If you follow me on instagram then you know I've been rather emotional lately. Is that the nice way of calling myself an emotional wreck? A ticking time bomb? Maybe just a train wreck. You get the idea. Between life and flaws and hurts and laundry and adoption and busy schedules and housekeeping and keeping hungry bellies fed, I'm feeling it.
And then my grandmother died. She turned 96 in February, so she lived a good, long life, and she died peacefully, surrounded by all who love her. But now. But now? She's...gone. And I wish she wasn't. It's a hard thing to watch someone who was once so spirited and full of life dwindle into a shell of what used to be. That's how it had been over the past few years with my Gram. On the one hand, I hated to see her like that; on the other, I hated the thought of losing her, too. Now she is fully restored and filled with joy and made complete in Jesus Christ, whom she loved with all her heart. She's probably telling John the Baptist some joke right now, laughing it up like only the ones who really lived can. This is good, wonderful news, and it does bring comfort. But saying goodbye is so, so hard. Nobody is ever ready for goodbye.
In keeping things a bit private, I'm going to post just this picture of Isabelle on one of our trips to visit Great Gram. One of our traditions was to bring her the first bouquet of flowers from our yard. I remember having to cheat a bit the year we moved in here because there wasn't anything yet, ha!, and this one is from a few years back. Isabelle looks so small! And perfect and precious and lovely. I miss her at that age and I'm grateful to have these beautiful memories forever captured.
I love you, Gram, and I already miss you so much. I will one day see you and hug you again. Love, your little Bethie