It’s been a year. It’s been a year since I’ve seen her round face and strong dimples. It’s been a year since I’ve heard her sweet, gentle voice call my name.
As I sat on the plane, headed to her house, all I wanted to do was crawl up on her bed and tell her all the things that she missed this year. My first year of marriage to the most wonderful man, my new job and our new apartment. She missed multiple shoe shopping expeditions and candy runs... mostly because I didn’t do them since she wasn’t here. The plan this weekend was to do all the things that we would have done if she were here: buy a pair of shoes... preferably on sale. (If they are cheap enough, she’d tell me to buy two!) Go to the candy store and buy one of every kind that I like because life is too short to just choose ONE. Go to the dollar store and buy a good pen... or maybe a few pens and figure out which one is the best. Buy a bowl or a plate or a cup. Really whatever is pretty. It doesn’t have to match what I already have because it’s more about it being beautiful than matching. Watch a good cooking show and maybe go get a taco at 10:00 at night just because the craving came to me. The plan was to eat good food and not feel guilty about the calories, because let’s be honest: calories at Gramma’s house don’t count. Finally, I wanted to read about the goodness of the Lord and pour over his psalms highlighting places where he talks about heaven and healing because she has journals upon journals that do the same.
Yet, there are some things that are impossible to do. Drive all the way into downtown because we missed our exit due to excessive talking and laughing. Fall asleep next to her on her bed while we watch some crazy action movie. Recount old memories or days gone by. Watch back to back dollar movies to fill an entire afternoon.
Let’s just say I tried to do all of these things to no avail. I TRIED to go buy a pair of shoes, but couldn’t find one that I really liked. I TRIED to go buy 20 pieces of different kids of candy, but the Target we always went to has since gotten rid of that section of the store. I TRIED to go buy a pretty bowl, but Ross had a line with literally 100 people in it (and I would have had to find the FIND OF THE CENTURY to get me to stand in it). I walked away from Saturday a bit sad that I couldn't honor Grammee this way. But then mom put it all into perspective: if I could hear from Grammee right now, she would tell me to store up my treasures in heaven because at the end of life, they are just shoes gaining dust in a closet.
I guess it boils down to this: I always want to remember. I vividly remember the talks we would have about boys and how I shouldn’t keep secrets from my mom. I remember peeking into her room and she would be pouring over Scripture. I remember that she would get on facebook just to keep in touch with her grandkids. The woman I remember, I never want to forget, because I hope one day to be just like that woman.
Thank you Grammee for showing me how to walk with Jesus... miss you Grams.
I've never had a gran. She sounds like a very special lady and you a very blessed girl! What wonderful, precious memories.
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