An Open Letter to My Grandma

To my dearest Grandma in Heaven:

It has been three whole years.  Can you believe it?  Because I can’t.

I feel like it was just yesterday that you were still alive.  I feel like we were just in your car on the way to the park, making a pit stop to eat McDonald’s breakfast together.  The hotcakes were (and still are) my favorite.

I feel like it was just yesterday that we drove from Latrobe to Indiana to visit Kelly.  I feel like you just introduced me to my twin cousin Jessica.  Don’t worry, I do stay in touch with both of them.

I feel like it was just yesterday that we were sitting in the church pews together with you holding my hand.  You always had Winterfresh gum for me because I was always hungry before the church service was over.  I feel like it was just yesterday when I would fall asleep on your lap in the church pews.  And after church, we’d always go to Shop N’ Save to get foot-long hot dogs for lunch.

It feels like just yesterday that we were making homemade ham pot pie together in the kitchen.  You always let me help with the dough noodles.  That was (and still is) my favorite part.

I feel like I was just participating in the 4th of July Parade for the church with you and pappy watching proudly from the crowd.  Mom and dad have the picture you took with the polaroid hanging up on their fridge.

Weren’t we just on the way to Ohio to meet my cousin who I never knew I had?  Or wasn’t I just sitting in the backseat singing along to Christian songs with you on my way to Vacation Bible School?

Wasn’t it just yesterday when we watched game shows together in the living room, and always talked about how someday we’d go on The Price is Right or Wheel of Fortune as a duo?  The Price is Right toured near Harrisburg and Kyle and I were going to go, but it wasn’t going to be the same since you weren’t with me.

Wasn’t it just yesterday when you taught me how to play a form of Gin Rummy, and I was asking you to play anytime we weren’t doing anything?  And those time when you played with Uncle Bum and Aunt Carrie and never let me play with the grown-ups so I was forced to watch The Sandlot in the living room for the millionth time?  Trust me, I have no complaints because The Sandlot is still one of my all-time favorites.

Wasn’t it just yesterday that we went to Idlewild Park, where we took train rides through Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood?  Or when we rode the Tilt-A-Whirl together and I was mystified about how gravity forces you against the ride?

Wasn’t it just yesterday when you encouraged me to play basketball with your neighbor’s son or when you asked the neighbor if I could ride her horses?  I have a picture of those somewhere but they’re probably still in WV.

Wasn’t it just yesterday when we would play Bingo together, I won $500, and you would tease me about marrying the kid who brought me my french fries?

And yet, none of that happened yesterday.  I’m not a child anymore.  And you left this Earth to be with pappy, Uncle Rick and Angie three years ago today.

Just over three years ago was the last time that I talked to you, that I gave you a hug, that I held your hand, that I brought you flowers for your birthday.  I didn’t know at that time that that would be the last time I ever saw you.  

You were so concerned about me having to drive all the way back to Harrisburg by myself, when in reality there was nowhere else I would have rather been.  I knew you weren’t feeling one hundred percent, and I knew it had been quite some time since you felt that well.  I knew that the one place I had to be at that moment was by your side.

I didn’t know at that time about the dreams you were having, where you saw pappy and Uncle Rick again.  I didn’t know that only a few days later, you’d be lying in a hospital bed with tubes and machines surrounding you.  I didn’t know that I’d be driving out to Latrobe on Good Friday to say my goodbyes.  I didn’t know that I’d be the one to have to tell you that it was OK for you to go- that even though we needed you here on Earth, pappy, Uncle Rick, and Angie needed you more.  I had to tell you that even though we would be in pain because we missed you, that we would get through it together.

I went to the church after leaving the hospital to pray for you.  Pastor Ralph’s wife magically recognized me after not seeing me for at least 15 years.  I had been pacing around the church for at least ten minutes until they saw me.  The doors of the church were locked, but they let me in to pray for you.  Pastor Ralph stayed and prayed with me and held my hand at the same altar where I’d go up with pappy as a kid to pray.

Mom and I ate McDonald’s breakfast on the morning of your funeral at the top of the parking garage that I thought was so cool when I was younger- the same one you and pappy always drove me to after getting McDonald’s.  It was a cloudy morning and rain was in the forecast, but while we were at the top of the parking garage, the sun broke through.  Mom and I knew you were there.

I know you’ll never physically see this letter, but I hope and pray you somehow know it exists.  I need you to know how much I love and miss you.  I need you to know how sorry I am that I wasn’t around more often as I grew older.  I stopped coming up for the summers when I became a teenager, and even though I enjoyed those summers with my friends, I wish we could’ve spent more time together.

I long for one more card game, one more conversation, one more hug, one more laugh, one more adventure at Bingo, one more church service, one more smile.  However, I know these wishes aren’t feasible, at least not anytime in the near future.

So today I write to you in hopes that you’re proud of me.  In the years that you’ve been gone, I got engaged (to Kyle- I hope you remember him), we moved into two different apartments and just recently a house, Kyle and I got married, I started another new job, I received a few promotions/raises, we adopted a cute little pup named Oakley and I leased my first car.

Kyle is doing really well for himself, too.  He has a reliable car and a good job that he loves.  For only being 25, we’re both doing really well for ourselves.

Whenever I think of love, I think of you and pappy.  You were married for 60 years before pappy passed away.  I knew that whenever I said yes to Kyle’s proposal, we would have a love like yours and pappy’s.  I want you to know that I’m so truly happy, but I wish that you could have been at our wedding, to see our house, and to meet our puppy.

I’m sorry I don’t get to visit your last Earthly resting place as much as I’d like to.  But I did bury those bright blue flowers with you.  They survived through your funeral, which I never thought would happen in a million years.  They looked just as fresh as the day that I bought them for you.  I hope you liked them as much as I did.

And this is where I leave you.  It took me days to write this letter, years to even have the strength to write it to you.  So I’ll leave you with this- I love you so much, grandma.  I miss you dearly.  I hope I’ve made you proud.  Rest peacefully.

Love,

Emily

Writing Prompt Wednesday: Perspective at a Funeral

**Disclaimer: This is a writing prompt I found off of Pinterest.  This is all original work, so please do not alter or copy any of the details included.  Thanks!

I never thought I’d be dead at the age of 23.  I guess that’s what texting and driving gets you.  My guess is I look pretty bad considering I’m in a closed coffin.

I looked to my left at what my hand was touching.  Someone must have seen me at some point because my older sister’s college graduation photo is beside me.  And beautiful flowers are lying to my right.  Lilies.  White lilies, my absolute favorite.  I wonder who gave me these?  It’s nice of them to put me six feet under with my favorite flowers to keep me company.

Wait, what was I texting about anyway?  What was so important that I couldn’t wait?  What was so important that it landed me here, in my very own coffin?  My eyes diverted to the top of the coffin and I realized- James.  A picture of James was taped to the top of my coffin immediately in my eyesight.  I was texting James, letting him know I was five minutes from the flower shop and- oh no!!  I was only a few months away from getting married.  No, God no…poor James!  He must have waited for me for hours before realizing that I was never showing up- I can’t believe I did this to him.

I heard a sniffle immediately outside my coffin as a voice drenched in sadness whispered into the dark walnut, “I will always love you.”  It was James.

“I love you too, James, and I’m so sorry!  Please forgive me!”  No matter how much I yelled or screamed, he was never going to hear me.  I wanted nothing more than to hold him, but no matter how much I wanted that to be true, I was never going to be able to hold him again.

It was then that I looked down at my clothing and saw they (James, my parents, Hallie?) had buried me in my wedding dress…the one that I wasn’t supposed to wear for another two months.

“Casey,” a gentle voice outside my coffin said.  “Why did you have to do this?  James needed you, your father needed you, I needed you?  Why couldn’t you just wait five more minutes?”  My heart shattered- well, figuratively, because I’m not even sure I have a heart anymore, and if I do, it sure as hell isn’t working.

It was my mom’s voice I was hearing now.  Her small, disappointed and heartbroken speech was interrupted by hysterical crying.  It’s my assumption that my dad came and got her and took her to her seat.

My assumption was confirmed as only a few minutes (were they minutes? hours?) later, I heard a rough, deep voice talking to me.

“Casey, what were you thinking?  Why couldn’t you just wait?  Your mom- well she’s drinking again and your sister won’t even return our calls.  She’s too upset to even-.  You were only-well, James is a mess.  I’ve never seen him look more thin.  I don’t think he’ll ever love- well, I love you, Case…Heaven better be good to you.”

Heaven.  Wait.  Why wasn’t I in heaven?  Did I do something wrong?  Did I sin too often and not ask for forgiveness enough?  Why am I still here?

Minutes passed as I heard voices I could barely recognize, voices of my best friends, and those of people I had fallings out with, talking to me about how they’ll miss me, how I impacted their lives, how sorry they were that we had fallen apart.

Now the preacher was going on how it was my time, how God had a plan for me, and that no one should worry as I was in God’s kingdom now.  Little do they know that I’m here, trapped in this box, listening to every word they say.

After an hour (or was it minutes?) of the preacher talking, the crowd singing hymnals and speeches of those individuals closest to me (except James who I can only assume is so heartbroken he couldn’t bear to talk to me), I felt the coffin lift up.  I must be getting carried to the neighboring cemetery.  I guess it’s time for them to lower me into the ground.

James decided to speak at the cemetery.  He went on about how I was his better half and how I truly cared about the people in my life and how I always made him laugh and how I was his soulmate….and lastly, how broken-hearted he was because I will never share his last name.  A dream cut short by merely two months.

It was truly beautiful.  I wish I could cry.

I guess the speeches are over because an obnoxious hum filled my ears, one that could only be the machine that the church has to lower the deceased six feet under.

Suddenly, I heard a feint “Wait!  Wait!  Don’t lower her yet!” off in the distance, somehow over the loud machine that had begun lowering me into my final physical resting place.

The yells got louder and finally the machine turned off.  My sister’s voice was clear to me now.  Hallie- she came!  After everything- our constant bickering, her silent treatment of mom and dad, her never having the chance to stand next to me on my wedding day as my Maid of Honor.

And it was then that I realized I was waiting for closure from her- my best friend and oldest confidant, Hallie- before I could make way to Heaven.  She was the person who had been missing, since I heard from everyone else.

She said a few words on her journey to even get to the cemetery (losing her keys, missing the turn, traffic- ironically caused by a car accident)  but also how she couldn’t let me go before saying goodbye.

“Goodbye, Casey,” she said as I heard dirt fall onto my coffin.

“Goodbye, Hallie,” I wanted to whisper but nothing came out.  Instead, the coffin disappeared and everything went silent.  Finally, I saw a light in front of me with hundreds of individuals ushering me towards them.

I walked into the white light and was greeted and embraced by deceased grandparents and those family members I never had a chance to meet.

I was home.

Monday lit circle: Chapter One of A Land More Kind than Home

Note: This week’s post may contain spoilers.

Throughout my busy week, I managed to read the first chapter of A Land More Kind than Home and I already have to say I’m hooked!  I found myself wishing I brought it with me to work today so I could read during lunch.  It’s an interesting book and definitely different than the books I normally read but I’m already intrigued by the plot.

This first chapter was narrated by an older woman by the name of Adelaide Lyle, which I thought I’d find boring but was actually intrigued because she tells a story about her congregation and how it changed after the beloved pastor died from cancer.

It’s an interesting aspect to see Lyle’s point of view because of how much she is against the new pastor because of some of the things he’s done since he became the pastor of her church.  He made huge changes, a lot of which she doesn’t agree with, which led to a serious confrontation in front of a church that Lyle swore she’d never go back into.

Overall, great first chapter of a book.  I’ve read some books that take a while to get into, but this one I was hooked right away, which was really refreshing.  I honestly can’t wait to read the rest of it!