10/1

October first.

As I saw this day approaching on the calendar, I couldn't help but think of what this date means to me. Eleven years ago today, my grandma lost her battle with life.

She died.

It was a Friday, too, so the memories are more accurate. Jason had a football game. I missed it that night. My grandma was the first person I lost permanently on earth that I was close to.

I was hoping I could think on today and smile, thankful for the memories of her I haven't forgotten. She was the ultimate woman. She could do everything. Sew. Cook. Bake. (Yes, cooking and baking ARE different). Create. Garden. Can. And, best of all, make the most awesome pickles EVER! Oh, and I can't forget her spaghetti sauce. It was the best.

Today is a sad day for some of my friends, so it's hard to celebrate and move on when my thoughts are with them. One of my friends had to make a really difficult decision and is carrying it out today and another just lost her dad to cancer.

When I heard that hospice had been called in, a flood of memories of my own experience filled my mind. I remember traveling a similar road about 3 years ago. I'm not sure if she'll ever even read this, but there were some things I learned on that journey.

Probably the easiest time is the wake; you are surrounded by people that love you. They are gentle, caring, and understanding. They speak softly. They encourage.

One of the hardest? Taps at the graveside. Walking away is hard, too, because you know it's final. You will never see his body, or at least this body, again. You are forced to let go.

Then, you try to get back into life. Having someone die is like getting off the merry-go-round at the park. It keeps spinning just like life, but you are standing still. Then, when you try to hop back on, you can't. It's going faster than what you're ready to go. You may jump on, but then decide it's too much and you get back off.

. . .It's okay.

I remember not wanting to do much of anything after my dad died. Really. I just wanted to lay in bed. But, I had kids, so I would have to get them off to school. Then, I would come home and just lay in bed until it was time to get them. I had no drive. No motivation. The things I found so much enjoyment in (taking on decorating projects), I didn't want to do. And, actually, I feel like this past year was a year of awakening for me. I was in that funk for a while. And, that was a parent that I lost. I can't imagine how I would feel if it were my husband or my child. During that time, Barlow Girl's "Just Breathe" was my song. Nothing else mattered. My perspective was turned upside down. And, as silly as it may sound, I didn't expect anything else from myself than to just breathe.

So, Megan, hang in there. Just breathe.

Kelly, you too.