Sunday, February 20, 2011

My Foundation

When I was little, I thought tennis shoes were "tenni shoes", I believed in the Tooth Fairy and I had no concept of death. I thought everyone lived forever. I thought this until my first person "died" in my life. I say this because I still had no real concept of death at that point.
In 1989, my Great Grampa Wensil died and I didn't really understand it. I was nine years old and I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral because I was "too young". A party to celebrate his life was gathered with my family (how I remember as a child) and he was gone. I wasn't allowed to go. I don't remember where I stayed, but I didn't go to.
He and I weren't as close as Gramma Wensil and I. He was more the man that Gramma got mad at for putting beer in the fridge and he would go outside because he didn't want to hear it anymore.
In 1998, Kenny passed and I learned more than I ever wanted to know about how grief affects us as humans and it can break you down mentally, if you allow it.
In 1999, a piece of my heart left with my Gramma Wensil. She and Mama gave me the creative genes that nourish my soul. The genes that help me to express myself as a person.
In 2010, my Uncle Smokey. The soul that lived every single day of his life to the fullest until he died.
Today, as these thoughts flow through my mind, I think of my foundation, my Gramma Jean:

my heart,
my example,
my mentor,
my love,
my reason for my choices,
the one I call (always),
the one I turn to,

and the thought of my foundation not being there for me to call hurts my heart. The older I get, the more death I see and more it makes me want to be good.

To be there, for her.
For the ones that I love and care about.
To be worthy of God.
To love.
To enjoy.
To live.
To laugh.
And to make those moments that we get, count.

We don't get forever, as I learned as a child, but we do get this moment to make life what we can. I will continue to make these moments what I can and hope and pray that God will guide me the rest of the way.


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