Unfortunately, I do.
As I begin this post, I don't know where to start. This is something I never thought I'd write about. Something no one wants to write about.
I lost my Grandmother this week. The only one I had left. The only one I called "Grandma."
She was diagnosed with a very common kind of brain cancer, but in an extremely rare form...if that makes any sense. She stayed so strong, though she suffered much.
I watched my mother grieve.
I watched my father stand beside her as her very practical stronghold. Her emotional escape.
I watched my little sister take care of our family.
I watched. I felt anxious. I wished to help more. I prayed.
Grandma planned out her funeral. So selflessly. Not because she really cared about what happened there, but because she didn't want to burden anyone after she was gone.
She had everything in line.
And 6 weeks later, she was gone.
That's all we had. Even though they told us 9-12 months.
Selfishly, we want more time.
Selfishly, we need more time.
But praise God for bringing her home to His healing arms.
I sang this song at her funeral.
She will forever be loved and remembered.