Driving to the house that love built, now home to my parents and filled with new memories of a growing family, I focus on the road ahead and look forward to a day spent with my mom.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of red. Turning, I see an elderly lady wearing a bright red winter coat taking a cute little beagle for a late autumn stroll. My breath catches in my throat and I remember...
***
...a woman who loved the outdoors, especially this time of year. Growing up in the great upper peninsula of Michigan, she skied, skated, and snow-shoed her way through the winter season. She marveled at the fall colors every year and the hope of Christmas that seemed to whisper through the gentle breeze as the trees shed their leaves.
Family was her most precious treasure and she cherished every moment with those blessed to call her mother, grandma, aunt, and sister. Her smile and her eyes came alive the moment the walls of her home were filled with family gathering round the table for a thanksgiving meal or singing carols amid the tinsel and the ivy.
She was a master story teller, weaving stories of the past into the present. Every birthday card was filled with words she hand wrote that grandpa typed on the computer in a card with carefully chosen graphics. She filled journals with her memories and letters to the man she loved for over sixty years.
***
Turkey roasting in the oven and the smell of another thanksgiving meal fill my parents' home. Glancing at the clock, my mom begins to worry. Picking up the phone, she calls her mom to find out when she will arrive to join us.
Confused and disoriented, my sweet grandma forgets what day it is and my mom begins to weep. It's the first time I realize her forgetfulness is more than just age and stress. I whisper to my husband, who quickly grabs his keys and leads me to our car.
Driving to her home, there is an awkward silence as I fight back tears of my own. Arriving at her home, my husband takes her arm and leads her to our car. She is frustrated with her memory, but smiles as we tell her about the delicious meal awaiting us.
***
Less than a month later, we said goodbye to this woman who lived and loved life well, just days before Christmas. This year, as we prepare for another thanksgiving meal and await the hope of another Christmas, the memories are flooding my mind. There are now three empty pieces of my heart, broken places that are still healing. It's bittersweet, this remembering, but I know that I am blessed, to have loved and been loved and for that I will always be grateful.
Linking up with Bigger Picture Blogs for a month of thankfulness and this week's Bigger Picture Moments.
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