Long gone.

Some things will never be normal..

Like walking into my Grandma's house,

looking for her in the kitchen,

her bedroom,

upstairs...

and not finding her there.

Never normal.

I get frustrated at God

when I think of Him taking her from me.

Not being able to share my first year of teaching with her.

Not having her at my wedding.

My children never being able to meet her.

I try all I can to stop these thoughts.

But it is hard for me to stop

the memory of me trying

to bring her back to life.

....

Nights are the hardest...

Something drew me to her last night.

I think because I needed to talk to someone,

and she was that someone for the longest time.

So

I drove up to the cemetery.

I

walked in the gates

and just 

stopped.

My feet froze.

I couldn't even make it all the way to

her grave without stopping and bursting into tears.

The cemetery was pitch black

but all I could see was her face.

The one I haven't seen for many months now,

...too long ago.

I stood there for a while just soaking in the reality of her disappearance.

I never did make it all the way to her grave.

I couldn't.

I drove around for 30 minutes,

just listening to music she liked.

Trying to feel my mind with sweet memories of her.

...

Breakfast

Waking up on Saturday and Sunday mornings

in her house always meant one thing.

Breakfast.

No matter how tired or busy Grandmas was,

she always found time to make breakfast

for Papaw, me and whoever showed up.

"What do you want?"

She always asked and never assumed.

Waffles.

That was my typical response.

I probably went through a bottle of syrup every two months.

Biscuits and gravy.

Another favorite...

Actually the last breakfast she made me

two days before she passed away.

Birds.

Sitting on the front porch swing.

We would sit out there and watch the hummingbirds

come to her feeder on hot summer days.

She loved birds.

We would talk about nature and how we loved 

the beautiful countryside God created,

and that we didn't care too much for the city life.

Reading the bible.

If I had a Bible question, 

I knew who to ask.

She soaked it up like a sponge,

and I would just be mesmerized by her wisdom.

She truly was and is an angel.

Basketball.

We had an equal infatuation with the NBA.

Grandma loved her some Dirk Nowitzki though.

I am a Spurs fan,

But we would watch the games together

anyway.

Singing.

I loved listening to her sing on Sunday mornings.

She sang loud and I could feel her worshiping.

I think I was really feeling her love.. and how

it poured

out of her voice.

Service.

Grandma always served.

There was never any request should would

not fulfill for her babies.

She would do everything for us.

Sacrifice anything.

She lived and breathed for God and her family.

Grandma had one thing she wanted for us all ultimately,

to be happy.

So that is what I choose.

Happiness..

not sorrow.

I am learning to cope..

I am learning to hold on to the good memories my Grandma gave me..

and ultimately learning to lean on God

and let His incredible love

live in me,

just like Grandma did.

She is long gone...

to a place far better than this world.

But her love isn't.

It's in me.

I can feel it.

The Fuel.

I read somewhere a few months back that you can live without 

water and food

for so long, 

but it is impossible to live without 

Hope.

Hope is what fuels me.

Hope is the reason I get out of bed every morning.

Hope is the thing I lean on when I hurt from the loss

of Grandma.

Hope is what I see when everything seems lost.

Hope is what pushes me to see beyond the 

suffering and despair.

Hope is the morning sun and knowing

it will rise every day,...

whether there are clouds or not.

Hope inspires me to look above this world.

Hope grows from the flowers that

I trust and know bloom every spring.

Hope is my strength.

Hope is knowing God put me on this Earth

for a reason.

Hope is my fuel.

God has given me an incredible amount of hope in my life,

especially over the past year.

I have had many ups and downs, twists and turns,

but all leading me to a life filled with 

hope.

Without hope, I would have been lost.

But the main point I am getting at is this..

my hope would  not exist without Him.

If God didn't dwell in me,

there would be no hope.

Without God's love and knowing how He sacrificed 

His one and only son for me..and for you,

I would have no hope,

no hope for a beautiful life,

no hope for love,

no hope for a life

beyond this world,

no hope for an eternity with Him.

That is where my hope ultimately lies.

In Him.

And just as surely as the promised rainbow after the storm,

I have a hope that endures.

1 Corinthians 15:19

If only in this life we have hope in Christ,

we are of all people most to be pitied.

hope rising up.

la vita e bella.

life is beautiful, in italiano.

A whirlwind of a year it has been...

ups and downs,

loss and heartaches,

grief and hurt,

all great teachers

that have grown my faith.

I once heard that grief is the most powerful teacher,

whoever said this,

was right.

It is.

I thought I had already endured enough in the past

few years to create enough perseverance to

last a lifetime.

Man, was I wrong.

A couple of months ago 

I felt like my hope was slowly disappearing.

I find out my aunt has breast cancer.

4 weeks later I lose Grandma.

A month later Papaw scares me with a late night visit to the hospital.

Two weeks after that we almost lose my uncle.

It just seemed like my family couldn't get a break.

I didn't know if I would ever be 100% again. 

I was waking up thinking, "what will happen next?".

My joy that always felt so apparent 

was gone.

I was not the Aeron that everyone knew.

That God sees.

I honestly felt that I would only ever be 80% of who I once was.

Every now and then something great would happen,

but then I would remember all my sufferings..

....

how Grandma was gone,

and not coming back..

reliving the moment I lay beside her on the 

ground while she took her last breaths.

...This was my thought process.

My 100% was never going to happen.

I hated it.

But something clicked.

I started

listening.

To the right voice.

The one of 

hope,

assurance,

love.

I have stopped listening to the other voice,

the one telling me lies,

and started listening 

to Him.

His voice is so clear..

You are strong.

You are blessed.

You have so much to be thankful for.

You can and will be 100% again.

I believe it.

My joy will not only come back,

but be tenfold.

I feel it.

I have faith that He has a beautiful life ahead of me.

There is no promise there will be no more heartaches.

But I do know I will be stronger because of the trials I have faced.

...and I am grateful.

Hope is rising up in me.

Consider it pure joys, my brothers, when you face trials

of various kinds,

because you know that the testing of your faith

produces perseverance.

Perseverance must finish your work 

so it is complete,

lacking in nothing.

James 1.2-4

Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

Wow, what a beautiful weekend it was.

I am so overjoyed right now I cannot stand it!

The past year has been one of the most difficult part of my journey.

I have been faced with grief, loss, change

in every way possible one could imagine.

I feel I have experienced more in the past few months than in my lifetime.

but I am thankful.

God is working in me in a way I never imagined.

I feel closer to Him than ever!

It is one of the most indescribable feelings.

I thought after Grandma going home almost two months (that is weird to say)

I would never be the same.

And I was right..

but not in the idea I had in mind.

He is breaking me even more,

into something beautiful.

I go back to the moment after I found Grandma,

the EMTs were there and I walked outside

and literally

fell to my knees, 

to my face.

I was eating the dirt 

with my tears

and just begging God,

"Keep her breathing"

it was all I could say.

and all I could manage to cry out,

"God, keep her breathing".

I have never fallen to me knees ..

a moment of desperation...

filled with pain 

that only those who have ever begged for a life,

understand.

I wish no one would ever have to experience

those 30 minutes of Hell.

The tears I shed on that ground,

begging for her life.

It was a moment of pure nakedness..

of surrender..

I think of David when he begged God to spare his child... 

picture this...

A man after God's own heart..

16 David pleaded with God for the child. He fasted and spent the nights lying in sackcloth on the ground.  

And then I think of David, and how he acted

after he still lost his child...

17 The elders of his household stood beside him to get him up from the ground, but he refused, and he would not eat any food with them.

18 On the seventh day the child died. David’s attendants were afraid to tell him that the child was dead, for they thought, “While the child was still living, he wouldn’t listen to us when we spoke to him. How can we now tell him the child is dead? He may do something desperate.”19 David noticed that his attendants were whispering among themselves, and he realized the child was dead. “Is the child dead?” he asked. 

“Yes,” they replied, “he is dead.” 

20 Then David got up from the ground. After he had washed, put on lotions and changed his clothes,he went into the house of the Lord and worshiped. Then he went to his own house, and at his request they served him food, and he ate.21 His attendants asked him, “Why are you acting this way? While the child was alive, you fasted and wept, but now that the child is dead, you get up and eat!” 

22 He answered, “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, ‘Who knows? The Lord may be gracious to me and let the child live.’  

23 But now that he is dead, why should I go on fasting? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me.”

 I did all I could to keep Grandma alive.

I prayed for mercy.

I prayed for grace.

I prayed to have her a little longer.

God's plan was different,

it IS different.

I cannot go on reliving that moment.
Grandma cannot come back,
a hard and always painful truth.
I will still go on missing her, everyday,
but
I must move on from that horrible
30 minutes
 and live the way God and Grandma
both want me to live..
A full and happy life.
One filled with the sweet memories of my Grandma
and more beautiful memories to come.

There is a reason and a season for everything.

There are storms when we least expect them,

but there is always His promise too.

A promise of a rainbow.

One filled with all different beautiful colors.

We might have to search for it in the clouds,

but it is there,

it is always there.

And I know, somewhere over the Rainbow,

is my Grandma, waiting for me to one day come home....

where bluebirds fly....

Close My Eyes.

Pain.

 Reality.

 Anger.

All Sets in.

Crashing in all at once I cry for God to take it away.

Yesterday was the hardest day.

As Papaw and I drove home from dinner we reminisced.

I drive as I see him weep for his love.

The hurt is so deep it takes my breath away.

I try sucking back the tears but they flow instead.

I wept.

I know I am missing a big piece of our puzzle and it will never be complete

Until we see her in another world.

The moments of longing feel like an eternity. This has been the longest month of my life.

I miss Grandma.

I miss her so much my heart feels like it will explode.

Last night my mind was wrapped around our last moments.

And

I thought of Jesus and how He brought Lazarus back from the dead.

To have that power..

I would do or give anything to have her back here.

Take it all God, everything I have.

I would sacrifice it all even for a few more minutes with her.

God has given me dreams.

I have dreamed.

Twice.

Twice I have had her in my dreams.

Last night’s dream I clung to her.

I cried desperately in my dream, holding onto her like I never wanted to let go.

I begged her to never leave me….it was so vivid.

It was as real as you and me.

Grief is unexplainable.

I wish I could say it gets easier.

All I want is for things to be as they once were.

I close my eyes and wish it hard.

I Hear You in the Birds' Song.

This short poem was written, Tuesday, March 11th.,

one month since Grandma went home.

Words of my heart.

I Hear You in the Birds' Song.

It has been a lifetime since I saw you,

One month since you went away.

I'm trying to get by without shedding a tear,

But there hasn’t been a day.

I feel you in the wind when I run,

I hear you in the birds,

And see you in the daffodils,

Dancing in the sun.

But it doesn’t fill this hole,

The piece that is missing in my heart.

I don’t know if it well ever heal,

It has just completely fallen apart.

Mornings are difficult,

But nights are the worst.

I want to be complete again,

it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

I take time each day to think of memories past,

Of conversations we had.

Like the ones where we spoke of God,

And how His love, it lasts.

You always knew the right words to say,

The words they flowed.

I never knew how or why,

But now I think I know...

This world needed people like you,

Giving, loving, kind.

To show us true love,

The kind that is hard to find.

There is comfort knowing you’re home,

Where there is no worries, no hurt, no end.

And I will continue to think of that every day,

Until we meet again.

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.