Time is passing and I failed to realize just how difficult life can be. In 4 weeks, or 31 days, life managed to get a hold of our family. The precious reminder of how fragile life is, of just how short life can truly be. My grandmother, sweet Neno, went to Heaven on July 25th. My Dad made his journey to Heaven on August 26th. Words cannot describe how hard the past few weeks have been.
No one asks for difficulty. No one asks for grief. No one asks for pain. I wonder though in my feeble mind, "how can this be good?" Don't be hard on yourself if you've asked the same thing or something similar. If I have learned one thing through this difficult season, it's that life is a gift. Each and every breath that we take is something beautiful.
When our family found out a few months ago that Neno had multiple masses on her liver, decisions were made to promote her comfort instead of many painful procedures with no optimal outcome. Neno lived life with grace. She always had a smile on her face, even when she encountered so much pain and discomfort as she approached the end of her life. Life was a blessing to her. She cherished every moment and enjoyed the small things - sitting outside, listening to Elvis, rubbing her cat (that was only nice to her), ice cream, and of course, being retired.
As I start to look back, I realized a similar thing with my Dad. He was diagnosed with ALS/Lou Gehrig's Disease on February 1, 2018. He was initially told he probably had between 3-5 years remaining, but had probably already been living with the disease for at least a year or two. My Dad chose that day to live out his life, doing the things he enjoyed, and to get a chance to say good-bye. I don't think it was morbid, but a way for him to reach closure with his disease and let those around him know how much he cherished them. Like Neno, Dad enjoyed the small things - watching movies in the middle of the night with his mother, football games, friends visiting, pound cake, and something as simple as a warm towel wrapped around his feet at bedtime.
I'm beginning to see just how much the small things can mean. Time with family, nature, self-care, animals, art. God is in all of that. Grief is weird. It ebbs and flows like waves on the ocean. At one point, you are good, one point you are low. It's a process that is unique to each person on the journey. If you're reading this you probably knew my Dad or my grandmother, Neno. Please know you were loved by them. Trust the process and know that all things will be worked for good. This chapter in your story will be one you navigate through, much like others before.
Be kind to yourself. In our weakest moments, we can be the most hard on ourselves. Learn to love yourself. Trust that God is guiding your life. He doesn't abandon even when the pain feels oh so immense. We will be okay. Time will bring healing. I know that one day all of this will be made right. At the end of the day, God is still good. For now, I will be grateful for the small things, the big things, and everything in between.
"And this will be my song
That You are always good
I'll sing it all day long
That You are always good
And when the day is through, I am left with
You are always, You are always good."
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