Interlude of Gloom

Every year, around this same time, I am subdued with sadness. I try to forget it; I even try to repress it, but the same feelings of emptiness, loss, and extreme sadness still besiege my mind. The backdrop of that painful season looms over the walls of my conscience. It was this time, almost 14 years ago, when my beloved grandmother was quickly and tragically stricken with and succumbed to terminal cancer. I always ask myself, what I could have done differently. Why didn't I notice a sign? Why didn't I take a more radical approach in treatment options, etc. Did I pray/fast hard enough, etc ... Then, there's the night that you practically begged me to stay overnight at the hospital with you. Probably the last request you would ask me, and I couldn't even meet that; I probably will never forgive myself for that. I tell myself each year, it will get easier, and it never does. I vow to do things to cheer me up, but they never work. I laugh and crack jokes to diffuse my agony, but even that tactic is short-lived. I think the biggest shock of it all is that, in my eyes, she was 100% invincible. And to watch a pillar in your life literally be brought down to the ground does damage to you on many levels. I can't even express how much this tragedy has affected me. Honestly, I should have sought grief counseling because it lead me to be functionally depressed for many years. And though I think I cope better now, there are still parts of this tragedy in which I have yet to receive closure. I guess this will just be one of those things that I continuously wrestle with for the rest of my life. I look back at my successes, and they become bittersweet because you were not there flashing that million-dollar grin and rooting like absolutely nobody else could. I pray so desperately that you could just come back and give me the advice and spiritual counsel to maneuver me in the right direction, but I guess God has the master plan. So I'll just keep on trusting Him and trucking along. I know sadness is not what you would have wanted or me, so let me pick myself up and conclude this interlude of gloom. I declare that this must be one of the 'by and bys' that the hymn of old declares will be revealed down the line. Missin’ you much, Gram. Sure could go for my hug and kiss about now.

Remembering Neannette

The excitement of going out of town was only heightened by the fact that my new, 1-month-old nephew was accompanying us on his first family trip to Indianapolis. This was no ordinary occasion. Our beloved Neannette was turning 70 and had no clue that the entire family was coming to surprise her for her birthday. I could hardly stifle my excitement as we inched our way to her door. A muffled scream is all we heard, and then laughter...and then there were tears. Tears which symbolized the deep love which fills a room with audible affection when no ones even speaking. Then, there was laughter, loving-insults, and a room full of more love than which ought to be legal. Mom and Grandma scolded Neannette for the way she looked and the way her house looked. "Mother, you should be ashamed," I can almost audibly hear my grandmother say. This celebration overflowed to a local Ryan's, which also included our then matriarch, Aunt Marguerite, who too, was meeting baby Joshua, the newest addition to our family. We all looked on lovingly as she broke him in with the family ritual of spoon-feeding him coffee. Josh is now 23, I'm 32, and our beloved Neanette is no longer with us. But even as I type this, the love, the pride, and the bond that has sealed the foundation of my life all ascends to the surface. And I realize...that even though she's no more, she's manifested herself in my family's lives in so many facets. Losing a loved one leaves a deep void and it often causes me to ponder, who will ever love me like she did? And even though I've yet to answer the previous question, I can forever dwell and reminisce on precious memories such as these. Still remembering you, Neanette! With love, Jason