“I’ve got it through my head, I just can’t break it to my heart...”
I woke from the best sleep I’ve had in about a week and felt like a new person, for the one-hundredth of a second, until I remembered you were gone.
My faith tells me death isn’t final, and I truly believe it. Trying to convince my heart of that, on this side of heaven, is a bit more difficult.
Losing two grandparents in a span of eight and a half months is not for the faint of heart. I’m not enjoying this part of adulthood. Not one bit. I know I should be thankful and I am. I’ve had more time than many. Even with that knowledge, it is never enough.
I’m an empath who feels all the things, despite wishing I didn’t. I wish I didn’t care so much, but it’s not something I can turn off, ever. It’s a blessing and often a curse.
For a good portion of life, I bottled my emotions, but sometimes that led to unhealthy consequences. As I’ve learned more about who I am and why I am that way, I’ve learned it’s best to mud through the feelings of sadness, anger, frustration and loss at the time I’m feeling them, if at all possible. One way I do that is through writing. Its cheap therapy. Its also a way for me to connect with others. Maybe the open vulnerability will help another soul - dang, that caring thing again…
If you’re so inclined to keep reading, let me tell you about my mamaw.
My mamaw died yesterday. What started as a little trip to the hospital to get her back on track turned into a shocking downward spiral and a sudden end to a story we naively thought had more to write. Apart from a natural disaster, car accident, or something sudden like a heart attack, genetically speaking, I think we all thought it would end differently, years down the road. That just proves how little we know and how little we can control.
Mamaw was one of my biggest cheerleaders. There was nothing I couldn’t do in her eyes. Well, maybe except for night driving. She hated when I did stuff like that, and unfortunately for her, my lifestyle requires I do it and other semi-risky things frequently. She wanted her people to be safe at all times. She always told me to “watch out for Mrs. Hinahosa.” I always thought she was a fictitious character until a few years ago when I learned she was an actual person that hit my great-grandma’s parked car in the back of a parking lot which thrust her into family folklore for generations.
But back to the cheerleader part. She encouraged me to follow all my dreams. She was always waiting on a phone call to hear how it went. I think she liked knowing all the details or maybe she just tolerated it well knowing it made someone feel good to know they were important and loved in their own circles. She knew the results of the first time I ever won a race in kindergarten and saw me run through my state track meets. She cheered for graduations, and jobs, the birth of my sweet babes and many many mundane happenings.
One of the reasons I had confidence to try was because she did. She was always on the cutting edge of technology. She had a computer early on and she once researched and learned how to change the hard drive in one of my laptops. iPhones were no match for her. She conquered hers before I had one. She didn’t take no for an answer which had its pros and cons! She was well read and never stopped learning.
If you opened the dictionary to mamaw, or any other similar term, you would find her first name in the spot designated for “also known as”. Being just a little over the top was part of the excitement. She planned trips and made things fun. She always had the mini-boxed sugar cereal packs so we could pick our favorites. She and Papaw sought large refrigerator boxes for us to design our own houses in the summers. She made the dreadful, sixteen hour trip to her house bearable with Happy Meals, songs and games. Shopping was made exciting as we were always on the hunt for a good deal. She had a closet of toys and a garage with bikes. She took us swimming even though she didn’t care for it because she didn’t swim well herself. Mamaw enabled my plain M&M addiction. She sent care packages and birthday cards, always on time. She took a phone call any time of day or night. She listened to me sob every night the summer I came to stay with her while my mom packed our house to move. She too, as a preacher’s kid, knew the heartache of saying goodbye.
While I have the best memories, there were challenges too. Our family, like yours, has internal “dynamics” to navigate. That’s something that is inescapable. Age is also a cruel master and there were health concerns as time marched on. She devoted her life to caring for my papaw as he slowly slipped away over a course of years and set an example of selfless devotion for us all. Sometimes its easy to shy away or hide from the tougher parts of the story, but that’s what makes the complete package. They’re not as much fun and sparkly as the other memories. However, its a disservice and a waste of years of hard work, faith and effort if we don’t learn from and appreciate the story from all angles. Life is a mixture of highs and lows and a lot of in-between.
The picture above is from a few years ago. I basically had to drag her out of the house to take it. That day, she looked absolutely gorgeous and I wanted her to see it herself. I remember it was a hot and windy morning in southwest Kansas, typical for June and sand was involved in the quest to find a suitable back drop. Since I too, don’t often take no for an answer, she gave in. I can’t remember what made her laugh but I may have said something outlandish or slightly inappropriate, as is my ornery nature, to get her going. I’m so glad she gave in. That smile, that laugh. It is exactly how I want to remember her for the rest of my days.