What a long week. I feel like this week in particular dragged on; but the odd thing is, I felt God's embrace around me throughout the entire time. Like there was a warmth surrounding me, a tightness of someone's arm around my shoulders, just pushing my body through the next thing on my checklist.
I never had a close relationship with my grandmother. We lived so far away from each other so it made it difficult. So when she passed away last Sunday my head and my heart began a civil war within my body, that I feel only God's embrace has started to remedy. I wasn't sure how to feel. She's my first grandparent to pass away but she was also 92 years old. I should be so lucky to live that long. I thought about the opportunities I passed up to spend time with her, or write her or call her. I thought of how often I had figured I had so much time...not sure where I thought that "time" was coming from a woman who was 92. I guess I just didn't know. I mean, who does, really? So many things I didn't know and don't know, including how to react or grieve. It's a new process for me and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be doing it.
But these are the things I do know:
1- She was a die hard USC fan, loved anything Irish and I probably got not only my stubbornness, but my passion for Ireland from her. She always had to have bright red nails and lipstick; had closets upon closets of stuff (including menorah candles) for "just in case" purposes (Depression baby). She loved children and loved teaching and was a very devote Catholic.
2- She loved me. As much as I couldn't truly wrap my mind around that fact, she loved me very deeply. I could hear it in her voice every time she called; I could sense the pain her heart felt, knowing she'd never really be close to me. I know she loved me very much and I am just now realizing how much.
3- God loved her. God loves us all. OK, duh. But even throughout my reservations (for various reasons) to be close to her, God was. He loved her very much and for that reason I am writing my entry today.
I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I mourn my own selfishness. I mourn the loss of my grandmother for my grandfather, who is left behind; for my mother, who is there watching grandfather struggle; and for my aunt and uncle who are mourning in their own ways. I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I think about all that could have been. And I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I couldn't see her the way God did.
Lent has only begun and I have decided to change my promise. In light of the little Irish lady, I called "Grammie", I pray that I treat people with the love God does and see them as He does. Because at the end of the day, God doesn't care about USC, bright red nails or closets of clothes; He cares about the relationships we're building and how we're choosing to show His love through our actions. I miss her. It's an odd feeling, but while I'm teaching specifically, I feel her. I feel her looking down on me, giggling at my students when they say something silly or smiling at me as I make her proud working with a population she loved so much. I feel closer to her now than I ever did before. And now I'm trying to love her the way God does; without reservation and without judgment.
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