Grandma: Time Passes

It’s been awhile.  I know.  I’d like to call it a sabbatical or a furlough.  That I was taking a break to clear my head and collect my thoughts so I could return to blogging fully inspired and miraculously disciplined.

But the truth is, life just got in the way.  And I had more important things to do….

Speak of the devil… hang on a second while I go tell my toddler to lay down and stop jumping on her bed.

*************

Ok.  Where was I?

Truth is, life got in the way.  I was overwhelmed.  I chose to attend to a bazillion other hobbies besides writing.  And while every day I could think of interesting, applicable topics, I just never could sit down to write them.  I felt that if I did I would need to be consistent and disciplined.  And since I could be neither, I chose to do nothing.

Blast this perfectionism.

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I will share that while I was gone, a very significant event took place in my life.

My Grandma passed away.

The one whose life inspired me to start on this journey towards simplicity in the first place.  The one about whom the majority of this blog is written.  Really, my reason for writing again.

It was expected.  She had been “gone” for a very long time, but to lose her physically was something new.  To be there when it happened was transforming.  To go through the process of grieving and celebrating with my family was unforgettable.

And to say goodbye to such a life well lived was inspiring to say the least.

I will delve into those two weeks more as the days go on.  But for now I can tell you this.

My grandma was in a nursing home for almost 10 years.  She could barely communicate for most of those ten years and long before then she had forgotten who I was.

When I went home to say goodbye I realized that I had literally never had a conversation with her as an adult.  My childhood was carved on the trees in her backyard, but my adult life was empty of her laughter, her wisdom, and her delicious food.

Which is probably why, shortly after she passed away, God let me dream about my Grandma.

The first time that I can ever remember.

I don’t recall what it was about.  It wasn’t deep or moving or memorable.  But one thing I remember very clearly and very warmly, as if she had been sitting across from me with a cup of coffee…

In that dream… we talked.

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