Monday, September 9, 2013

Not Everyone Will Be Healed

I've been sitting on this post for the longest because, well, because it was just too hard to write. On July 12, I woke up to a string of phone calls and a face book status from my brother telling everyone in our immediate family to get to Good Samaritan. I don't think at that moment I could say that I had a feeling that something was really wrong, or that I knew my grandma wasn't with us anymore. Honestly, I still don't have that feeling. I called my mom, and she said that she was gone and I didn't feel hurt or angry. I just felt sorry for everyone, more empathetic than anything. I felt bad for my mother because she had lost a parent. I felt sorry for my brother. I felt HORRIBLE for my grandfather because he had lost the love of his life and his companion.
 I came home that first day and went to my grandfathers and he was out in the yard talking about the nuts that fell from the tree being so big that they were messing up his lawn mower. His wife died that morning, I was like, what are you talking about? I had a good cry when I went in to her house the first time after, everything said, her. But, we all made calls and told people that she had passed, and my grandfather, he was just "well, my companion passed" it was just too...strange. He even chided my cousin and I for being too chicken about telling people she died!
I think the week before the funeral I must've been numb. I did things during the day, edited the obituary, did whatever my mom needed me to do, took naps, received guests. It wasn't horrible. I cried every night, but it wasn't that sort of "my life is over" cry. I can say in hindsight that this was probably the easiest week since she passed for me. I don't think the implications of what it meant for her to be really gone had surfaced, I had just got a message from them the night before. There was no finality. I hadn't seen her at the hospital so I had no physical attachment to her death. Even picking out her casket wasn't bad for me, even though it was hard for my mom. Again, I just felt bad for everyone.
My grandmother had been praying without ceasing, in the real sense about her healing. Every church that we went to, and everyone that she encountered she asked to pray for her, and encouraged them that even though she looked sick, that God was going to give her, her healing. She played all the healing scriptures in the Bible on a CD player throughout the house every night. I don't think anyone could accuse my grandmother of lack of faith. But, she died anyway. I think the biggest thing that sticks out in my mind from that first week after was a word from my great uncle, he said,  not everyone will be healed. I've said this many times, I think that people will look at my grandmother and say, look at her, she spent all that time praying for a healing and it never came. Yes, but my uncle was right, and it's stuck with me. Isaiah 57, "the righteous perish, and no one takes it to heart; the devout are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death." Not everyone will be healed, and I pray that you will have your loved ones until the rapture, but I know for some of us that will not be.
I think that at the end of this post like so many others, I expect, and sometimes you do too that there is a great lesson, and that I have emerged a better person and that I'm okay. If I told you that it would be a lie. I'm not okay. I've been in grief counseling, it's HARD. It's horrible. Last week was one of the worst. I'm so used to her being there for me. My grandmother was a great encourager. She spoke in to my life. I don't feel as if she's "gone", just that I don't have her. She called me on my lunch break in between classes, would leave me voicemails saying she just wanted to hear my voice. Prayed 8 hours when I had a Constitutional Law take home final. And, she was SO HILARIOUS. I didn't come home last easter, and I remember telling her, and she said "it's 1:44 PM (on whatever date it was), I don't got through my whole day, and you've ruined it, at 1:44. " . I NEARLY DIED. Then one day she called me talking about, "what are we gonna do with our pope", and I was like "Grandma, we're not catholic. " "Oh, I didn't tell you? We've converted. "  Um, what? I FELL OUT. One year she brought me this horrendous 1980 sweat suit, the kind that swishes when you walk. I asked her did she still have the receipt and why she brought it, her answer was "well it would've been a wedding dress, but...you know" SO hilarious. I went out to dinner with her, and didn't finish my burger, and she called me about an hour later concerned that I hadn't gotten enough to eat because I didn't finish my food. Everyone doesn't love like that,  that's what I'm missing.
Again, I feel bad, who ever ends of being the love of my life will never know her, my children will never see their great-grandmother. She will not be there when I graduate from law school, and she was so proud of me going.  All of those milestones that will come in the future, she won't be present for. Right now I can see all that, and that's what is the most hurtful to me. It's not debilitating, but it's hard.
P.S. I felt SO bad for my grandfather I brought him a dog, and then felt worse because I brought a german shepard to "replace" my grandmother's companionship, as if that could ever put a dent in the hole. They LOVE each other though, I just felt bad, and was glad I could do something.


Pray for me, I love you all.

Let the Lord bless thee, and keep thee: The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto the: the Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.



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