Getting Right

In attempts to avoid folding within myself
I sit numbly
Your possible rejection of me
Collides into a forgotten, yet nostalgic fear
Creating unforgotten insecurities
Memories of the past start flooding in
But the boulders are too high and sharp
The lack of words become deafening
I just want to cover my ears
And cry out of relief
Over holding in the washed up emotions
That I tried so hard to flee from
Spending countless days and hours
Looking in and Distracting from myself
Getting over someone, and
Getting right with me.

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Journal Entry: Hospice Day 3

She’s in a lot of pain, and moving around, agitated. She’s talked a little bit. She has weird chunks in her mouth. She has swelling in her hand. “Will you take it off please” is the clearest thing I’ve heard her say tonight, regarding her broken shoulder/arm on the pillow. “Help me, Hurry,” is what she’s saying. She just asked for water.

Maybe I should blog about it. Maybe people will have some words of wisdom or advice. Maybe it would be nice to share my story. It’s a hard story to tell. It’s a hard story to live. I don’t know how to describe it, how I lost G.G. (Great Grandma) one year ago, and now I’m losing my grandma. In the worst way imaginable. Maybe I should keep it to myself for a while.

I just don’t know what to do. I need something to keep me busy while I’m here. Maybe read, write some more. But write about what?

Dear Grandma,

Soon, you will find the sunlight over those rocky hills. All of your pain will be dissolved into the brisk air. You will feel the warmth of God’s breath on your forehead. You will have the relief to take a full, deep breath again.

I wish I could take all of your pain, and put it into me instead. You always took care of me. You always knew what to say when I came to you for advice. I know I was stubborn sometimes, and didn’t visit you enough, and I wish I could take it back.

You gave me your car, the ’93 Subaru Legacy when I was 16. I still have childhood memories of you taking me to pre-school in that car, always having a sucker for me in the glove box when you picked me up.

You are an example to live by. You changed so many people’s lives. You accepted everybody, no matter their race, religion, ethnicity, socio-economic status- and you always had humor and kind words to cheer someone up.

I accept your departure from this earth, into the other realm. I can only Imagine. What it will be like to meet Jesus. And your mother, brother, father, grandfather.

I will be okay. We will be okay. I just don’t want to see you suffer anymore.

I know where you are going, and I know that you will be with me always and forever. Give a big kiss to G.G. for me.

Love,

Jordy