Sometimes

Sometimes prayers are just needed in order to help you get through the day.

Today is one of those days.

Months after mom passed away, my grandmother told me that she had been diagnosed as having some form of lung cancer. (Needless to say, the past 2 years have been pretty fucking overwhelming) While I hated the thought of it all... her going through the treatments, and just being in pain, I was able to re-think the power of what was going on.

For many years, my grandmother helped my mother out. Many times  between she and I, we were all my mom really had. My grandmother had been a stay at home mother most of her life. She received her Masters degree in Early Childhood development, and that was her passion. She always wants details of how the children are developing and wanted to know what the Dr's would say so that she can analyze it all, and explain to me why they did/ do what they did/do. She never had much money, but after her husband passed away, he left her enough to live well off of. That made me so happy... she deserves more than anything to live the remainder of her life comfortably, and without any worries. But, she didn't. As I said, she helped take care of my mother... and she milked her for all she could. Wait.. I'm diverting, so I'll swing back.

It devastated her once my mom passed. As it did me. I really think that she and I feel it the worst. We were there through it all, and our "tough love" often times may have been too much. We both place alot of blame on ourselves for my mothers passing. Maybe we didn't do enough? Maybe we could've done just a tad bit more... That bond we shared, nobody else can say that they have. We laugh, we giggle, we crack jokes.... She told me when I was pregnant with my daughter... "That labor is going to hurt... it's going to hurt like hell... but when you push her out... it's going to feel better than any orgasm any man could give you!" And she was right. :-)

Again... I'm diverting...

My mom passed away when I was starting my forever with my husband and daughter, and soon to be baby boy. We were financially stable. And I truly believe that God wanted me to live my life with less worry. He wanted me to enjoy it without having to worry about my mother and all that came along with making sure she was ok. Its hurts like hell to feel that. To KNOW that her life was taken so that I can have peace of mind in mine. But in my heart... I know that's a huge part of it. The burden was much too heavy for me to bear... and He promised to never put more on me... so He didn't.

Well, my grandmother getting sick sparked another epiphany. It makes me wonder if she was supposed to be called home sooner. If it wasn't for my mother whom God knew needed her so much, then maybe she would've been resting already. As the days go by, and she gets sicker and sicker... I watch the pain that she's in. She wont ever admit it to me. She hates for me to worry. It hurts her to see me in stress as well, so that's always been something that I've kept from her as well as I could.

The whole realization that comes along with life is taking one hell of a toll on me lately. Life isn't about all of the petty shit that most people live for. It's about enjoying those that you're with. It's about fulfilling the purpose that He has for you. I haven't fully figured out my purpose, but I know that my mothers was to make my sisters and I stronger people, and to make lasting impressions on those that she had been in contact with. It took me to her memorial service to fully understand and see all those she touched, but it was truly amazing. Maybe my grandmothers was to be there for my mother? Maybe to make things easier on me? To make differences in the lives of small children? If so, then her purpose has been fulfilled. My grandmother has 5 children, 13 grandchildren (of which I am the eldest), and 3 great grandchildren (of which my daughter is the eldest).

So right now, I'm praying. For her pain to be gone. For her to smile and be happy. And for all of her dreams to come true.

As the year of 2010 comes to an end, I swear I've cried enough to fill 10 gallon buckets.