Life. Death. Does it get any easier?
At 4 years old I lost my "grandfather Jack". I do not have a lot of memories of him. I remember his funeral. I remember seeing him in the hospital before he died. I remember that he loved me so much. He always gave me butterscotch.
At 6 I lost my dad's dad "Little Pop". He was really funny. I remember going to his house and the hospital bed being there. I remember mama telling me he had died. I remember some of his funeral. That is about all I know about him.
At 14 I lost my great aunt Pauline. She funny and crazy and just wonderful. I understood what was going on and knew that she was going to die.
At 17 I lost my mom's mom "Pop". My brother is so much like him. It is crazy. I wish I had known him better. I wish I had more memories.
I have lost many other people in my life. Never does it get easier. Expected or unexpected. As I try to prepare myself for losing my Granny Liz I wish I had the wisdom, strength and selflessnes that I had at 4 when I told people at Jacks funeral not to cry because he was with our Lord now. I know she is in a lot of pain and that she is suffering and I hate that. But it does not mean I am ready to let her go. I guess I never will be.
No, you're not ever ready. It happens anyway. You hold onto the memories that you have, and you be grateful for who you still have with you. When it's a situation such as this where it's expected to be a matter of time, it's certainly tough. You know that letting them go, to ease their pain, is going to cause your own pain. You carry a piece of all those people with you, because they are part of who they were. Take the goodness; the things you admired about them, and try to carry that with you and apply it in your own life when you can. I know words don't make this any easier, but you are stronger inside than you know, and you will be okay. Love you.
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