Dying doesn't scare me, the not living does.......

My Grandma died this morning.  Should I be happy for her that she just keeled over and didn't have to suffer?  Or should I be sad that she died alone?

She was my "spicy" Grandma.  She didn't do Grandma things with me.  We didn't bake cookies, knit, or garden together.  We rode in her cute red convertible with the top down.  We swore, we laughed, we talked.  She didn't take shit from anyone.  She was by far not perfect, but she was perfectly flawed.  And one of the few people in my life who, I believe, truly understood me.  She called me this weekend but I didn't answer the phone.  I was busy in the Dells with my kids at the water park.  It would have been the last time I talked to her, but I didn't answer.  I listened to the voice mail this morning.  It was just random things.  How are you?  I am o.k.  Call me.  I love you.  I pushed 7 to erase literally 15 minutes before my Mom called me to tell me she passed away.  Now I wish I could hear her voice again.

One night we had a conversation about religion and my confusion about my faith.  She laughed and told me even at 67 she was still confused.  She told me I was a good person, and she believed in me.  That eventually, I would figure it out.  I still haven't Grandma.  But, I damn well will keep trying. 

I think she is really the first person close to me, as an adult, that I have lost.  It really puts things perspective for me.  Mortality.  We will all die.  Someday, I will bury my parents.  Someday, my children will bury me.  Tonight, I laid in bed with my beautiful blonde haired son.  He looked peaceful and serene.  As he slept, I stroked his soft hair and held his chubby baby fingers in my hand.  I have peace in my heart when I think of leaving this earth, because I have had love.  All of the pain I had to endure to get here sometimes washes over me, and I have let it consume me at times.  But I have been loved more than hurt.  I have been blessed more than condemned.  My heart is so full of love, laughter, and memories.  If you haven't had so much love in your life that at times you felt like you could burst, find it, and don't let go.

The lessons that my Grandma taught me are that sometimes the best and truest love comes from those you least expect it to.  That even if you make a lifetime of mistakes, you can be saved.  That even the flawed can seek redemption, and can bask in the sun.  That real love transcends life and death.  Rest in peace Grandma.  I hope you get that field full of pansies in the after life. Thanks for the memories.

~"We all die.  The goal isn't to live forever, the goal is to create something that will." ~

Trying to be the "bigger", but "littler" person.....

People say you need to forgive someone, not for them, but for yourself.  But what if you feel like they are not owed the forgiveness?  What if you feel like that by forgiving you are saying that their behavior was somehow o.k.?  Or you somehow accept it?  What if you cause someone irreparable damage?  What do you owe that person?  Can you put a price on the human psyche?  Soul, mind, breath, and life.

I am stuck somewhere between half assed, and maybe sane.  A daily struggle against myself.  And who should I thank for that?  People that too this day refuse to see the error of their ways, refuse to apologize, or acknowledge.  People who exist only in their own little bubble of themselves.  I will spend the rest of my life sorting through the pieces they gave me.  Pieces I have been sorting now for almost 30 years, slowly gluing  back together, trying to make myself whole again.  I have come to accept that I am an adult now, that I have the control, I have the way and the means.  I have to be better.  But deep down, when I look over the scars, the cracks, I can't help but wonder how things might have been different.

Would I be as strong today, if I hadn't had to scratch and crawl my way up from the bottom?  Would I appreciate things as much?  Would I laugh as loud or breathe as deep?  Would I stand my ground and speak my mind?  The confusion kills me.  Maybe instead I should be thanking them, for making me a fighter.  For making me stronger than I ever thought I could be.  That by forcing me to dwell in darkness, I got out to seek the light.  Maybe they will never find theirs.  I keep praying for the peace to come.  I long for the inner peace, that will lighten me, and allow me to drop the load I carry.  Why do I carry their sins on my back?  In hopes that by seeing my burden they will someday see the despair they have caused.  But, in reality, it just makes me tired.  Sad, hopeless, and completely devastated.  It leaves me waiting for a day that will probably never come......