Tuesday, June 11, 2013
As I stare out the window of our car, sadness rolls over me and a slight dread piles over my head. Soon the South Carolina trees will change to the trees of Georgia. The enormous oak trees with mysterious yet beautiful moss hanging from each branch will no longer be out my window. Until next time they will only be a memory or a subject of a small photograph on my iPhone screen. The marsh only 2 miles away will soon be 320 miles away. As far as I know they might as well be 3000. My family, all the cousins, aunts, uncles, sisters, and in-laws, will no longer be in the same house as me when I wake. Stories of my families past will no longer be a conversation away and games of jokes and rivalry will now have fewer people playing. But the saddest of all, the thing that many people will go through their day not noticing, the air that I breath will no longer have salt in it. That ocean of mine will not be just across the street, only 25 steps away. Now, I will not miss the ocean because of the beach it is on that happens to be an impeccable spot for tanning by most girls standards. I will miss the sight of dolphins in their habitat, the strong, but still soft waves crashing into my face, the laughs that are had when a family plays together as they ride the waves back to shore. I will miss the shells that hurt my feet. I will miss the smell of the sea that seems to always sooth me. I will miss the lullaby of the waves that are enough beauty, no music is needed. I will miss everything about South Carolina.
As we spread my grandparents’ ashes off of the U.S.S. Yorktown (my grandfather was in the navy) yesterday, I realized how much I miss them. I would never wish them back, because I know they are the happiest a person could ever be but I still miss them. My relationship with all my grandparents is different than many of my friends’ relationships to theirs because mine, I believe, was cut short. Three of my grandparents died by my age of 10. (My grandmother, Manda, is happily living in Athens only an hour away and I am so grateful for her part in my life.) I still remember all of them though, whether the memories may be few and far between they are still there. I miss their smile and their laughter, but I just miss them. However, because of having many deaths in a short period of time in my childhood, I have learned not to resent death. I have become unafraid of my death, whenever God makes it time. Now, don’t get me wrong I am definitely not saying I am ready for my time to come or anything of the sort. I have just found the peace in God’s timing. I have learned to trust His plan for me and everyone around me. I have learned death is not to be something scary, for when God says, “Come home.” I will not fear to be in paradise. I owe that lesson and strength in God to my three wonderful grandparents I guess you could say. Even when they are gone, they are still here teaching me new things.
So, even though I will miss many things of the adventurous life I long for, I know that like my grandparents it will never really be gone. Honestly, many of the sad things I am leaving behind for the time being are only five hours away, some even one. So although sadness takes its place in my heart, something great overcomes it. Something that will make me happy to wait until next time.
This is my dad's twin's grave stone, that my family was able to visit and pray by. I never got to meet Michael, but if he was half the man my dad was I know he is fantastic. Can't wait to meet and celebrate with him in Heaven.