Me: I absolutely know that He can hear you.
MawMaw: I talk to Him all day. As soon as I wake up I talk to Him. All day I talk to him. But I can't remember my words good anymore. I worry that He (pause) that He might get tired of waiting on me to figure out what I'm trying to say. He has so many people to listen to.
Me: (remembering not to upset her with my own emotions) He knows what we need/desire before we even begin praying. Your prayers don't have to be formal. He understands and loves you just the way you are and loves for you to talk to Him. No matter how simple.
MawMaw: I just want to know if my mom knows what's going on with me. Do you think she knows? Do you think God has told her what's wrong with me?
Me: I think that God is taking care of your needs, MawMaw. You are His child, and He is doing exactly what you need for Him to do....even before you know that you need it.
She was thirty-nine when I was born. Two months later she turned forty. My mother was born, her first child, when she was just fifteen. The coolest grandmother, by far, on the block. She had style and grace, with a little bit of Southern sass. She was and has been the head of our family, and the glue that has kept us all together my entire life. She throws her head back and laughs harder than anyone I know, and tells stories about her past that can easily take you back to that time and make you wish you had been there yourself. She worked years upon years as a hotel manager. Seven days on...three days off. She worked until she thought she had nothing more to give at the age of sixty-eight. Her mind and body desperately longed for the break that retirement would give her. Never knowing that all of her hard work would take it's toll once she finally stopped. She suffered a minor stroke six months after retirement. It impaired her vision and she eventually became blind in one eye. It wasn't long before the second stroke came and turned our family into what we now consider our norm. Far from where we were. Never to return again. Together nonetheless. Slowly, throughout the course of two years, my once stronger-than-any-woman-I-know grandmother has become frail. Her memory is slipping to the point of extinction. Each month gets visibly worse. Forgetting names was the first sign of her memory loss last year. Grabbing toothpaste to wash her hands instead of hand soap is nothing unusual for her today.
And it's happening so fast now. An ever present reminder of how quickly time flies by. Life is precious...and it is short.
I am so thankful, however, for knowing this precious woman and being a part of her family for nearly thirty-one years, thus far. For knowing her stories. Loving music like she does. Inheriting her sense of humor. Maybe even a little bit of her sass. My grandmother. The one whom was chosen to show those of us in her family how imperfect our minds and bodies were meant to be while on Earth.
Father, thank you, a million times over for blessing our family with such an amazing woman. Even now, she is the human glue that holds us all together as a family. I ask that you keep our family strong as we continue to be reminded that our minds and bodies are meant to crumble to imperfection, until we are all made whole again in your presence. Being an adult is harder than I thought it ever could be. I'm scared, Father. These people whom I thought, as a child, could be destroyed by nothing, have grown weak and weary...and my heart aches. Repair my heart, Father. Give me strength. My hope is in You. All of my hope is in You.
Relishing in His goodness...
