Life Happens...

...And so does death.

As I prepare for the death of Gram, I have been looking for answers and explanations. Not so much the why's. We all know Gram is 89 years old. Her body appears old and fragile. For many months now she has fought the good fight. She has lived a very happy and fullfilling life. That's not to say she didn't go through any hard times. She just was always able to look beyond her troubles, knowing that God has a greater purpose for her and all of us. I think it is HER great faith that has brought me to where I am today. I am not afraid to let her go. I cry tears of sadness because I will miss her terribly. I cry tears of joy because I know she will finally be reunited with God, Aunt Dorothy, Brittney and all of those who went before her.

The answers I am looking for I have not yet found. What is keeping her here? She has said many times she is not afraid to die. Many of us have felt at one point or another over the past few days that Gram was trying to tell us she is leaving and that she is OK with that. Don't get me wrong, I am not anxious to get rid of her. I cherish every moment I have left with her. But I am anxious about not knowing when she will go. It is this anxiety that got me searching the internet for answers. I Googled "Death and Dying". Then I Googled "The Dying Process". I read a lot of interesting things, but I did not find the answers I was looking for.

I suppose there are no answers, and the best we can do is continue to be here for Gram and each other as long as she needs us to be. I find strength in Grams faith and knowing that one day I will see her again. And I suppose that is what draws me to the following story I found while surfing the internet last night. I would like to share it with you.

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!”

”Gone where?”

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: ‘Here she comes!”

And that is dying.

Henry Van Dyke