Gone.

I know I sound like a broken record, but it is all I can think, it still seems unreal. I keep waiting for her to walk through the door.

This weekend was rough. Papaw was more down than ever, and it broke me to pieces. I felt helpless, knowing I cannot take away his pain. I watch him as he sets in a room full of people. 

Everything around him is moving, but he is stand still. 

The world is revolving but he is stopped in time.

I feel his pain.

I want her back.

It is that simple.

I wish I could say I understand.

I don’t.

I want God to give her back to us.

I find myself jealous of God and that He has her.

I miss her so.

Change is never fun…

but I am ready for the seasons to change. 

The cold keeps us inside and we can dwell and what was and now isn’t. 

I think of Joe on the movie Little Women, and how she tells Marmie, 

“I hate change..

Why can’t everything just stay the same?”

I know, Joe. Why can’t it?

I miss my childhood more than ever.

Grief deep down in my heart.

Grandma in the 1950's.

It still doesn’t seem real. I feel like this is the embedded statement in my brain.

 I keep expecting her to come around the corner…

and then after a while I am still sitting there, waiting but she never shows. 

It burns... this feeling. 

I never knew a loss like would be this excruciating. 

But it isn’t just any loss, it is losing her. 

She was the person I would talk to about everything and anything. 

Her smile was the one I depended on when I was down. 

Grandma was it.

I have sent God 120 questions in the past two weeks. Why her? Why so soon? Why now? Could you not have given her another 10 years, at least? …they go on and on, but I get no response. It doesn’t matter because it will not bring her back. I will never understand why. I have learned I need to stop questioning God because well, He is God. 

He knows better than I. 

I am just Aeron. 

My mind cannot comprehend or even fathom His ways. 

I  am so human.

I am just waiting for the day, where I can make it 24 hours without shedding a tear. I have my happy moments. I am going along with daily routines, keeping distracted but them wham! …Oh, wait Grandma is gone…and the happiness diminishes.

Early in the mornings and late at night are the hardest. Every day on my way to work, especially the past 2 months since I started a new job I would text Grandma in the morning to say I love you and she would respond, “Grandma loves her grandbaby.” …I keep waiting for the text, but it never comes. 

Man, how I hate the mornings right now. 

Then at night I roll over at 9:30 expecting to hear Grandma walking out the front door, hearing the bells jingle like they always did when she slammed the door…but I don’t hear the bells any longer. That is when I really break down. 

Life just doesn’t seem normal, it will never be my normal.

I have been dreaming of Heaven. 

How beautiful it will be when I go.

I dream of the most magical place…

like in Gladiator when Russell Crowe is walking through the fields…

I will be walking through the fields of wheat, touching the tall tops softly as I gracefully walk through a Heaven I have never dreamed of though.  

I approach the tall wooden gate; they slowly and magically open by themselves,

 as if they know I am coming. 

It is a site to see..,

 every loved one who has gone before me is there, and there She is, 

my Grandma. 

She is more angelic and beautiful than ever..with the same sweet smile that has been forever engraved in my mind. I run to her like a child and jump into her open arms. It has been a long wait for me, but just a short time for her…

and it finally happens, my perfect ending.. 

we get to spend an eternity together.

                                                                                                

The End

….or my mistake, The Beginning.

Grandma, You Are My Valentine.

(This is the Valentine's present you gave me last year Grandma.)

 

 This was one of your favorite songs.
 

This world just doesn't seem real right now, Grandma.

 I don't know if it ever will...without you.

I can still feel you, everywhere.

Your presence surrounds me.

I have never felt you closer.

I can see you sitting there smiling at me.

I feel you holding my hand.

The warmth they always give me.

You are the most beautiful person I know.

 

I am sorry I am just now writing again, Grandma.

You were just telling me the other day that I haven't written in a while.

You were always my biggest fan and read everything I wrote.

I know you are reading this one too.

So this is my Valentine's gift to you.

 

I wish it wasn't..

this way at least.

 

Valentine's Day.

I woke up this morning and the first thing I thought

of was you, of course.

 I know if I was walking through the kitchen now, on my way to work,

I would find a precious Valentine's gift from you on the cabinet, like the one above,

and

like every Valentines since I moved in.

You would have a little note like this one I found in my recipe book this week, saying...

 

Instead

I will just eat one of your Valentine's cookies you made Tuesday..

and remind you of how good they are.

It was the last thing I ate of yours before this all happened Tuesday afternoon...

It was your last gift to all your babies.

...

Tuesday.

2.11.14

I had just walked in from work Tuesday afternoon and into the kitchen to find

you had made all the beautiful Valentine's cookies that day.

They were laying there,  

on the cabinet,

like all the years before.

I didn't even hesitate to pick one up and

shove it in my mouth.

I am glad I did.

 

As I was halfway through eating it, you walked out of your bedroom..

and caught me, mid cookie.

 

You were in your nightgown and had your rollers in your hair.

You smelled of ponds.

I love that smell.

 I laughed about being caught and said sorry.

You told me, like always, "Don't say sorry. Those are for my babies."

I responded perfectly, "They are the best."

We talked about the weather and

the fact the roads could be bad later.

You mentioned you had to get more confectionary sugar that night at work

to ice the rest of the cookies on Wednesday..

You HAD to get them done so you could send them to everyone.

I said, "You'll get it done."

Pretty sure of myself.

 

I then said these words.. and I will  ALWAYS be grateful to God I did,

"I love you Grandma, goodnight."

"I love you too." You said.

 

Not even knowing the events coming just 30 minutes later.

But I will stop there.

 Because that is not how I will choose to remember you!

You would not want it to be!

 

I will remember YOU AND I

 sharing a Valentine's cookie,

 together.

 

It was God's Valentine's gift to me..

but He has always given me so much more.

He gave me so many precious memories over the past few months since

I moved back.

I questioned God before, but I never will again.

So many events that seemed unfortunate at the time,

brought me back to my bedroom in your house back on October 24th.

 

I am glad when I had the flu last month

I spent it

in our home.

You laid a cold rag on my face and made me chicken dumplings.

Chicken dumplings was your favorite meal your grandma made..

and now it is mine.

 

You always have a way of making me feel

like a child again.

I would go for runs and before I walked out the door

I would hear you "Aeron, please be careful,

Grandma worries about you."

Like a teenager, I would roll my eyes and say I will be fine.

I would do anything to hear those words again.

But now you will be running with me..

like you always wanted.

 

You always would get teary eyed talking about how much you missed your grandma.

And I will do the same with you.

I understand those tears more than ever...

and they burn my face.

 

But I find comfort in the fact that your Grandma

was the first person who greeted you

Tuesday afternoon with the same words

you sent me a few months ago,

"Welcome Home!"

 

I feel blessed to have you as my Valentine.

I am the blessed one.

To be one of Kitty Bradford's babies.

 

Every Valentines you will be all of our family's Valentines. 

Because you left us more than the cookies.

You left us so much love.

You left us a legacy.

 

I know when you read this..

Your response

will be this.

Just like the one you sent me a year ago.

It makes me smile..

because I can hear you.

 I hope I always continue to make you proud,

in everything I do.

 

Love you infinity....

Your little Jenny

 

Valentines cookies made by Grandma, 2.11.14.

I adore them both.

I can still feel your arms around me.

You always say, "You'd be beautiful bald,

or in a paper sack."

I also love how you always speak in third person.

You are and always will be the true beauty in my life.

 

 

Inner Strength

“You just proved to your body{ies}, through your mind, that you can push yourself further than you thought possible.”
-Lone Survivor

Someone once said, “You can do anything you set your mind to.”

I proved that to myself one year ago, when I ran my first marathon.

Literally, the hardest physically but mostly mentally,

Challenge I have ever persevered.

……

It seems a silly thing….

To believe this bold statement,

“anything you set your mind to”

….

Like a child believes in the tooth fairy.

I am no longer a child,

And found falsehood in this statement.

I debated it.

I loathed it.

I despised it…

……

Once upon a time,

I set out to join the military.

I ‘set my mind’ to achieving this goal.

My heart beat everyday with the yearning for servitude.

..to be draped in the colors of our country,

To sweat,

To bleed,

For our country.

To stand alongside the proud men and women.

My heart still pours out for this desire,

Every.

Single.

Day.

Though now it is safely tucked away,

But still in my heart.

Where hurt can no longer find it,

But every now and then cuts like a knife.

Where desire might have been lost,

But I know can still  be found.

And hope is somewhat small,

But carries a small glimmer

Like a small star in the dark, night sky.

I know it exists, just like the sun rises each morning.

It is a part of me,

Forever.

I know it is what fuels me.

I find strength in my runs.

I find that inner strength more than ever as I reach mile 14, 15, 16..

I set my mind to finishing the race.

24, 25, 26.

My body says no,

But my mind ignores it.

It listens instead,

To the beautiful voice of reason.

The one saying,

You can do this.

You can finish.

You are strong.

…

It is my inner strength.

It is God.

I know that is with God,

 I can run forever.

It is not my muscles doing all the work, but my heart and mind.

I do believe one’s mind can push your body to extremes.

I wish my mind could control the outcomes of my life,

But that is the falsehood that rings true.

Only God plans my life.

It is something so dear, so very precious,

 that is left to my God…

and this is where my mind gets confused with my heart. My heart tells me to trust God..

And I have to trust Him,

But my mind wants to keep pushing for my desires.

I try hard to let go of my bitter anger.

I tell myself time and time again He looks out for me,

But a little of the hurt lingers from my lost dream.

For now, I will thank Him for the inner strength

He gives me every day.

The strength that not only tells my mind, but tells my body I can finish the race.

How beautiful is endurance.

How beautiful is determination.

How beautiful is inner-strength.

How beautiful is love,

For that is what He has and always will,

love me.

                                                                                        

Upside Down


I love this short and sweet story.
A huge message in few words...
 .................
 Today I was approached by a homeless man who asked if I had any change. 
I only had two quarters, but I gave it to him anyway.
As I watched him walk away,
he put the quarters in an expired parking meter of a stranger's car.
 
Someone who couldn't even afford to buy himself something to eat,
instead used what little he had to give others.
...................

What a beautiful example of giving.

I was touched by this story.

Seems kind of upside down.
The homeless man...giving.
Honestly, he probably has more than most of us have.
He holds a treasure worth more than any earthly fortune.
A humble and giving heart.

This is the treasure I long for.

I admit to struggling with giving.
It is a quality I would like to see wither.
I would rather flourish as
one who, without inhibitions, gives even her last 2 quarters.

I have always thought much of the widow,
who gave it all.
 ..............

As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury.  He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins.  “Truly I tell you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.^"

^{.....................}
 

So during this giving holiday let us remember what real giving looks like.

...and remember who gave it all for us.

 

Hope Written

 

I cannot help but let myself get carried away in questions to God..

Why me, God?

Two months ago I truly felt blogging was coming to an end.
 

I was going to close this chapter of my life.
 

And if I was being really honest it was partially because I wanted to be released from an obligation.

It is like running. If someone makes me run, I hate it...but on my own terms I can run forever...

Fortunately, something compelled me to keep writing.

and I am very thankful...

 

Last week I was sitting in my car when my phone went off.

I had received an email.

It was titled, "'Bleed", and I did not think much of it until I started reading the message.

I was instantly captivated by the words.
As I continued to read, I felt an overwhelming emotion....

The email was from a reader ..
She had discovered my page just by googling 'beautifully broken'.
....
It is times like these that I do not believe in coincidence.
....
It spoke to me.
It pierced my heart..
in a good way.
She shared with me her story...
and she blew me away with her sweet words.
She spoke of heartache, of hurt, of disappoint,
but most importantly,
of Hope.

It was by far one of the most heartfelt letters I have read.
She might not know this, but it encouraged me to continue writing.
I want to thank her for this,
and for opening her heart.


 I do not know the intimate details of her journey,
but I felt honored to see a little into her life.

I could not help but feel close to her.

..To feel understanding and relate in a way maybe not all can.
...and that is when it hit.

I constantly question God, "Why me? Why this?"
But in one email I understood.

Relation.

I can relate to her on a level that I could not have 5 years ago.
 I found my answer..
it was there, in black in white,
staring back at me in The Email.

It was Hope written.

And I realize the answer has been there all along..
My answer is in the heartfelt emails from readers.
My answer is in the letters of testimony shared with me.
My answer is in the conversations with friends...
who too have suffered and then found
a Hope that we can only understand.

We can all feel a togetherness...
and know,
we are not alone.

I hope more can see,
what this reader saw.
The rainbow after the storm.

And this is
my Hope, written.
 

Bleed. {Part 2-Don't give up.}

As I flew away Monday night, I looked down over Omaha and felt homesick already.
I was crushed...
I start to fall in my mind....
With Omaha, a piece of my heart would stay....
It wasn't the place I would be missing, but the lost dream of being in the military..
It cut to my heart, like for the first time....
The higher we flew, the more it hurt....
I am lifted higher into the clouds, and the events of the weekend unfold in my mind....
..............
On top of feeling like my world was closing in on me like years before. I had no clue I would soon begin to bleed for another.
One of my dearest of friends, an Air Force pilot, shared this...
Her own heartache struck her this year, when her vision would keep her from the air, forever...
.....never will she deploy again. .....never will she taste the sweetness of flying a plane. .....never will she serve in the military, it will just be a distant memory of the past. Like it is for me.
My spirit was crushed. I feel for her instantly….
I could see in her a heartache that was all too familiar.
.....the heartache of the world suddenly turning upside down. .....the heartache of not being in the military. .....the heartache of never flying. .....the heartache of losing a dream to a real live nightmare.

I bleed for her.

As I step foot on base, men and women in uniform walk around me.
I feel small.
My vision blurs.
It feels like home and a nightmare all at the same time.
I feel overwhelmed with emotion, of happiness and hurt. It burns.. because I can see myself among them, being one of them. I am wearing the uniform. I have done it.
I am living the dream.
Then reality hits me in the face. I walk away with no hope of discovering true happiness.
.................
My past comes back and haunts me, again. I wake up in the middle of the night, from a dream... the same dream... ..Where I am in the military. I awaken only to discover it is just that, ....a dream, ....and I am living the nightmare..
I beg God to please say something...
anything...
Something in me makes believes He is trying to...
...That it is not over yet.
Perhaps I gave up too soon...?
Was this nightmare supposed to be a hard reminder?..to fill me with a passion like before. .. so that I might give it one more shot?
Is this why the nightmares continue?
I don't want to give up.
I'm not ready.
I don't want to say goodbye to it yet.. Is this what He is saying?
Is this why my memories came flooding back?
Say something, God…
And maybe... He already did.

Bleed. {Part 1}

There was a moment in time when my motivation to get up every morning was the hope my dream would become a reality. I once believed in this hope, but I lost it.

This weekend I spent the Veterans Holiday with some of my most cherished veterans in my life, officers of the United States Air Force.

The sun once shined on days when I lived and breathed with the most beautiful of dreams.

This weekend was bittersweet. Memories were made with my dear friends, but old, hurtful memories filled my head. The wounds of my heartache from two years ago, when I was given the news my military dream was over, reopened. The hurt came rushing back in as I visited Offutt AFB once again. I started to bleed as I was reminded.
{You can read I HAD A DREAM...A LITTLE OF MY STORY by clicking the post on the side of the page, if you have not already..It may give you a peek into my journey with the AF.}
This weekend, I was reminded of my passion for the military. I was reminded of my desire to serve along these men and women. I was reminded of how strong my heart bled to become one of them.
I honestly had forgotten how hurt I had once felt. I thought I was over it, but I am not. I wish I could say I am, but the human in me cries.
I once believed.
I believed my dreams could happen. I believed in myself. And the most greatest belief, I believed that God would make my dreams take flight.

I wish I still did.
Instead I continue to bleed.

Whisper

  It is a soft sound in my ear. Never is it loud, but just assurance that He is there... with me. It always seems to come, right when I am about to give up. Give up on the hope that He wants the best for me..Give up on the dreams to do great things for Him...so many beautiful things, that could be lost, out in the abiss, but then I hear it... A whisper. His gentle voice is telling me to not give up, to never lose hope, keep trusting, keep holding on..for He is with me, always. Romans 8:28
 

No Greater Love

I want to share with you an excerpt from No Greater Love, story from Mother Teresa...
~~~~~
One day I found a little girl in the street, so I took her to our children's home. We have a nice place and good food there. We gave her clean clothes and we made her as happy as we could.
After a few hours, the little girl ran away. I looked for her, but I couldn't find her anywhere. Then after a few days, I found her again. And, again, I brought her to our home and told a sister, "Sister, please, follow this child whereever she goes." The little girl ran away again. But the sister followed to find out where she was going and why she kept running away.
She followed the little girl and discovered that the little one's mother was living under a tree in the street. The mother had placed two stones there and did her cooking under that tree.
The sister sent word to me and I went there. I found joy on that little girl's face, because she was with her mother, who loved her and was making special food for her in that little open place.
I asked the little girl, "How is it that you would not stay with us? You had so many beautiful things in our home."
She answered, "I could not live without my mother. She loves me. "That little girl was happier to have the meager food her mother was cooking in the street than all the things I had given her.
While the child was with us, I could scarcely see a smile on her face. But when I found her there with her mother, in the street, they were smiling.
Why? Because they were family.
~~~~~~

Loving strangers can be easy, it is loving those closest to me that can be difficult. I believe, like Mother Teresa, we should start with love in the home.
This poor (literally not spiritually) mother loved her daughter so dearly that she would rather be with her, in the streets, that in a warm shelter with more food than she had ever seen.
Love goes a long way.
It is what this world is lacking.
Start with your children. Make it spread like wildflowers, then watch it grow, into a beautiful world full of love. It is the only way we can create change.
We Love, because HE first Loved us.
1 John 4:19
There is no greater love...