Dear Daughters,

This morning I finished the last page of my planner, my oh-so-valuable Things To Do notebook.  I typically use one each year, glance through it when it’s full, then throw it away.  You probably have something similar – the daily lists and reminders, temporary information that’s important for a time, and then it’s not.

As I was scanning through my notebook, I came upon the schedules for giving Lorazepam and Morphine to Grandpa, the timing for his breathing treatments, the list of Hospice workers, names of the amazing people who came in for the night shift and short statements about his general condition.  Suddenly my mind and emotions were swept back to those last few weeks of Grandpa’s life. 

It’s been almost a year since he passed and six months since we’ve moved back to Michigan, but immediately and unexpectedly today I relived all the grief and heartache of walking toward the horizon of the end of his life on this earth.  It was a sacred time a year ago, yet perplexing in how to give him comfort as well as those who gathered around to help.  I was reminded anew about how important it is for us to have a community of support, to give encouragement and do what we cannot do.  I’m reminded of the saying

It takes a village to raise a child,

but I think I can complement it by saying

It takes a village to escort a life to the end.

I know my statement doesn’t have quite the ring as the original, but it’s the best I can come up with – plus it’s true.

I used to feel young compared to Grandpa and Grandma (I looked quite spry in comparison) but now that I am around all of you, my daughters and your beautiful families, I don’t quite feel that way anymore and I continually marvel at all your energy and youth. But it’s ok, God has given each of us a time to begin life on this earth, a time to carry on and a time to leave.

I also came upon a beautiful song today, capturing all the emotions I was feeling.  So I listened and wept over all the memories – the hard, the beautitful, and a combination of all the others.  The chorus verbalized everything I was feeling:

It’s okay to cry
It’s okay to fall apart
You don’t have to try
To be strong when you are not
And it may take sometime to make sense of all your thoughts
But don’t ever fight your tears
‘Cause there is freedom in every drop
Sometimes the only way to heal a broken heart is when we fall apart  

It’s okay to cry, fall apart, and be weak.  In fact, maybe that’s how we can live life to the fullest.  Freedom comes in our honesty to admit we hurt, to admit we miss those who have gone, and admit we need help.  After all, it takes a village…

Love, Mom