It’s been a little over 15-months since my beloved was called HOME. In that time, so much has happened. There have been additional losses, marriages, and now, I’m welcoming grandchildren.
On the 2nd of November, I was at the hospital when his namesake was born, our first grandchild. The flood of emotions was overwhelming. It was like the emotions I felt at the big kid’s weddings, but on steroids. It was an ushering-in of a new season of life, without my partner.
I remember, for a brief moment, while I was waiting for my daughter-in-law to be prepped, that the child-in-me roared visciously. You know, the petulant, spoiled child that lives inside all of us. It was as if she was just told that she couldn’t have ice cream before dinner. It was enough to merit a tantrum attack of epic proportions. There I was, knowing my daughter-in-law was being prepped, and I was about to meet Chris’s grandson without him, and the spoiled little child-in-me wanted to rage, and kick, and scream, “IT'S NOT FAIR! HE SHOULD BE HERE! IT’S NOT FAIR!” The thought was fleeting, thankfully, because what came to mind next, was what I’ve told all of my children at different points in their lives, “Thank God, life is not fair, because if it was, then I deserve the pain and shame of the cross.”
I left the hospital and drove home that night in silence. Just processing the events of the evening. The deluge of love, and joy, that I felt when I saw our son, holding his son. The inundation of loneliness because I, again, only want to hug one person, and he’s not here. Usually, I hate driving, but on that particular night, I needed the silence and solitude of a long drive. My husband was in Heaven, and I just wanted him with me. I wanted to celebrate with him. It all felt like too much. Too much joy, too much excitement, too many blessings… all of it, too much to enjoy alone. Our grandchild was healthy, his mom was healthy, and every prayer was answered. It was an “AMEN” moment. But, the one person I wanted to rejoice with, wasn’t there. The sadness was suffocating. If I’m honest, at those most dichotomous moments, I wrestle with my faith. I wrestle with understanding, and accepting that this, is the hand I’ve been dealt.
But God. In the silence, HE reveals the beautiful truth that has been sown into my heart. The truth that HE is on HIS throne. That HE is good. AND… who the heck am I to understand the mind of God? My job, is to rest in knowing who HE is, and trusting HIM.
It took me a while to understand that I have a choice in all of this. This grief thing isn’t cut and dry. There’s a definite beginning, but it doesn’t end, it evolves. My choice is to either allow the truth of God to trump everything, or to allow everything to trump me.
I held our precious grandson again this past weekend, and this time all I thought of was, “God is good.” This beautiful little man is what my husband and I daydreamed about. We talked about becoming grandparents so much. We planned a big chunk of our retirement around “visiting the kids.” What a gift that our first, holds a part of my husband.
I’m a freaking abuela! All the love, excitement, and joy that one feels with a new baby… with NONE of the responsibility. As a grandma, I don’t raise, I spoil… that’s pretty great.
God gives, and HE takes away, and we are left with a choice. Do we choose to believe HE is, who scripture says HE is, and wholeheartedly say, “blessed is the LORD above all things,” or… not.