It is amazing what you can remember by looking at one picture.
This picture has so many memories behind it and I don’t even know what to do with all of them when they come bubbling up out of me. When I look at this picture, I see the smile of my sweet little. He was nine at the time. He had grown his hair in an attempt to look like his seventeen-year-old and fifteen-year-old brothers, but bless...it did not work. His hair was long and shaggy and it took all that I could to not shave it off in his sleep. When he started playing basketball that year, he decided that his long hair was more of a pain than he thought and we made an appointment to cut it off. This picture was taken just after we finished with his haircut. I took it and sent it to his Dad, his Mimi, and his Nana. All the while, during this haircut and over the past few days, we’d been waiting for results of some pretty important tests. Our sweet Nana had fallen ill and no one knew what was wrong. Little did we know that just minutes after taking this picture, we’d get news that would change our lives forever.
When I think about the timing of it all, it almost takes me down.
The sadness that followed in the next few months is hard to talk about, understand, and explain. None of it makes any sense. And for those of us who were in the thick of it, we are still in shock over her loss. Again-none of it makes sense.
I’m not writing this to be sad. However, I do think writing (for me) is sometimes an expression of grief and it is important to get these things out there.
I’m writing this because when I see this picture, I remember so much. I remember the feelings. The looks on the faces of those I love the very most in this world as we tried to sort out the details of the news we had received. I remember the tears and the hugs that came with all of the questions and conversations. I remember her amazing faith. I could go into great detail, but this would never end.
On a daily basis, I lose my coffee cup at least six times. I forget my purse or my phone, or my workout bag, or my computer, every single time I leave the house. But this...this picture...and the events that followed, I remember without missing a beat.
There are many moments I wish I could forget.
But then I think about how much we’ve learned through all we’ve been through as a family. I think about the strength she left and that we gained because of her faith, her fight, and ultimately her healing.
I think about how much we love our family. I remember the words, the tears, the daily struggle during the four months we walked with her as she fought her cancer.
And then...I think about how much we all miss her. Her love. Her laugh. Her smile. Her kind eyes. Her helpfulness. Her attitude of service. Her friendship. Her guidance. Her lists. Oh, how she loved to write and check off every item on her list. They used to drive me crazy. Now what we wouldn’t give to hear one more of her lists.
I write this because two years ago, our lives changed in so many ways. No one asked us if we wanted to change. No one prepared us for what was to come next. I know some of you reading this understand this more than anyone ever wants to. I write this because we never know what tomorrow brings. This picture is a reminder to me to be in this moment and to not take anyone that I love for granted.
Nana would want us to remember the good and not the bad. Eventually, I think we will all be able to shake these awful memories of her illness. I also think she had to have a hand in this picture being the “one” that we remember. She happened to love this little freckle face.
A lot.
So many of us have lost someone we love. So many have been through traumatic situations that leave them with these memories and emotions. Maybe, we can all relate and use them for good. Life can be so hard to understand. But by being understanding, maybe we can make these roads a little smoother for those traveling them now.
This picture has so many memories behind it and I don’t even know what to do with all of them when they come bubbling up out of me. When I look at this picture, I see the smile of my sweet little. He was nine at the time. He had grown his hair in an attempt to look like his seventeen-year-old and fifteen-year-old brothers, but bless...it did not work. His hair was long and shaggy and it took all that I could to not shave it off in his sleep. When he started playing basketball that year, he decided that his long hair was more of a pain than he thought and we made an appointment to cut it off. This picture was taken just after we finished with his haircut. I took it and sent it to his Dad, his Mimi, and his Nana. All the while, during this haircut and over the past few days, we’d been waiting for results of some pretty important tests. Our sweet Nana had fallen ill and no one knew what was wrong. Little did we know that just minutes after taking this picture, we’d get news that would change our lives forever.
When I think about the timing of it all, it almost takes me down.
The sadness that followed in the next few months is hard to talk about, understand, and explain. None of it makes any sense. And for those of us who were in the thick of it, we are still in shock over her loss. Again-none of it makes sense.
I’m not writing this to be sad. However, I do think writing (for me) is sometimes an expression of grief and it is important to get these things out there.
I’m writing this because when I see this picture, I remember so much. I remember the feelings. The looks on the faces of those I love the very most in this world as we tried to sort out the details of the news we had received. I remember the tears and the hugs that came with all of the questions and conversations. I remember her amazing faith. I could go into great detail, but this would never end.
On a daily basis, I lose my coffee cup at least six times. I forget my purse or my phone, or my workout bag, or my computer, every single time I leave the house. But this...this picture...and the events that followed, I remember without missing a beat.
There are many moments I wish I could forget.
But then I think about how much we’ve learned through all we’ve been through as a family. I think about the strength she left and that we gained because of her faith, her fight, and ultimately her healing.
I think about how much we love our family. I remember the words, the tears, the daily struggle during the four months we walked with her as she fought her cancer.
And then...I think about how much we all miss her. Her love. Her laugh. Her smile. Her kind eyes. Her helpfulness. Her attitude of service. Her friendship. Her guidance. Her lists. Oh, how she loved to write and check off every item on her list. They used to drive me crazy. Now what we wouldn’t give to hear one more of her lists.
I write this because two years ago, our lives changed in so many ways. No one asked us if we wanted to change. No one prepared us for what was to come next. I know some of you reading this understand this more than anyone ever wants to. I write this because we never know what tomorrow brings. This picture is a reminder to me to be in this moment and to not take anyone that I love for granted.
Nana would want us to remember the good and not the bad. Eventually, I think we will all be able to shake these awful memories of her illness. I also think she had to have a hand in this picture being the “one” that we remember. She happened to love this little freckle face.
A lot.
So many of us have lost someone we love. So many have been through traumatic situations that leave them with these memories and emotions. Maybe, we can all relate and use them for good. Life can be so hard to understand. But by being understanding, maybe we can make these roads a little smoother for those traveling them now.
Tell people what they mean to you.
Do the things that make you happy.
Forgive those who have wronged you.
Apologize for hurting others.
Give the compliments.
Go the extra mile.
Work hard and love harder.
Referee of Three
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