presence

Last weekend I flew into Dallas and drove with my mom to Brownwood, Texas.  Brownwood is where my late grandmother, Metta Burney, had lived for the last 30 years of her life.  In all my 28 years, I had never known any other "Granny" house other than her home in Brownwood.  The purpose of this trip was to help my mother clean out this house and drive back to Nebraska.  As you can guess, this was a hard weekend.

I handled myself pretty well at Granny's house because most of it was already cleaned out.  I had put myself in "work mode" which allowed me to focus on the tasks at hand and not get distracted by my sadness.  My mom did pretty well, too.  At this point, numbness has been a merciful friend to her.  However, despite both are coping strategies, I really think that we handled the situation so well because Granny was with us in that house.  I know ya'll think I'm weird or crazy... maybe I'm both, but I really felt her presence with me.  This was not the first time I have sensed her near me. 

The first time I felt her was the night before the funeral.  I was laying in bed awake and crying.  I was too upset to fall asleep.  Suddenly, the room began to spin or so I thought.  Initially, I thought I was having a panic attack.  As I began to breathe through the intense feelings of panic, I realized that the room wasn't spinning. It was rocking.... or more like I was being rocked like a baby.  Somebody or something was rocking me and once I got over the initial fear, the sensation was very calming.  In addition to this soothing motion, my grandmother's face appeared in my mind.  She was young and smiling and talking to me.  I don't quite know or remember what she said because I fell asleep shortly after.  The next morning I woke up with a sense of peace...

I felt that same peace while cleaning out Granny's house.  I was going through her bookcases and found an old Bible.  I gave the Bible to my mom and she began crying after opening it.  My mother found a poem that Granny had taped to the title page.  Here is a picture of the poem:

I really don't have to describe for you the feelings I felt after reading this because I think the picture gives you a pretty clear idea.  Death is something that I have always had a hard time understanding, but I am coming to learn that our passed love ones communicate with us.  We just have to be open to receiving their messages. 

Some of you may not believe me and that's okay.  We all grieve in different ways.  Whether my experiences are "real" or not doesn't matter.  What's important is that they are real to me and give me a feeling of serenity.  This serenity allows me to cope with each day without my grandmother.... until I can join her and others whom I love, wherever they are...  Thanks for letting me share.