The House

September 29, 2009. Just another day for the whole entire world, except to me and my family. It was the day that my maternal grandma died. Up until then I had never lost someone that I had been really close to and loved a lot. It felt like my heart had broken, and it took a long time to feel normal again. But it was a new kind of normal, because life never is the same again when someone who had played a big part in your life is no longer around.

When I was grieving (and you know I don't think it ever stops) I tried to give my pain a name, a meaning if you will. I thought of it as a house, a house filled with lots of items and furniture, I guess a house of memories. Some days, most days, I would "stop by" the house, open the door and go inside and touch every item, look at it, reminisce on it. These were the days when the pain was great and the sorrow so heavy that my heart ached... literally ached. Other days, I would "pass by" the house, maybe glance at it and just keep walking. Those were the days that I felt calmer and the grief was bearable.

My mom, well, she'll never be the same. She was there with her mother, along with her sisters, caring for her as she was dying. She was there when she took her last breath, she was the one who cleaned her moms lifeless body before they came to take her. After that my mom said she would never let me or my brother do that for her, because of how badly it broke her heart. But who wouldn't do this kindness for a loved one? I wouldn't want some stranger to do it, and do it coldly at that!

I felt so bad that I wasn't there for my grandma, especially since we were very close. She told me things she didn't tell the other grand kids or even my mom for that matter. I listened to her old stories and we talked about anything and everything over endless cups of coffee. Sometimes I'd spend the night over her house, me, my mom, and my first daughter (I was a teen mom). I am so grateful that at least one of my children got to know her.  I am so sad that she missed out on meeting my two newest children.

While it doesn't exactly have the same meaning anymore, I still think about the house metaphor. But I can think about my grandma and still feel happy with the memories, and laugh about some of the things she did or said. I no longer need to keep her old things, I'm good with just the most important stuff. I guess I realized I don't need to keep tons of stuff to remember her.

But most importantly I look forward to seeing her again. A friend once told me that I would probably be one of the first ones to welcome her back since I wasn't able to be with her as she was dying. I wasn't able to go to her funeral either...we couldn't afford it. I cried like a baby over that. I still cry about it now.  The brothers lovingly made it so that I was able to listen in though. I will be forever grateful for that. But how I hope I can be one of the firsts to see her again, and introduce her to her great grandchildren.

Scriptures I found comforting and still do: Matthew 19:26 -Looking at them intently, Jesus said to them: “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

Luke 20:38- He is a God, not of the dead, but of the living, for they are all living to him.”
Job 14:14, 15- If a man dies, can he live again? I will wait all the days of my compulsory service until my relief comes. You will call, and I will answer you. You will long for the work of your hands.

And finally: 

3 With that I heard a loud voice from the throne say: “Look! The tent of God is with mankind, and he will reside with them, and they will be his people. And God himself will be with them. 4 And he will wipe out every tear from their eyes,and death will be no more,neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be anymore.The former things have passed away.” 

                                                    Revelaions 21:3,4

If you have a loved one who has passed away and would like to see them again in a paradise on earth please visit: www.jw.org to learn more.