Saying Goodbye

I have dreaded today since July 5th. We knew that we would have to make it official and say our goodbyes, and move forward, I just didn't realize how hard it was going to be. I have quickly learned that each person that departs this life for the here-after, whatever that might be, that you grieve for each person differently.

When my Gangie died, I remember being numb. I can't remember much from the days and weeks after his death. I know that most nights I drove around and did my newspaper route, crying like my heart was broken. Which it was.

When my grandmother died, I remember the numb feeling, but I also remember the grief for my childhood. She was a big part of so many different memories, and the more I have developed a love for cooking, the more I miss her. It was still heart breaking, but I don't remember feeling numb, our relationship was different then.

When Grandpa past away in April, it was different. We weren't as close, and I didn't feel the impact like I did with my own grandparents, whom I had a very, very close relationship with. So it was normal. It felt normal.

Yet with Papa, because it's so recent and so new, and because of my own special relationship with him, it's mind numbing again. It's exhausting. I find myself going to bed at night and getting up the next day and I feel like I haven't slept in days. Then I look at my father-in-law and his sisters and can't even begin to imagine how hard it is to lose a parent. I know that your supposed to bury your parents and never your children, but I don't think that either can be easy. I don't think that there is any cure all, other than time.

What makes this so hard is the fact that it feels like we have drug this all out since July 4th. We are just beginning. Even though he's officially been gone since the 16th, until Friday, he won't be really gone.

Amazingly so, I'm looking forward to the memorial service. I'm looking forward to listening to my father in law, and his sisters tell stories about their dad. I'm looking forward to the family that will be gathering to celebrate his life. I'm looking forward to the new memories that we will be making and sharing with our kids and with our cousins kids later.

Because like it or not, death is a part of life, and without an ending, life would be meaningless.

The Beauty

Life has thrown us a lot of curve balls here lately.  First the challenges of making a choice about school, then the month of October, my grandmother’s recent trip to the emergency room, and yesterday…  Well yesterday was more like a curve ball and a hard ball all at the same time.  See, my husband’s grandfather, Jerry, has learned that he is in for the fight of his life.  Or maybe for his life.  He was diagnosed with lung cancer yesterday.

Thankfully, his grandfather has chosen to “fight like hell”, to beat this disease, and I hope like hell that he wins.  But, that little voice in my head, the one that makes me think too much, and be realistic tries to give into that “what if”.  He hasn’t been to the oncologist yet, so next week, there could be news that none of this family wants to hear.  I don’t want to be the one who has these negative thoughts, I want to be able to tell my husband and have complete faith in the “it’s all going to be OK.”  Yet realistically, I don’t know that, and frankly there could be another curve ball down the road that we aren’t ready for.

I’m also saddened by the fact that this is the second person that John will have watched struggle with lung cancer, which is believed to have been brought own by their own poor choices.  See, John’s uncle and namesake, was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2002, and he lost that fight a year later.  While Jerry’s family doctor wasn’t able to tell him that it was specifically caused from being a smoker for 50 years, he was able to tell him that it didn’t help.  Two people, whom we both love, who could have prevented these diseases, and yet, they choose a different path. Then it makes me wonder why people are so lax with their health and their bodies.

Trust me, I’m just as guilty, although I don’t smoke, I don’t eat as well as I should, I’m overweight, I don’t exercise regularly (thanks school), and I don’t handle stress well.  All of those things don’t prove that I will live a long and healthy life either.  Yet I always find it ironic that it takes something like a death or a life changing disease for people to realize and understand how precious life is, and how valuable their own life is.

Yet on one hand, my heart aches.  You see, between John and I we know at least 4-5 more people who have made the same choices, who may face their own experience like this.  It saddens me that as the shock of our grandfather’s own fight wore on, that the fact that these other people in our lives, may be forced to walk down the same path.

Today, as I write this post, and try to find the words that will hopefully bring myself, and perhaps John comfort, I’m reminded of a lot of things.  Things that I hope I can remember in the coming months, as our faith, strength, patience, and understanding are tested.

See, no matter what happens, there is beauty in the midst of this whole situation.  There is still plenty to celebrate, instead of grieving for the what-if – that may never happen.  As odd as it sounds, this is a blessing.  It’s a chance for the family to grow and to be reminded of what’s important in their own lives.  And as unfair as life sometimes is, it’s a chance to mend broken hearts and relationships and to say goodbye.  Because frankly none of us are guaranteed tomorrow, it’s not a matter of if, but when.

Even in the darkest of hours, when you ask – God shows up in the most unlikely of places.  In the midst of this seeming tragedy, there is a blessing.  We just have to see the beauty.

~Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

~ Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.  ~Confucius

~ Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.  ~Leo Buscaglia

~ I know God will not give me anything I can't handle.  I just wish that He didn't trust me so much.  ~Mother Teresa