I’m in Pennsylvania soaking up precious time with my grandma.
I had originally scheduled vacation for the second half of the week into Memorial Day–where we had big plans for walks and finding “handsome gentlemen” and playing Dirty Scrabble. Unfortunately a call about Wednesday not being soon enough if I wanted to say goodbye sent me out there straight away. Thanks to my wonderful team at work for letting me go.
It’s funny. Even in dying–with the constant fight for words, the strength fleeting and the feet purpled as life leaves–there is so much spirit. So much fight. So much Gam.
She’s still making us laugh. Still being stubborn. Still doing her part to make this transition as comfortable for everyone watching as it is for her, on the way out. Which is really her way in.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get to Heaven?” I ask her.
It takes her so long to find the words, piece them together, remember how to make the sounds. But there’s light in her eyes that one can’t ignore. Words worth waiting for.
“I’m gonna see Jesus,” she whispers. “And I’m gonna hug Him. And tell Him that I love Him. And I’m going to worship Him for a bit.”
I smile. “Chess?”
Holding her hand and stroking her hair, I tell her that I love her. She tells me that she loves me too.
And then she kicks me out of her room, cause the girl needs her independence.
See? Still Gam.