Saturday, April 27, 2013

Final Words?

I've had a lot of time lately to think about last words. 
What were the last words you spoke to someone? 
Were they in anger, or in love?
Were they something that you can look back on without regret?
And what were the last words you heard from someone?
What do those words say about you and your relationship with that person?
What do those words say about your character?
If they were written down, recorded, somewhere, would they be something that you could be proud of?
Heavy thoughts for a Saturday, I suppose, but you never know when those last words will come.
Perhaps we should all be just a little more mindful of what we say before we say it.
Some words can never be taken back, and some words will never be forgotten.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

No good-byes

The day of my first wedding anniversary came and went, thankfully, without incident. It was a little rough at a few moments throughout the day, but overall, it really wasn't as bad as a I was expecting. Maybe it was because I kept myself busy. Maybe it as because everyone else was a little too distracted to even remember what day it was. 
Whatever the reason, I made it through the day without shedding buckets of tears of railing at the walls of my apartment. I lived a normal day, did normal things, thought normal thoughts. They were just the thoughts of someone who was living another life than she had vowed to be living the year before on that very day.
It's amazing, isn't it, how much life can change in the blink of an eye? 
It's almost incomprehensible.
Sometimes that's a good thing, sometimes it's a bad thing. And sometimes, we don't know the difference until years later when we can look back and realize just how many other parts of our lived were effected by that blink-of-an-eye change.
So now, it's three days later, and life has again taken another turn. 
I still haven't even begun to write that obituary for my grandmother. Not that I didn't fully intend to fulfill that request when the time came. 
But things are looking much better, and the grandmother I am so unprepared to see leave this world is slowly improving, and we're all praying that she holds on awhile longer.
And not just holds on, but recovers. She might not ever be the Grammie I grew up with, but if she gets some of that life back, some of that...wonderful spirit that makes her Ricki, then I'll be happy. 
There are still things I need to learn from her––silly little songs whose tunes and lyrics I only partially know. Strange little stories that she hasn't passed along yet. Recipes she hasn't scribbled down.
Memoreis she hasn't made yet.
I'm grateful she's coming coming back. The world isn't ready to say good-bye, and neither am I.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Stronger


It’s April 18.
What should have been my first wedding anniversary is in three days.
At this time last year, I never imagined I’d be a widow. I never imagined that I’d be having to figure out how to write an obituary for my grandmother. I never imagined a lot of things, I guess. 
Not all of it has been bad, though.
My faith has grown a lot in the last year. My relationship with my family has strengthened. I think God has shown me a lot of things and taught me a lot of things. There’s mercy and healing, even when there’s pain.
As I wait for the next few days to pass, I can only hope that this will be a new year of hope and peace. That things will change for the better and that new life will be gained. I’m turning 30 this year, and I want it to be a time of celebration. I want this to be a year I can look back on proudly and think, “Things haven’t been easy, but God kept me strong.”

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Pictures of You

I've been thinking a lot lately about how much memories impact your life, your identity...even your sense of worth. When you share memories with people, you have a feeling of connectedness. You have have a sense of not being alone. But what happens when the people who share your memories and your history start to disappear, when your circle dwindles and you're left with only your own memories and stacks of photographs and mementos to prove that your history was, in fact, more than simply a conjured dream? 
Family holds such a rich history, a complicated tapestry of stories and memories and dreams. And with each day that passes, we lose more and more of those moments. Memories fade, people grow old and die. And we look back on our time together and wish we'd had more, that we'd realized how much the loss would hurt, how up-ending it would be to our own identities to suddenly know that we are now the sole possessor of a memory, a sequence of events, a shared history. We are now the only holder of that moment, of that snapshot, that feeling. 
The realization makes me want to capture my family forever in a bottle, to preserve their voices and faces and stories. There are so many things that, while I know these people, I don't know everything. and some things I will never know. So many stories that I haven't heard from my grandparents and my parents. So many questions I want to ask, so many questions I haven't thought to ask. I want to know everything. I want to hold it in my hands and look at it and turn it over and over in my fingers and know what makes them the people that they are. I want to know so that I will know more of what makes me who I am, to know where I come from. I want to hear the stories and understand their hurts and joys, their dreams and their sorrows. I want to see time through their eyes and pass it on so that our family is not lost, so that their eventual passing will not mean the disappearance of the memory. 
Take the chance. Ask the question. Sit down and learn who they are, and then maybe you'll know a little more about who you are.