7/1/12
Today (well, it’s after midnight, so
it was technically yesterday) I buried my Pawpaw. Meme and Pawpaw, I almost can’t say one name
without the other. 1 year and 2 weeks before Pawpaw died, Meme died. Most
children are lucky if they have one home where they can feel unconditional
love, if they can have one place to call home. I was lucky enough to have two.
Meme and Pawpaw’s house was always my second home, my escape. It was my safety
net. Not just the bricks and wood because that is not what makes a home. There
was always another place on the planet where I could go and still be loved,
where I could still be home. With Pawpaw’s passing, I feel like a tight rope
walker who has lost her safety net. It’s a scary feeling and it leaves me
feeling sad, empty and lost.
There has been a lot of loss in my
world in the last year and a half. The one thing that I have had a hard time
with is the fact that life goes on. Meme died a year ago. There was a time when
I could not imagine what life would be like without her, but here we are. It’s
a year later. My children have grown a year older. They have completed another
year of school, grown taller, learned new skills. They have each had another
birthday. We have all celebrated a birthday, Christmas, Easter, etc. The world
keeps moving forward. How is it possible, I often wonder, to live in a world
that will just keep moving forward after I am gone? Meme will not get to hear
how Reece learned to ride a bike without training wheels, how Bethanie said
something so funny today, How Savannah’s team won first place at summer camp,
how Olivia memorized “Are you my Mother?”. She’ll never know. How much more will happen in another year
that Pawpaw will never get to see? How can life go on when someone who is so
vital to that life is gone. How can we live and love in a world that will not
even pause for us when we leave? I don’t know the answer, and the not knowing…
I think that makes it harder. It raises the question “what’s the point?”. No matter how big of an impact a person has
on this world, it will keep right on moving after they leave. It’s a heartbreaking thing to consider and
the weight of it is almost unbearable.
Last night I had a dream. Some might
call it a vision. I don’t know. I would like to think that it was. 6 days ago,
I received the news that Pawpaw had passed away. Last night, I watched my grandfather die. I
saw it from his perspective. He was lying in bed in his room at Hospice. My
mother was sitting by his side. I could not quite make out what she was saying,
but her presence was enough. He wasn’t alone. As she spoke, I saw Pawpaw stand
up from his bed. He stepped out of his body and entered a full room. There were
at least 20-25 people filling that room. Meme was standing there. She was
beautiful! All dressed up in her pearls and high heels, wearing makeup… Her
face was glowing. She looked happy and healthy. It was wonderful to see her. I
never met Pawpaw’s mother, but I saw her. I could feel what he felt, and she
felt like “Momma”. I could feel the love
in the room. Pawpaw kissed Meme on the cheek and hugged her, and then did the
same with his mother. His brother was in the room and he shook his hand and
then hugged him. He went through the room receiving hugs and handshakes all
around. When he was done, he turned to where Mom was sitting beside his body
and he reached out and touched her head, running his hand down her hair. For a
moment, he looked sad. His mother took his hand and spoke. “She will be ok.
They will all be ok. They will hurt for a while, but they will be ok.” He
started toward her, then he looked back at Mom again. I could feel the
hesitation. His mother spoke again. “I promise you, she will be ok. They all
will. You don’t belong here anymore. You belong with us.” He nodded. He walked
toward his mother, Meme, his brother and all of his other family. They all
wrapped their arms around him and as a group, they walked toward the wall where
they all disappeared.
So what did I learn from my strong
feeling that this scene was more than just a dream? Several things, actually.
First of all, Pawpaw was not alone. Not on this side of death (which we knew
and were grateful for), but also not on the other side of death. He was not
alone. He is not alone. He is. That’s
another thing I learned. He did not simply evaporate. He is still alive and
loving somewhere. He is still giving and receiving love. He still exists.
Maybe this scene also helped me
answer my earlier question. How can we live and love in a world that will not
even pause for us once we are gone? The answer may be because we go on, too.
Somewhere Pawpaw is visiting with people he has not seen in a while. Maybe he
is telling Meme that Reece learned to ride a two wheeler, or that Bethanie had
him laughing so hard with this comment she made, or how Savannah is maturing into
such a precious young lady, and that Olivia is learning so much every day. He
can tell her how much we miss her and how much we can’t wait to tell her what
she’s missed. And then she can tell him what she has been doing and what he has
missed. And he can wait for the next person to move on to where he is. And when
they get there, they can fill him in on all of the things he missed. Maybe
that’s how it works. Maybe that’s what the meaning of life is. The world moves
on, but so do we. The end is not the end. Love is eternal. The people who we
love are not gone, they have just moved. One day, we will see them and we will
all have amazing stories to tell and to hear. The world will move on, but maybe
it won’t matter so much. Maybe the world is just the place where we met. It
matters and it makes a great story, but it’s not the whole story. Maybe it’s
not even the most important part. After all, it’s not where a relationship
starts that matters the most. It’s where it ends up.
