See You Again
I lost my sweet grandma earlier this month. Everything that seemed difficult in my life up until that moment pales in comparison. Even now, three weeks later, it hits me like a ton of bricks at the most random times. I catch myself driving home from a perfectly fantastic day, when suddenly a song on the radio will remind me, and the past three weeks goes racing through my mind like a VHS on fast forward. I cry a lot in the car when no one can see. I feel like I have to be stronger, when in actuality I feel empty.
It was a Monday afternoon when my dad called me and said that things were not good. He was taking a flight to Michigan the next day to be with his mom. I prayed that he would get there in time to see her; even then, I knew that the odds weren’t good. A week later, he called me and said that I needed to get there as soon as I could. Kylie and I flew out the next morning. The plane could not fly fast enough. Our three hour layover in Chicago between North Carolina and Michigan felt like three years. It was there that I learned from my dad that she had passed away. I felt like someone had socked me in the gut. I sat in the terminal crying, while people passed by all around me, checking their emails and going about their lives, while I felt like my world had stopped spinning. I was devastated that I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.
The last letter that she wrote to me sat on my coffee table until after we came home from her funeral. It was written on yellow lined notebook paper in her tiny, strained handwriting. I had only read half of it at the time because I was busy with life, and I assumed that I would have time to do it later. Now, I think of the things that I would write back to her. I would like to tell her about my new job and how stressed I am about it. I would tell her about our new house in the country and how there are cows across the street. I would tell her that I have met the most amazing guy in the world and how I never thought that guys like him existed. I just want one more chance to talk to her. I wish that I had called more often. I miss her voice.
My dad seems so fragile right now. I know that he feels guilty and sad that he wasn’t there more often. I want to tell him the same things that he would tell me…that his mom knew that he loved her and that she is okay now. But words just don’t seem to be enough. As hard as this is for me, I cannot imagine how he feels.
Everything has been so chaotic for me lately. I am barely home because I am so busy with my new store. Planning my move is stressful. The new boyfriend is keeping me sane. I am a firm believer that God gives us certain people at the right time to help us get through things. For whatever reason, he hasn’t run away yet, and unlike the other guys that I have dated in my past, I have stopped expecting him to do exactly that. Maybe I’m crazy, but this feels different. And above all, I’m pretty sure that my grandma would approve.
I miss her.
