I wish I had the foresight to preserve everything I know from all of the lives of loved ones I’ve known. The type of eyesight to take everything in and frame it on the walls of my memory. You know? So that on the days that are hard, the walk through memory lane is one of instant joy and remembrance, and that this life is a good, good life. Because this life is good. Real good.
The lessons we learn through the changing seasons are the lessons we need to keep moving forward. We can’t just live in the good times, or even in the bad times. It’s just how God made it. If winter lasted too long, we would forget the joy that the bright green blades of grass through the snow bring. Or the new baby calves resting on the hills? How about the blazing sun rises? A statement that Spring has sprung.
Fall is the same way. The letting go so that something new can bloom. At least that’s what grandma said. Just before she died a few short weeks ago. What an awesome privilege it was to go to her bedside and love on her. When it was just us, we shared the things we wanted most for the other to know. Her children and grands formed a sort of honor guard around her those last days. Liquid love and memories spilled freely down our faces. The funny thing is? She hardly cried.
Grandma was the type of person that could listen without judgement. Counsel without scorn and love us all the way through to better decisions, all the while saying, “Now what are you going to learn from this? It’s yours now to deal with.” Grandma was the type of person that wasn’t super long on words. Don’t get me wrong, she could talk, but she was huge on accepting responsibility. We were raised to take ownership of ourselves and our actions. No excuses. She treated each person is if they were the only person in the room. Her grandchildren and her children could even say that we all felt like we were “the favorite.” She made us feel that way, because she lived it. Close to the end she told us that this was her time. She lived and loved well and she had zero regrets. There is NO doubt with her last breath she let us know...We were her favorite.
And this fall we are learning that it is our time to bloom.
Hallelujah, grandma—grandma-great—Mom—friend—confidant—encourager...
you are home.
