What else can I call this post? There are just moments in life that you can't put in a title. Some are good, some are bad, and some you just can't define. How do you label a moment when you are sad, but can't be sad for the person you are sad about? I know, doesn't make much sense. Let me get it out.
We are re-arranging our basement (and putting part of our upstairs, downstairs to rid the clutter upstairs). So I am moving all my scrapbooking stuff. I get to my table tonight and right on the top of everything is the last papers I put on the table to file away for scrapbooking...eventually. What is it? It's the program from my Grandma Pollock's funeral. While I can go most days without getting emotional about it, mostly because she lived 16 hours away and I tend to pretend I just haven't spoken to her in awhile, tonight hit me hard. I looked at the verses spoken, poems read, and songs sung....and it hit me. My Grandma is not here to speak with. I know it's not good-bye forever, just "see ya later" but it hit me that I don't know when I will get to see her again.
I have 3 Grandpas up in heaven, but Grandma JoAnn was the first Grandma that I lost. I know she loved me, and I loved her. Maybe that's why it's hard...the first of something is always hard.
I don't know if it's biblical to think this way, but I tend to feel that she's with me a lot of the time. I imagine that she's watching over me. And with as many butterflies as I see, it's got to be true. When I see one, I usually say hi to it, as if talking to her. Yes, label me crazy, but I do it. I did something similar (and still do) with my Grandpa Pollock. When I'm singing in the van I pretend he's in there with me listening...so I always try to sing my best.
I guess I just had a moment that I missed her like crazy. (ok...it's been an emotional night for other things too)
So I guess my next scrapbook project will be to get the page done for my Grandma. I think it will be good therapy.
And God, can you please tell my Grandma that I love her and miss her? Give her a hug for me. Oh...and don't forget Grandpa. Tell him it's from his "Melissa Dawn".
Here's a poem that was found in my Grandma's Bible and was read at her funeral. I feel the need to hold on to it dearly.
ON THE TWENTY THIRD PSALM
"In pastures green"? Not always; sometimes He who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me in weary ways where heavy shadows be.
And "by still waters"? No, not always so; ofttimes around me the heavy tempests round me blow, and o'er my soul the waves and billows go.
But when the storm beats loudest and I cry aloud for help, the Master standeth by, and whispers to my soul, "Lo, it is I".
So where He leads me, I can safely go, and in the blest hereafter I shall know, why, in His wisdom, he hath led me so.
