Yesterday my best friend brought me a beautiful garden stone that she found on a trip home. On it is a beautiful quote, "Our family chain is broken, and nothing feels the same, but as God calls us one-by-one the chain will link again." She said it reminded her of something I've said to her a few times since you passed away. I've told her that although I'm not ready to die (I'm still hopeful God has more in store in this life for Daddy and I), I am no longer afraid to die. I think about the reunion we will have in heaven, and death no longer sounds as terrifying as it once did.
The quote on the stone reminded me of Aunt Becca and I singing "Amazing Grace (My Chains are Gone)" at your great grandma Shirley's funeral. I thought about Grandma a lot today. For several years before she died, Grandma and I spent Friday evenings having dinner together. There are so many things I miss about her. She really enjoyed eating, and she had a major sweet tooth for stuff like ice cream and candy. She played Bingo like it was a competitive sport. Grandma loved giving your daddy a hard time, probably because he'd give her a hard time right back. She nicknamed him "Trouble", and she'd give him grief every chance she got. One of the things I remember most fondly about her is how she used to make up these silly songs and rhymes, and how she'd make herself laugh singing them to me.
I found out I was pregnant about 7 months after Grandma passed away, and my heart ached at the fact that I wouldn't get to tell her about you. Grandma loved babies (she had 16 grandchildren and 19 great grandchildren!), and it hurt to think that she wouldn't get to meet or hold you.
A few months into my pregnancy, I had a dream. I don't know where I was in the dream, but as I was walking, I spotted a group of family members. I didn't recognize any of the people's faces, but somehow I just knew that they were family. I told them about my pregnancy, and we celebrated with a lot of laughing and hugging. Then I turned around, and I was face-to-face with Grandma. She was standing (something she hadn't been able to do for a while before her death), and she looked much younger than her 86 earthly years. Her hair was perfectly done, and she had the biggest and most beautiful smile on her face. She was absolutely glowing. We never said a word to each other, but I could tell from the look on her face and the tears in her eyes that she knew about you and that she loved you. She hugged me, and just like that, the dream was over. I couldn't stop crying after I woke up, and I never did get back to sleep that night.
That dream was and still is the most real, life-like dream that I've ever had. At the time, I thought the dream was a way of letting me know that Grandma knew about you, a way of making me feel better about the fact that I'd never get to tell her about you in person. Now, I look back on that dream, and I wonder if it meant something else entirely. I wonder if that dream was God's way of letting me know that while you wouldn't be with me, you wouldn't be alone either.
You are a link in our family's heavenly chain Morris, and that puts you in some pretty awesome company.
Love,
Mommy
Grandma Shirley with her beloved baby doll "Jordon". This photo was taken in December 2012, just a little less than a year before she passed away. Grandma had gotten dentures a week or so before this photo was taken, and she was proud to show off her new pearly whites.
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