The plan was for my dad and I to head over to her house at 7:00 in the morning. I woke up early, but didn't want to go. I much preferred getting the extra two hours of sleep. Later that morning, when I got back in my room from my usual morning shower, I saw the 4 missed calls from my dad (who had gone to her house without me). I knew instantly.
When my mom and I arrived, there were already several people at the house (who likewise heard what had happened). I went immediately into her room. There she was. Air was no longer circulating in and out of her body. She didn't open her eyes and smile to see that I was in front of her. She didn't clutch my hand to show me how strong she still was despite her condition. It was just her in her bed--motionless.
At this point tears were already freely flowing from my eyes. I surveyed the room and noticed how I wasn't the only one crying. My ate was taking it especially hard. It was uncomfortable for all of us. "Mommy" Lydia was not here with us. It was shock at its most extreme.
I went to the side of her bed like I always did. I put my head on the bed and looked up at her like I always did. I did this so many times over the past month while she was sleeping. Simply observe my lola. Yet this time, she wasn't breathing. Reality crashed on me with merciless heaviness. My crying turned to uncontrolable weeping. I could not believe it. This ensued for the next several minutes.
Then I decided to look back at my lola...and saw it.
I studied her face again and started to smile. Her face no longer carried the grimace that I had grown accustomed to seeing. She had peace written all over her. The profound realization finally came to me that she was no longer carrying the suffering that accompanies cancer. She had been rescued!
I had been praying so long for my dear lola. Somehow, if it were at all possible, I wanted God to alleviate the pain that my grandmother was enduring. I prayed this prayer consistently for the past month. It finally got answered. My mind was blown. I didn't cry again for the rest of the day.
Now, even though it's still painful to consider that I'll no longer be able to see my lola again (for now at least), I find myself more and more thankful for having her in my life. Above all, she was the definition of faith for me. She was the living proof that Christ never fails to satisfy. She believed it with such tenacity, in fact, that it bled into other areas of her life.
This was perhaps most evident (and most amplified) during her last moments here on earth. I don't know what cancer is like, but ever since she was diagnosed with it, she never once complained about her situation. Even during the initial after stages of chemotherapy (where things become especially painful), Lola never groused about her circumstance. Just the opposite happened in fact. At the end of the day, when all of her hair had to be shaved off because of the chemo, she cried a little bit and praised God. This spirit continued even as the cancer continued to spread. Exhausted from battling all the time, the few times my lola chose to speak, it was never complaint; instead it was always praise for Whom it was she was confident her life was in.
This observation about my lola was evident to everyone. During her memorial, story after story was told about how lola was able to impact so many different lives. Lola's love for Christ naturally flowed over to her love for other people. Everyone reminisced about the memories they had with lola. Lola wrote everyone a kind note or letter. She always sang a beautiful tune to others. She shared her life experiences with others still. Simply put, she impacted other peoples lives.
The memorial certainly showed it. Even though her memorial was held at a fairly sizeable place, the building was overflowing with people. It was so full, in fact, that some people didn't even get to stay inside the building during the memorial. Yet that was ok with them...just being there in the moment was plenty enough. That speaks volumes for the woman that my lola was.
Now, I can't help but smile when I consider my lola's situation. Half of the joy that I have is that I can say with absolute certainty that my lola is celebrating with my lolo in heaven right now. I imagine the joy she had when she saw her 2nd daughter who had also gone ahead of her. Most of all, I delight in the fact that all the pain she endured in this whisper of life must be such an insignificant memory by now. I'm happy.
I miss you lola. Your smile speaks of all the joy that Christ has placed in your heart. You make even plain pictures like this so uniquely beautiful.
Thank you for being an example and source of inspiration for me. It is my desire to impact other people's lives much the same way you did. Maybe, just maybe, I can learn to cook half as well as you too.
I love you. I can't wait to see you again.
1 comment:
she was beautiful fred
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