Every week or two or three or month that I was able to visit she sent me home with something new that she no longer had space for in her two-room space at the Towers by the Marsh. Now, I wait for these lovelies to bloom every Spring & I think of her & how much she has always meant to me, even when it was impossible for us to get along; which was frequently.
We had different views on parenting, relationships, politics, & people, but we both loved the beach & each other.
She made an incredible impact on my life; sometimes positive & sometimes negative. I'm not here to speak of a saint, because a saint, she was not. She took care of me. She loved me even when she didn't know how to.
When my Uncle died in August of 2010, I couldn't understand how she could make herself sad by listening to her two voicemails that she saved of him over and over and over. I couldn't understand until she died in June of 2013 and I did, and still do, the same thing. It's not really about making myself sad. It's about hearing a voice that I'll never hear in the flesh again.
Do I have any regrets? No, not one. I told her how I felt about her, kept my mouth shut when I didn't have anything nice to say, let her be right because none of that matters in the grand scheme of things, called her frequently & visited often. I knew it was coming. I knew she was sick. I had time to mentally prepare myself. I mentally & physically prepared myself for two years & nine months. Odd? Maybe, but you don't have to like it. It's my way. It's how I cope; I prepare. Everyone has their own way; that's mine.
I miss her everyday. Her face is all over my home. Her memory is etched on my soul. I think of her often. Being prepared doesn't make the absence less painful. I'm in my preparing process again. The older I get, the more frequent the preparation comes.
The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. - Deuteronomy 31:8 (NASB)
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