It's been almost 17 years since my grandmother passed away. It took many years to grieve that loss, but even now I still find times when I am desperate to talk with her. This is how it would've gone today:
Me: "Hi, Grandma."
Grandma: "Hi, baby, how are you?"
Me: "I miss you."
Grandma: "I miss you too."
Me: "Some amazing stuff is happening, and I want to tell you all about it."
Grandma: "Okay, shoot!"
Me: "Well, to start, last night I had a horrible dream that momma died in a car wreck. Daddy was a mess, and it was just awful."
Grandma: "Well, you know she's okay, right?"
Me: "Yeah, but I had to text her first thing this morning, because it was just so real!"
Grandma: "You always have crazy dreams. Do you remember those dreams when you were little?"
Me: "Yep. I love that you remember everything I tell you."
Grandma: "Well, not everything, but I try to listen."
Me: "I love you, Grandma."
Grandma: "I love you too, baby. Tell me about the rest of your day."
Then I'd go on to tell her about the article I read on facebook about blessings, and she'd give me her best advice on that, but mostly let me process it aloud with her as I always need to. I'd tell her how God has been moving in me and coming out my mouth, and surprising me with things to say and speak over others. She'd affirm my love for Jesus, remind me to pray, and read my Bible. She'd share a story from her wealth of life experiences.
I'd tell her about my amazing friendship with someone that I've spent so little time with, but feel a kindred soul with. I'd tell her about the lunch with this friend today, what I ate, what she ate, what we said, and so on. If somehow I left a detail out--she'd notice and ask.
I'd tell her about the massage I had today--a mayan abdominal massage. A new experience that left me feeling great, and that I'd done it sooner. She'd have me slow down, spell that, and ask where she could get one. She'd tell me she's glad I'm taking care of myself, and I should do it more often.
I'd tell her about my awesome kids. I'd hear the ache in her voice to want to be here with them, holding them, kissing them, laughing her big laugh that made her whole body shake. I'd think how I hope to be even just a fraction of the grandma she is to me when I become a grandmother.
She wouldn't want to hang up, but I'd know it was time to let her rest. I can talk and talk, and she'll listen and listen no matter how tired she becomes.
Me: "Grandma, I love you. I can't wait to see you again. I can't wait for your big hugs."
Grandma: "Me too, kiddo. I love you. Be good."
I know that day is coming. I sometimes long for them more than food and water. It makes me think though, do I long for the Father like this? Do I long to tell him about my day? Do I ache to feel his embrace? Can I hear his voice so clearly in my mind, as I can hear my grandma? I know the day is also coming soon when I will be in His presence. Will I have a good story of my life to share? Will I be overwhelmed with joy? I am so glad though that Grandma will be there with me. I am assured of that.
