But I know we do not mourn her without hope. I might have said good-bye to her earthly body, but because of Jesus I can rejoice and have the assurance that I will see her smiling face again.