in nj with my heart

in the last week i have not been able to get here at all. monday october 31, i spent the day with my family at the hospital with my nana. the wednesday prior she went into memorial with shortness of breath and internal bleeding. i honestly felt she was going to be fine after a few days there, recouping, resting and relaxing. i never would have imagined sitting with her, holding her hand, watching life leave her on monday. as our family gathered i felt an overwhelming sense of beauty surround us. it was not a frightening or scarey experience. though death is unnatural, i not believing that i was created to die and that sin is death, felt peace.

my poppop died three years ago and i soon began writing my nana at least once a month. i very rarely received a response, but it did not matter to me. i felt with the distance that it was my responsibility to bridge the gap. i became close to her, reflecting upon our mutual loss in life, but encouraging her as well as myself to see god's grace through the lonliness and sadness. then when we moved her here to chattanooga in february, her life changed and there was no doubt a connection. a renewal of time lost together. she was hilarious and full of interesting thoughts and connections to her new life at the terrace. she also made quick friends and played cards/bingo until after losing so much she decided to quit. even that she lightly expressed with humor.

so as a family we made our way up to new jersey, our roots. i am glad i decided to ride along with my brothers and sister n law. what an amazing thirteen hour trip. both ways, 24 hours in the car in a 96 hour period of time. my brothers spent the entire drive making fun of me, laughing at every thing i said. gosh my brothers and i are so different but so much the same it's bizzare-io! we only stopped twice on the way up, how insane is that? saturday was the viewing/visitation and graveside service. to say it was a beautiful day is quite an understatment. mom said it seemed more like the setting in a movie. god could not have been more merciful to our families. the sight of multi generations spread between stones, tall grass and a blazing autumn sun. no one wanted to leave, so we lingered and gazed upon our past, gazed upon my great grandparents and my great great grandparents resting. aunt ginny, the eldest at 98 came along, viewing her lost daughter, dying young from polio. uncle buddy crying by his wife's site, recently passed. i felt the missing come on so soon and knew my nana passing was different, after having watched as her body slowly seperated from her spirit. how thankful i am for this amazing, redemptive and miraculous experience. miraculous because of how my family has become so important to me. the foundation for which a continue in my day to day life. so my nana lays in new jersey with my heart.

in other news.

the workforce is not slowing down one ounce and i am working to make up for lost time, every night this week at the rx. i am going to go to a move with amp tomorrow night at the bijou-junebug @ 9:45pm, if anyone else would like to come along, they're welcome. except of course if you're a stranger. i stil have not gotten my package from lovely design which is fairly disappointing. i'll have to track that expensive little splurge down or otherwise bite the dust. hell no! i've had my fill of the kenya wests' "golddigger." thinking of the weekend again, so sorry.

cannot wait to see j. kring and k. knutson again. planning for the holidays. wishing i had moochoo time to craft. soon and very soon.

1 comment:

katiek said...

I'm sorry about your nana's passing, but I understand those feelings. I buried my grandmother 8 years ago and my AuntP 2 years ago. It's not all that sad, but definately an awakening experience. At AP's funeral I wore no black and instead rejoiced at seeing my other family and friends that had come to say goodbye. I think of my AP fondly now as I use her art supplies on a regular basis. I carry around her watercolor box to class with the "Phyllis Anderson" label on the top.