Saying Goodbye, Without Really Saying Goodbye
Last Saturday the devastating news reached me that my grandmother, my Omi, is dying. And I couldn’t be there. I couldn’t jump in my car to drive to her. I couldn’t talk to her one last time, I couldn’t hold her hand, I couldn’t give her a hug. I couldn’t do any of those things. It really sucked. I felt helpless. I didn’t have the money to jump on a plane to fly to her. I felt trapped. I knew this could happen and up until last year I saved money for these occasions, that I could be there. But these savings vanished in the past year.
This morning Dutch time, for us it was late last night, my grandma passed on. She was ready to leave this life. She was ready to go home to her husband and her dad. To see her family that already passed on. My grandma turned 91 last year. Her body was done, she was done.
So yesterday before I went to bed, I again thought of my grandma like I had all week. Before I even heard the news I had already been thinking of her. I thought about all the times we shared. All the times I stayed with her. And I tried to reach her with my spirit, to connect with her. I have tried to do this since I’d heard the news. Unfortunately I hadn’t been able to reach her, but I thought that just maybe now I could. Maybe, I could reach her and tell her goodbye.
My Brother ♡
My brother picked up my mother yesterday, and he took her to see her. They were just in time. Like she had waited for them. I am so grateful that my brother did this. Thank you!
He saw her wall and thought it was so empty. So he went back to the car to get drawings from his kids, my niece and nephews, and he decorated her wall. He added all our names and wished her a good journey. Isn’t he the sweetest!
These moments are tough. Not being able to be there. There are a couple of moments per year when it is hard to not be together. For birthdays, Christmas, other big happenings and funerals. We do our best to make it work, but not being able to give each other a hug is hard.
We have it both ways around. In 2010, we were still living in the Netherlands and Dad’s grandfather fell ill. We were both working and we didn’t have funds to fly out to the USA at the time. Luckily we could attend the funeral because one of his cousins had set up a Skype connection. But still it was hard to not be able to be there in the flesh.
I will Miss You!
I will miss you Omi! I am sad that you weren’t able to meet little Microman. Although you will see him from where ever you are.
I am happy you don’t have to suffer any more. But I will miss you!
I will continue living life, celebrating life and making you proud!
You always said that you were rich because you had 5 children plus children in-law, 10 grandchildren plus bonus grandchildren (I don’t want to forget about you. We were all loved equally.) and 7 great-grandchildren. And you were absolutely right! You were rich and you lived a rich life.
Celebration of Life
The celebration of life,
shared in the beginning, and again, in the end.
Yet we forget to celebrate it, in every moment we live.
Time, days, years, go on, but are we alive?
Alive and do not know it, sleeping in the world
and dead to the life we are to live.
To celebrate all life,
the sparrow who sang in the morning,
and died in the night,
why do we not celebrate its life?
To know thyself is to know you are alive –
to give, to love, to seek truth, beauty, and suffer pain.
In life as it is meant to be, pain is forgotten, and
strength is all that’s left to be gained
in the moment by moment celebration of life.
By Deborah Peabody