It's hard to believe that Granny's been dead a month. I can't believe how slow time is moving. It feels like I'm fighting against a slow current, yet the water is rushing all around me. As I reflected on the somber anniversary, I realized that "die" is the last action verb. No matter what you've done or will do in your life, once you die, that's it. Every other verb used about you will be in the past tense.
I called my uncle to check on him. I worry about him now that Granny's gone. He said he was okay, but he misses her. I do, too. We talked about this process of grieving, and he gave me some helpful insight. He lost his 41-year-old wife of two years to cancer 14 years ago. He told me that it's the finality of the situation that hurts the most. When it finally dawns on you that the person you love won't ever be back, it can be a devastating experience.
My uncle also described my grandmother's final days. He said she was in a lot of pain. While she recognized him, her mind was confused. When he'd talk about my mom or my brother or me, she could recall the names but not the relationships. The last time he saw her, he knew she was on her way out. Even though he misses her, he's glad she isn't suffering anymore. It was hard to hear, but it seems like death was actually a blessing for Granny. Not only is she out of her misery, she's home with Jesus and those who went on before her. We're not sad for her -- we're sad for ourselves.
Now comes the hard part for us -- making sure that we don't allow the grief to bring us to our last action verb...
I called my uncle to check on him. I worry about him now that Granny's gone. He said he was okay, but he misses her. I do, too. We talked about this process of grieving, and he gave me some helpful insight. He lost his 41-year-old wife of two years to cancer 14 years ago. He told me that it's the finality of the situation that hurts the most. When it finally dawns on you that the person you love won't ever be back, it can be a devastating experience.
My uncle also described my grandmother's final days. He said she was in a lot of pain. While she recognized him, her mind was confused. When he'd talk about my mom or my brother or me, she could recall the names but not the relationships. The last time he saw her, he knew she was on her way out. Even though he misses her, he's glad she isn't suffering anymore. It was hard to hear, but it seems like death was actually a blessing for Granny. Not only is she out of her misery, she's home with Jesus and those who went on before her. We're not sad for her -- we're sad for ourselves.
Now comes the hard part for us -- making sure that we don't allow the grief to bring us to our last action verb...
Comments
Here's what I don't want: Action words like worried, cried, hurt, and scared to precede that action verb, died. As long as I can get some other action words, like laugh, smile, love, kiss, hug, bought, relax, make love (I had to throw that in there), marry, and cash checks, in before that last action verb happens, I'll be all good.
**Yes, I know the way I wrote the above comment was a mess. Grammar and writing styel just ain't my friend tonight. But I think you get my point.**
Love ya,
A