Thanks---For the Memories (To Be Heard)

The things we think can be funny sometimes. 

My Gramma gave me this ornament years ago. I think when Owen was a baby. At first I thought, 'gosh this thing is big with its chunky velour box. I really don't want it, but I'll take it anyway.'

No, I didn't say any of this to her because honestly, it's absolutely awful even to think it, but I did. 

She always gave me stuff when I came to visit; always. Sometimes, just because she only had a bit of room in her one bedroom apartment & needed to free up some space. Sometimes she picked it up on the bench in lobby that people shared stuff on because she thought of me. Sometimes she needed me to put it in her shed. 

They say it gets easier but sometimes it just doesn't. I mean sure, time passes and all that jazz, but the impression that someone leaves in your life after they're gone can only be filled with Jesus. 

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. - ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭11:28‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Nothing is Too Big for God

I'm not actually sitting beside this lovely water right now, the picture is for attention. On average, I'm blogging once a month now. Again, 1,000 ideas & not enough time to make posts happen. Okay so, I'm telling stories. There are twenty-four hours in every day, it's how I choose to spend each day & in recent months, there's been no extra time allotted for blogging. And, I'm terrible about posting. I think of something to post & I talk myself out of it. This feels like deja vu. I've said this before. Repeatedly. 

The water is the marsh by my Gramma's house, where she lived before she died. I miss her terribly. When I found out I was pregnant a few months ago, she was the first person I wanted to call. BOOM! The cat is out of the proverbial bag on social media. Other than a #prenatalyoga hashtag I used on Instagram a week ago, I've not actually made it official just yet. All five of you who read my blog probably already know so technically, the cat is in the bag still. 

Geez Louise, I get sidetracked so easily. Look----SQUIRREL! My Gramma would've said a little something like, "why? What were you thinking, Alisha??" Yes, she was dedicated to her harshness & that's putting it mildly. That doesn't make me miss her any less though. I loved that woman so much, I still do. She taught me so much about life, about choices, about what to do, what not to do. I pray everyone has that person that's able to make an impact on their life like that. She was not biologically my Mother, but she sure enough stepped in & played the part that I needed all my life. 

My last doctor's appointment, I drove up and sat by the water & had lunch & it, of course, was gorgeous. I'd like to think she was there with me. The vibrant her that could spend hours walking on the beach & picking up shells. 

Her apartment building overlooked the marsh & she had the best view that I have ever seen. It was breathtaking. God, I wish I could lay on her couch and nap again. I love her so much. Yes, I'm hormonal & I am absolutely no nonsense at this point. There is no extra space for foolishness in my life right now. Andy said I was psycho with Evan (our second child) & he's right, I was. It's elevated to nut-ward-worthy with our third; promise. 

For the last two Sundays, I've teared up at church. Okay, I've pure ugly-cried. Yep, I have. I can't control it. I have no control, whatsoever, over my hormones. I would like to believe I'm not a bumbling basketcase but..... if the shoe fits. 

There are so many things happening in this world & so much that is bigger than me. However, nothing is too big for God.

Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. - James 5:16(KJV)

She Left Me (To Be Heard)

She gave me these bulbs once the Amaryllis bloomed & the flower was gone; much like she did will all things she was trying to find a home for that she no longer needed because we pass hoarding down through generations in my family.

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)

Shake the Sugar Tree (To Be Heard)

Today she would have been seventy-seven years old. The woman who taught me much about life, love, what to do, what not to do & how to make fudge is spending her second birthday in heaven.

I didn't say I wouldn't get emotional this year. I didn't say I wouldn't cry. I didn't set myself up for anything but accepting that she's gone. Everyone deals with death in their own way. I prepared for her death for years in advance. I am aware how neurotic this sounds. No matter how neurotic, it's what I did. I visited more, called incessantly & made all efforts to cement our lives together to memory.

Gramma Jean loved Honeybell's. These delicious little oranges that are ready each year around the time of her birthday. It just so happens, we have a Cutie tree growing wild in edge of the woods behind our house.  Coincidence? Could be. I think it was discovered  two years ago, but it could be three by now. I can't remember. My memory consists primarily of post-it notes since having children.

At any rate, I was out for some exercise this evening & I thought to myself, 'what better time to check on the Cutie's than today, of all days?'

Much like my Gramma Jean, this tree was hard to shake. I didn't bring the picker because the trip wasn't planned. I was able to get one little Cutie to munch on for the walk back up to the house. 

I miss her all the time & by all the time, I mean that she's everywhere. She's in my heart. She's in my mind. I think about her several times a day. I can't count the times that I wish I could call her & ask her for her help. She's all over my house in the things that she's given me over the years & the moments we shared in pictures. I can hear her telling me what to do when I need help. It's not the same, but I know she's here with me. I feel her here watching over me & the kids. I can still feel how it felt to cry on her shoulder the last time that I needed it. She was always there for me. I didn't always like her answers & we most assuredly didn't always agree, but I could always depend on her to stand in & be my Mother.

God, I miss her & her tough love. 

Happy Birthday, Gramma.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. 

- Philippians 4:13 

She is with me.

I caught myself at the store the other day, searching for the hard candy that Gramma used to buy all the time. I don't even like it. Rarely did I ever have any when she was alive. Why do I now want it when she's dead?

It's funny how we grieve. I'm not sure I've even grieved for her. I understand that she is no longer at the doctor's office every other day trying to figure out what's wrong. Not just one doctor, many doctors. Not just one time, in fact, I couldn't tell you how many doctor appointments that she had over the last several years. I'm not sure about triple digits, but I'm positive about double digits. 

This doll was Gramma's favorite. To me, it's creepy. I do not like it in the slightest; I never have. Where is it now? On my mantle beside my first angel I bought in 1997. The angel was the topper on my very first Christmas tree.

I looked at the doll over and over in the box and even thought about it being in the box before I decided that I wouldn't give it to Goodwill (Gramma's favorite store), I would display it. No idea. Well, I have an idea. God. Sometimes He tells us to do things we don't want to do. I think He wants me to grieve for her. I don't really know how to. 

I talk to her. As nuts as it seemed to me that she talked to Tolly every time her clock chimed, I probably seem just as nuts for talking to her randomly throughout each day. She's everywhere in our home.

She gave me this ornament years ago. It came in its own little special box. I remember thinking, I don't need any more junk, but I didn't say it. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. She loved to give me things. 

I'm glad I didn't say it. As a matter if fact, I'm glad I didn't say a lot of things. Gramma and I disagreed a lot on parenting tactics. A difference in four decades, raising & lifestyle, I suppose.

I made this shadow box for her. The shells inside are ones we collected together. I just recently hung it on my wall. It took me several months to even walk out to the shed. We donated her clothes to an abused women's shelter. They sat in the shed for months before I had the nerve to go through them. 

I'm grateful for all the events that led to me moving to Georgia & moving in with Gramma. I was an awful mess then & for a very long time after but, it got me to where I am now. She saw that. She was there for the birth of both of my babies & my wedding. She didn't think I would ever get married. If I had to guess, she probably thought I'd be a mess forever.

Then I started on my walk with Christ. It took Him about eight months to clean me up to 'mint' condition. I grow daily with Him and she knew that. She was here to see me succeed. Succeed in my walk with Christ.

It's not the holiday so much, that makes me miss her. I miss her every time I need an answer to a question. I reach to call her frequently. I bought her a Christmas card the other day. Yes, I am fully aware that her body is gone. 

She is everywhere. I'd like to believe that she's here with me half the time & the other half, she's with George. He took care of her when I was unable. I have those memories. I have no regrets. I wouldn't bring her back if I could, because she felt so bad all of the time. That doesn't make me miss her any less.

This Snowman Tree was made for Gramma by a sweet friend she met when she lived across the bridge from Topsail Island, NC. It's my prized possession. I will cherish it forever. I always told her that I wanted it. 

I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me. -- Philippians 4:13

10 Minute Potpourri

I have exactly 15 minutes until I have to be in the car to pick up Owen from school. There are a 1,000 things I could be doing and it just so happens, I have been doing them instead of blogging. I have about four or five "half-entries" written down and many thoughts of entries running through my mind. 

First of all, I miss my Gramma Jean like peanut butter misses jelly when you forget to pick it up at the grocery. Strange analogy, I know, but that's how my mind works. 

Second of all, two children is much more than one child. Two is easier in some ways and harder in others. One started school & the other one started solids.

Third, I'm enjoying Fall this year. It's beautiful and it's no longer 900 degrees down here in hell's holler, as my Mama dubbed it, otherwise known as Southeast Georgia. 

What does these three things have in common? Nothing really, carry on...

I Kissed her Twice.

1.22.2012

I originally started this post on July 2nd. The above photo is one of the many that I have stumbled into over the last two months since she's been gone. As I sit here in front of this picture,  my eyes well up with tears and emotions flood. 

My mind constantly wanders to her & our lifetime of memories. I went to her apartment building for the first time yesterday, to see her friend George. As I stepped off of the elevator, I looked to the right towards her door & remembered how I kissed her twice the last time that I'd been to visit her (before the hospital stays). I remember her there telling me goodbye while I waited for the elevator, like she always did. 

Convinced to Condense #8

Since I started blogging in April 2010, I have started five blogs. Is it obvious that I like to talk? I have been down to three since last year. This morning I was trying to catch up on my posting for the ultimate blog challenge (my latest project) and convinced myself to condense. Now, I am down to one.

I went to see my Gramma Saturday morning and we were talking and she said, "take some time to relax." Sounds simple right? Try it. I am. 

Less is better.

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.

Amen.

For this, I am Grateful

Today was an amazing day. One of those days when I bask in the glory of being a mother and enjoy every second. This day was incredibly memorable. Owen and I spent it with the woman who inspires me to rise above and move forward with grace. I am grateful everyday more and more for the life I lead and the example I set.

The time we spent with Gramma today will be forever etched in my memory. She and I reminisced of good times we've spent together and made new memories with Owen. Today, I count my blessings.