saying goodbye

I will never forget the day my Granny died. My most vivid memories come from the biggest days of my life. You know, the best of times. The worst of times. I remember everything from that day. Everything from my righteous indignation towards the so-called doctors who could have possibly come up with such a misguided prognosis--to the waiting room at the hospital filled with tearful people that loved Granny and Grandad. You have seen that sign that says, "All because two people fell in love?" It should have been hanging on the wall in that waiting room. Looking back, there are two moments from that day that are crystal clear in my memory that I will carry with me always.

The first moment was when my sister and I arrived at Boone Hospital. I saw someone standing on the sidewalk and instantly knew it was my mom. She was waiting for us. She looked very small and isolated against that brick building. As we approached her I saw the waves of sadness in her red eyes and I felt the desperation in her warm hug. That was when I knew the doctors may not have been mistaken after all.

Granny and Grandad held hands. They walked with their arms linked together. I was not surprised when I got to her room and Grandad was holding her hand. I was not surprised to see his other hand gently stroking her hair. I remember hearing him say, "You didn't get too many gray hairs, did you, Sugar?" And my heart was broken. For myself. For my mom. And for Grandad. Her husband of fifty-six years. I remember thinking if my husband holds my hand that gently and speaks to me so softly after fifty-six years of marriage...then I will have lived a good life.

I was relieved when it was over. I never wanted to lose her, of course, but when someone you love is suffering and inevitably near the end, you just want it to be over. You want them to go on to glory where there is no suffering or crying or pain and it was a relief to know she was there. But it was not over. Losing a loved one is not a wound that ever really heals. I miss Granny during birthdays and holidays. I miss her when I see a lady in a skirt that reminds me of hers or smell perfume like she use to wear. I think of her when I am sitting beside my children and can't help but affectionately pat their little legs. I think about her big, tight hugs and wish she could have squeezed on my kids like she squeezed on me. But nobody missed her like Grandad.

While loved ones gathered again at the hospital to say goodbye to Grandad I couldn't help but consider how remarkable it was that he survived over nine years without her. They went everywhere together. They went camping. They visited family and friends. They attended my ball games and milestone events. Their love and devotion to their family was always obvious to me. I was blessed to be able to know and love my grandparents. To me, saying goodbye to Grandad is saying goodbye to all of my grandparents and their entire generation of people. Honorable people. People who stayed married. People who were honest. People who were kind, respectful, hard-working, content, and on time. People who demanded the best from you because they would always give you their best in return. People who were devoted to their families and to their country. I will always miss those people. And I will always miss Grandad. I was sitting in a chair next to his bed, holding his hand, when he took his last breath. Megan was asleep against my chest, and I could feel his wedding band between my fingers. Thank God, it was the most peaceful thing I have ever seen. My comfort comes from my belief that he and Granny are together again at last. I can smile about that.