Great Grandma

It's a road I've traveled before, but it doesn't seem to get any easier each time. 

They said it's time...to say goodbye, to let her go...and I know they are right, but it's still hard. 

I hate goodbyes. 

Tonight, I sat at her bedside, holding her hand, stroking her hair, and simply loving on a woman who's lived a long, beautiful life. 

She looked into my eyes, begging me to keep holding her hand, a twinkle in her eye as she recognized first me, then my husband, and finally our little ones.

She asked me when our littlest one is due and remembered the trauma of our first two birth experiences, wishing us well even in the midst of her own pain. 

She told me it was so good to see me and I knew, just looking deep into her eyes, how much she loves me and those who are blessed to know her well. 

The longer I sat, holding her hand, leaning in to hear her voice, the weaker she became.  Her shoulders slumped, her eyes heavy, her body weary of this life. 

I had been torn between rushing to her bedside less than an hour earlier, wanting to say goodbye one last time but wanting to remember her more full of life. 

But I just couldn't stay away.  I needed to be there, to love on her one last time. 

And now, I am tired, weary of the pain, the suffering, the trials, the struggles we must face in this world. 

I know God is near and I know the comfort of His words, but sometimes the only thing I can do is fall tear-stained at His feet. 

And that's exactly where He meets me, because He knows too that death was never meant to be.  It is an awful, horrible part of this sinful, fallen world and it simply hurts. 

For now, she is holding on, but the end is near.  And my heart is simply breaking.