Loss

This post has no accompanying picture, no cute story, and no suave European lesson to be learned. This story is about loss. I lost someone very close to me on Thursday, April 29th, and from that day on I have been struggling with not being their by her bedside with the rest of my family. She didn't want me to return to France because she was so worried about my safety, and I begged God to let her see me come home safely. Little did I know that God wanted her to have the best seat possible to be able to watch over my safe return. Hundreds of people were praying for her when they admitted her to hospice; praying for her healing, for her peace and ours, and a little after midnight our prayers were answered. We don't know God's plans and I cannot question His decision. I was torn at losing her, but I know that she is no longer in pain and suffering. Instead she's better than us all. As one friend of mine put it- "she is the lucky one, not us. One day we will be as lucky as her." And he's right. One day I know that her and I will meet again, and until that day I pass notes to her through Jesus. I know that now she is watching over her family and smiling to see that we all love each other and are supporting each other through this difficult time.

There is a memento (one among many) that she gave me a few years ago, a ring with a beautiful deep blue sapphire in the middle that displays a large star in the jewel when it is held under direct light. She had it re-sized for me so it would perfectly fit my ring finger. I left it home when I came to France for fear I would misplace it in my travels and I do not regret that decision, but I want it so badly. I yearn to have a piece of her with me at all times; just a reminder of her beautiful life and the lessons she taught me. She is on my mind at all times, so it's difficult to explain my want for this ring just now, but I know that when I arrive home, the first thing I do will be to retrieve my ring from it's safe hiding spot and put it on my finger, where it will always be until I decide it's time to pass it on to my daughter and tell her about Mabert and how wonderful she was.

I have begun to write out my memories of her, and the things she taught me. When I sit down to type one memory, the others just keep flowing and i cannot stop them or the tears. I wish I had taken more pictures. I used to call her every week when I was back home in Charlotte and now I wish that I had realized earlier and more often that I could call her on skype. I was able to speak with her a few times and even on her deathbed I spoke to her twice and I am grateful because some people don't even get that chance. But to only be with her one more time, to have one more conversation or garner one more life lesson from her rich time on this earth, I would give almost anything.

I miss her so much and I am grieving her in the way that I think appropriate. It's difficult because she would not have wanted a lot of fuss, but she is more than worthy of it. She didn't even want a funeral so there was none. I don't understand this decision but at the same time I would not have been able to attend anyways. I look forward to seeing my Grandpa and embracing him and finally being able to have some closure. I want to talk about her and her life and her family and her legacy. I want to record all her memories so that I can tell my children. I never imagined my life without her because she was going to live forever. She was going to be at my wedding and know my children and see how my life turned out. It still tears me apart to know that she won't be doing those things here on Earth, but I know that where she is, she already knows all those things and so much more.

I love you Grandma.