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"A Grandmothers Love"

My grandmother would be 105 years old if she was here today. She was a tough, and rough around the edges lady. She wasn't just my grandmother, she was my friend. She has been gone some 20 years now, but the ache in my heart is still as present and strong as it ever was. I miss my grandma. I always will.

A grandmother's love transcends generational boundaries; it goes beyond a mere kinship. A grandmother is a fulfillment of a need that grandchildren everywhere have. Mothers are special and unique, in and of themselves, but they cannot fill the void that grandmothers fill.

My grandmother was my confidante. My comforter, and strength. Her wisdom and guidance helped build the person that I am. She encouraged me to be me. She allowed me to be myself, and let me know that I was pretty great just like I was.

A few months ago, a dear friend of mine, lost her grandmother. She spoke to me just briefly, about her. In just those few short minutes, I identified and bonded with her. As she spoke of her precious grandmother, I thought of mine. As her heart was breaking, mine was also. I could feel all of those familiar feelings rush in. I mourned, with my friend, over the loss of her loved one and felt her pain. At the same time, felt the loss of my own grandmother.

I loved my grandma, and she loved me. The world was a better place with her in it. I'm a better person, in turn thanks to her; the world's a better place because of me. As I pass on her character and gifts, she lives through me and each one I touch.

Nikki, I truly know how hard it has been for you, hon. I also know that the world is a better place with you in it. I didn't know your grandmother. I have to think, though, that you're spreading around her character, even now. Strengthening a legacy that she started in you.

My heart still aches with and for you. I know that she will always be missed. My prayers and friendship are still here for you, and your family.

A grandmother's love is an amazing thing. Especially in its ability to live on in those she left behind.



 

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To remember is not to always remain in
mourning, but to recognize and show
gratitude for someone or something
special.  A sunset, a flower, or a human
touch.  Always be grateful, always 
show it, and always remember. 



"Remembering"

Wednesday, June 04, we laid to rest an old and dear friend of mine. He had been sick for a long time, and for the end of his suffering I am grateful. Yet, we mourn.

We mourn for those left behind. The wives, husbands, moms, dads, children, etc. All at the same time, feeling another sense altogether. We mourn another part of our history. One more icon of our past has gone on.

Most of us, including myself, have rich and colorful history. Filled with friends and relatives, and even public figures that have impacted our lives in a positive way. The closer the icon, the larger the impact. For example, when my grandmother died, life, as I knew it changed forever. She had a huge impact on my life. Everything she was inspired and educated me.

School teachers, Sunday School teachers, classmates, etc. They all have effects on our lives. Some of the amazing leaders of our time. Winston Churchill, Ronald Reagan, George W. Bush, Colin Powell, etc. We are effected by so many.

June 15 is a day that I will never forget as long as I live. My heart broke as I watched the very life of my friend, Tim, leave his body. Even though it has been two years, now, it seems like yesterday. That instant, that very moment is etched into my heart and mind, and I wish that it wasn't. It's something that I don't ever want to relive.

The closeness and the joy of that visit up until that moment. The person that was, Tim. Those things help me push through the difficult moments.

I'm honored and pleased to spend days remembering Tim with his mother. I know that she and I share a very special bond, and will always.

I have tried to live my life in the light of the education I received those two years ago. I know and realize my mortality, now. I'm not simply watching life go by. I'm a participant. I make mistakes. More now than ever. Why? Because, I'm active. I'm living. I'm not just merely alive. I try hard to make each day count for something. Even if it's just to make one person feel a little better about themselves and their day.

As June 15 approached and passed, I remembered not only the lessons learned, but I remembered my friend. His life was a blessing to all who knew him, whether they knew and appreciated it or not. I certainly considered him a special blessing. I admired and respected him. It was easy for me to look over his faults, to see the good things.

When I watch a movie, good or bad, it almost always reminds me of him. He loved movies and was a very capable critic. If he critiqued a movie for me it would be such a good critique that I'd know whether I was going to enjoy it or not, without having him tell me what it was about, or giving away anything crucial to the film.

When I write something that I'm proud of, even today, I wish he were here so he could read it.

As I've said earlier, we moved into our new home not long ago. Finally I was able to set up and use the computer desk that belonged to him, given to me by his family. I feel inspired sitting and working at it. I want his opinion and advice. I want his approval.

I still feel the pain of losing him. I still feel guilt and regret. Why couldn't I save him? Why didn't I call the ambulance sooner, even against his wishes? Why didn't I realize the day before just how serious his condition really was? Yet, guilt is like a cancer. You can't always stop it from coming, but unchecked it will consume and destroy a person. We have to be diligent with these things.

My friend, Tim, died. He was terminally ill. God took him home to be with Him, and he is no longer sick. There was nothing anybody could do to change that.

It was with mixed emotions that I faced another June 15. Another reminder of his absence, but also another chance to spend the day dedicated to celebrating who he was and what he contributed to the world. His mother and I had a great day, and though there were a few tears and some sadness, it was an easier day than last year, and we remembered fondly.

I mourned the loss of an incredible person. I mourn even more for the loss of one more piece of my personal history.

I thank God for his life. Thank God for the chance to know and learn from him, and others like him. Finally, may God help us to learn to appreciate all of those around us. Each one affecting us differently. Adding their own personal touches to what will ultimately become our history.

Thanks for the friendship and the history. I miss you, Tim.