I said in my last post that my interest in blogging has been revitalized. And that is true, even if my post count doesn’t show it…too many things to do this time of year, and grad school to boot. I’m supposed to be writing a paper for one of my classes right now, in fact, but need to get these thoughts “out of the queue” first.
Nine years ago today, Serenity and I stood before God and our families and friends and promised to love, honor and cherish each other so long as we both shall live. These nine years have been the happiest in my life, and I am ever grateful that this wonderful woman came into my life as my best friend and soulmate. Today should be a day of happiness, and in many ways it is, but unfortunately, it is tempered by some sadness as well.
This morning, we learned that one of those who shared our special day with us nine years ago, as well as so many other special days in my life, has left us. My dad called early this morning to tell us that my grandmother, his mother, had passed unexpectedly in the middle of the night. She’d been taken to the hospital last night by the fire department, and suffered respiratory arrest. My dad called me before he’d even gone to tell his stepfather that he is now a widower.
I’ve been blessed in my life to know four grandparents and two great-grandmothers, as well as one great-grandfather who saw my birth but passed before my first birthday. To be entirely technical, I only knew three grandparents and one stepgrandfather…my dad’s father died when he was still a boy…but his stepfather was married to my grandmother long before I was born and has been my grandfather in every way that matters. He’s now my last grandparent, and at 92 years of age, I know our time with him is limited as well.
My mother’s parents both passed some time ago, around the time Serenity and I were married. She only got to meet my grandfather once when we were first dating, and he was already in a convalescent home at that time. Even then, he had his sense of humor and abrupt nature, and asked me when I’d be putting a ring on her finger. Less than two years later, I did, but his name was read “in memory” at our wedding. My maternal grandmother never got to know Serenity, even though she was still with us at the time, due to the ravages of Alzheimer’s. She passed a few months after our wedding.
My great-grandmothers both lived long lives: one to her mid-90s and the other just shy of the century mark.
My grandmother who passed this morning lived a good, long life too. She would have turned 90 next spring, and was still active and free of any major health problems. In fact, until just a few months ago, she and my grandfather had lived in their own apartment before moving to an assisted living facility earlier this summer.
In some ways, I think that makes it harder to process her death. My maternal grandparents were both suffering from long-term health problems when they passed, and in many ways, death came as an end to suffering. My paternal grandmother, however, was as active and vibrant as you could expect an 89 year old woman to be, which makes it hard to think about her being struck down by a sudden (and relatively minor) illness. Still, as Mija just pointed out to me while chatting, to know she went quickly and without the ravages of a long, drawn out illness is a comfort. I’ve seen that process far too intimately, both in my own family and in my experiences as a firefighter, and I would wish that, when my own time comes, it be as short and easy.
And, so, I’ll close with words from her favorite hymn, which seem so fitting at this time.
Or, if on joyful wing cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, upward I’ll fly,
Still all my song shall be, nearer, my God, to Thee.
There in my Father’s home, safe and at rest,
There in my Savior’s love, perfectly blest;
Age after age to be, nearer my God to Thee.
I love you, Grandma. I will miss you, but I know you are home, safe and at rest. I love you.
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