A phone call. A pause in time. Tears. Sobbing. A sleepless night. Denial.
Several days ago, on October 30th, I discovered that my grandmother’s health took a turn for the worse. I can’t possibly begin to describe my grandmother and what she has meant to me. I’ve written about her several times before but if you really want to meet her, then please take a moment to do so HERE.
On October 31st, my inlaws watched my girls so that I could spend some time in the hospital with my grandma. I held her hand and prayed for release. Release for her, release for me.
As I visited with her, I looked around her room and my eyes fell on a sign.
I burst into tears. To be in pain and not to be able to express it?! I pleaded to God that she have no pain, that if it’s time for her to go, then to take her quickly so there’s no pain.
There was a moment that I felt the urge to sing to her. I sang a song… the words I can’t recall. Later that afternoon, when my dad asked me what the song was, I responded that I simply did not know. God filled me with song to get through that moment. He filled me with song… a song to sing for a wonderful woman who can no longer sing for herself.
I returned to the hospital yesterday. I sang Go Tell It On The Mountain, Amazing Grace, and many other hymns. She tapped her hand and when I would stop singing she would reach out for me. I held her hand once again, finding it hard to suppress the tears and marveling at how a moment like this could be so bittersweet, so joyful, yet so painful.
I find some comfort in knowing that soon she will be meeting her one true love… Christ. She will be free to talk, to bake, to garden, to dance, to sing, and to play her tambourine. She will be free.
My Grandma, the beautiful lady with the big, beautiful smile.
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