Four Years of Missing You

Prior to Tuesday, May 19, 2015, I was so hopeful for that year.  But that morning, I got a text message that shocked me to my core.  Granny had a stroke.  A couple of hours later, I got a phone call telling me that I should come home...there probably wasn't much time.

Alone in my car for five hours as I drove across the state of Missouri, I had a while to think.  I thought of every good thing about my Granny...how she loved others, how she cared for others, how she never thought twice about doing kind things for others.  She was a servant.  I thought a lot about my own life.  Where was it going?  What good thing did I have going?  My relationship with Jesus was more of an SOS-relationship.  I called on Him when I needed Him.

At that point, my mom had been inviting me to BSF (Bible Study Fellowship). Although we lived hours apart, the study was offered in St. Louis...in several different locations.  I had looked into it, but I never jumped at the chance to go.  She continued to invite me for four years.

I remember so vividly making a decision in my car that I was going to turn my life around...quit living for myself...and I was going to work on my relationship with Jesus.  I made a commitment that day to seek out a BSF class.  Unfortunately, BSF is on a schedule that coincides with the school schedule.  So they had already let out for summer break, and I had to wait until September to join.

I got to the hospital with time to spare, because she was still talking.  Her eyes were closed, but she was talking.  Her speech was slurred because half of her body was paralyzed, but she knew who I was and she automatically asked about Tyler.  He was in Detroit that week for work and wasn't with me. I talked to her. I held her hand.  I don't know how much longer it was before she didn't respond...it may have been a few hours.

My family is large.  We are weird.  We do things differently.  But we love Jesus.  The majority of us got to be there with her at the hospital...in her room...for days.  The staff at the local hospital was very kind to us in allowing us ALL to be there.  I grew up in a small town, so most of the staff knew us anyway.  But that's one thing I won't forget in all of this...the kindness they showed to us.

Granny taught little kids at church.  In fact, the Sunday prior, she was teaching.  She also taught a Sunday School for adults with mental disabilities.  She loved singing with her kids and adults.  She loved to sing with her grandkids.

Remember how I said we are weird?  One of the first holidays that Tyler spent with my extended family, a sheet of paper was passed out with music on it.  We gathered in a circle and sang before we prayed for the meal.  I'm surprised he's still around, in all honesty!! :)

So while Granny was in the hospital, we sang to her...hymns, children's songs, our family song...we even wrote the words to her favorite hymn on the hospital board. :)  I told you...we are weird.

We didn't know what to expect. We didn't know when Jesus would call her home.  So that evening, we all prayed together before we left the hospital.  We said our "see ya laters," and we headed home for some sleep.

It was a long few days.  On Thursday, my husband finally had made his trip to me.  He arrived at Granny's house at the same time the ambulance brought Granny home.  Granny absolutely hated hospitals and doctors.  We knew that she would rather be at home.  So we got permission to bring her home with the care of a hospice nurse.

We gathered in her home with no care of how quiet we should have been.  Granny loved her crazy family, and she would have loved having us all there.  Unfortunately, it was a party to send her Home.  The girls were celebrating awaiting her Homecoming with a tea party...which she also would have loved so very much.

On Friday, May 22, 2015, shortly after sunrise (her favorite time of day), Jesus called her Home.  I was truly so happy that she was no longer suffering here. But in the months to come, I was literally heartbroken.

Fall of 2015, I joined my first study in BSF.  That year, we were studying Revelation.  If you're not familiar with BSF, it is a very in-depth study.  I had no clue what I had gotten myself into.  Fast forward to December and we moved to Oklahoma City.  I knew that I wanted to finish out the study because it was so good.  I joined a class here, and I'm so glad I did!

As I look back on what Revelation taught me...it's that Granny was in heaven with her Savior.  As much as she loved her family, she loved her Jesus more.  She wouldn't want to come back here after meeting Him.  I was okay with that.





Grief is a funny thing.  There's no time limit on it.  It can come in quickly.  It can leave quickly.  And on days you think you're doing okay...it can break you all over again.

The first year after she was gone was the hardest for me.  We had so many life transitions.  I think what made it the hardest was living away from my family, and when I would come back home, I had to face the fact that she wasn't here anymore.  At the same time, my husband was gone every week for work, and I was by myself...with my dog.  Scout was a good listener, but sometimes I wished he could have given me some advice.

Healing has been a slow process, but I'm in a much better place than I was.  For so long, it was all I thought about.  I tried to self-medicate with food...but it wasn't a good filler.  Four years later, and I'm still trying to untangle myself from some of the things that I chose to do during my time of grieving and depression.

Last year, Tyler and I booked a trip to Europe over this date.  It was the best decision.  I had happy thoughts, and I kept thinking of the things that I would have told her about our trip.  She loved to hear trip reports from the grandkids.

But this year has been a little more difficult.  Another life change...and there are so many times that I wish I could call her and tell her that we're having a baby boy.  She would be so excited.

When I was about 8 or 9, Granny and Grandpa took me with them to see hot air balloons.  I don't know why I remember this trip, and I don't remember too many details.  But every time I see a hot air balloon, I think of them.  The day we left for Europe, I saw a hot air balloon.

At 19 weeks, we had our anatomy scan.  It was on a Wednesday morning.  On that previous Sunday morning, I saw a hot air balloon on our way to church.  It was still cold that morning, so I have no idea why they were out.  My mom had come down that week, and on the day she left to go back home, I saw another hot air balloon.

I may be completely off my rocker, but that day, I was sad.  That was the day that I wanted to call her and tell her our good news.  So I talked to God instead...and I told Him that I wasn't sure how it worked in heaven, but if He could please tell Granny that we were having a baby and that it was a boy, that I'd appreciate it. :)

Truth is...I miss her.  I miss her like crazy.  I have so many wonderful memories with her, and I'm thankful for those.  But some days are still hard.  Today is one of those days.

If there's anything that I've learned in the last four years, it's that no one can tell you how to grieve.  No one can tell you that time is up and it's time to move on.  Life does move on, and we learn to cope with our new normal.  The pain gets easier to deal with...but it's still there.  The tears don't come as often, but when they do come, it's okay to cry. <3