Remember Me

"Remember me in quiet days,

while raindrops whisper on your pane,

but in your memories have no grief,

let the joy we know remain.

Remember me when evening stars

look down on you with steadfast eyes.

Remember me if once you wake,

to catch a glimpse of red sunrise.

And when your thoughts do turn to me,

know that I would not have you cry,

but live for me, and laugh for me,

when you are happy, so am I.

Remember an old joke we shared,

remember me when spring walks by,

think once of me when you are glad,

and while you live,

I shall not die"

~ Author Unknown

My grandmother loved this poem. It got her through the passing of my grandfather, her second husband, my mother, and countless other relatives and friends. She wanted it put on the little laminated cards at her memorial service with a picture of her on the back. The picture had to be one of her in her early years. Before the cancer took over her. She was such a gorgeous woman. And she loved my siblings and I. Alot. Often times she was the only one that loved us.

To imagine that we'll never speak again; have one of our fun conversations again; never gossip again... it kills me on the inside. Its sincerely tearing me apart. I saw her the day before she died. We talked about her eating more. I got her a sprite, and a cheeseburger. I brought her Dove bars... she loved them. I told her I'd be over tomorrow with the kids. My daughter wanted to buy her a Christmas gift, so we were headed to the mall bright and early. I sent her flowers to brighten up the apartment some. She yelled at my aunt when she didn't get them right away.

She loved me. She told me daily how proud she was of me. And she told me when I did things she didn't agree with. At the age of 26, I was afraid to tell her I was pregnant as she was so worried about me all the time not getting enough time for myself. My mental state was a concern of hers. She held on for a long time to make sure that I was ok. She told me "whenever you say you're ok, or you're tired, it usually means you're not ok... talk to me..." And I'd talk. I'd blurt out all of my frustrations to her. I'd usually end up in tears, but relieved that someone listened. When I was all done she'd say "I'm so so sorry this is all so hard on you... but you know that I love you right?" and for some reason, it worked. It really made things better. So, to no longer have that....

About 2 months ago my BFF told me she was pissed at God. Thought He wasn't doing enough for her and her family. That He was doing things on His time, and it was unfair. I tried to talk her out of that feeling, but she was stuck with it. Well a few days ago, I got it. COMPLETELY GOT IT. And I'm not afraid to say that I'm pissed at Him too. Everything is in His divine order, and all that other shit is not good enough for me right now. He punishes those who sin, but I want to know what sin I committed that was THAT bad that He had to make my life be as tumultuous as it is. I know I was unruly as a teenager, but as an 8,9,10 year old...what did I do? Life was terrible then. Why is it that almost 18 months to the day of losing my mother, I have to lose my grandmother? God has to do better. If He's got all the power to make it right, and He acknowledges those that do right by others, so WHY is it that I'm still in a position to suffer? I know that it's selfish of me to think that way. Especially seeing that it could be so much worse. But right now, I don't want to think of anyone else. I want to think of me. And how I feel. And yes, my grandmother lived 82 years. but I only got her for 28 of them. And I needed her still. He decided that I didn't. But I did. I do. So, yes, right now... I'm pissed at God. And the more I remember how great of a woman Mymomma was, the more upset I get. And I have every right to be.