Tonight I received a phone call that I knew would come someday. But it didn't stop the sting and mix of emotions when it finally did come. My Dad's tearful voice on the other end of the line let me know that my Nana had passed away.
Part of me was in disbelief at first because I had just been talking to Justin about her, around the time my Dad said she actually passed. I was talking about how I wanted to see her. She and my Aunt Jody, who has so lovingly taken care of her, have been on my mind the past week. I was wondering how long she would have to remain in her infirmed state. It has been three years since her life-changing stroke and I wanted for her to be whole again.
My first reaction to the news was relief for my Nana. I had been thinking about how frail she has gotten and how hard every little daily task is for her. When I heard she passed, I imagined in my mind's eye her walking through the veil of this life and into the next. I imagined her body and mind being restored. I imagined her being welcomed by all those who had passed before her. And I was happy for her.
Then over the line I heard my own mother say "I am happy for her." and then her voice cracked as she continued "But she is my mother." In that moment my heart broke as I thought of my own mom and how this must feel. I immediately thought of how devastated I will be when that day comes when I have to say goodbye to her. My relief turned to sadness as the realization of the situation settled on me.
Through the mix of emotions though, I find myself so grateful for the life of my Nana. Her walk was not always easy, but she endured. She has taught me to endure and I am grateful for the legacy that she forged for me. After her stroke three years ago, as we sat in her hospital room, she kept talking about the light. She had lost almost all her verbal skills and yet she kept persisting about The Light. She saw a light. She was ready to go to it. She was prepared to meet her God. When she realized it wasn't her time she was upset, because she was so ready. But her work wasn't done.
Now, in retrospect, I am able to see the purpose of her staying. Of what a little, fragile, white-haired, mostly non-verbal woman was able to accomplish in her remaining years on Earth. And I am yet again amazed at God's goodness and plan for each and every one of us.
I feel a peace, as I sit here and type, that my Nana fulfilled her purpose and it was her time to rest from this mortal state. I will miss her so very much. The softness of her skin. The feel of her manicured nails as they softly scratched your back. I will miss the way she always coiffed her hair and sucked in her cheeks for pictures. I will cherish memories of her annual visits every Christmas as a child. I will cherish the memory of her standing outside her little house on Northview waving as we would pull away after a visit. I will miss and cherish the letters and cards I would find in my mailbox in her perfect, cursive handwriting. I will miss so much about the small but amazing woman I named my firstborn after. She truly touched my life.
I am grateful to my core for the knowledge I have that families are forever. I feel so much peace at knowing that this parting is but temporary. I find myself with even greater resolve to live my life according to God's plan, so that someday I can meet with her again.
