I didn't say goodbye

I can't seem to forgive myself for not saying goodbye.  She laid there so peaceful, so content. Sleeping. 

I can't forget the smell of vicks vapor rub when I hugged her.  Her cheeks sunkin in and her eyes displaying tiny blue hazy circles.  A white fleece blanket kept her warm.  I didn't recognize her.  I didn't want to recognize her.  Not like that.  I whispered that I loved her in her ear.  She smiled.  She couldn't tell me she loved me back.. that's not possible.

What's happening?.......

I escape to the bathroom where I fell to my knees, covered my face and flooded my hands with tears.  I'm not supposed to feel this way in her house.  A house that smelt like sweet cinnamon.  A house that wrapped your spirit in ribbons.  A house with brown sugar kisses and chortle.  A house with the sound of sweet tea being stirred and pool balls clinking around.  It was now a house of quiet sobs, tissues being pulled from boxes and worry.  My aunt found me and lifted me up off the floor.  She wrapped me in her arms.  She didn't say anything.  She didn't have to. 

I tried to occupy my time in her house with video games and television.  I didn't spend much time with her.  I thought if I didn't see her, fading from me, then it wasn't real.  I prayed and prayed to my almighty God to restore her health and give her back to me.  Me.  Give her back to me. Tears stained the sheets as I kneeled before the Lord, selfishly begging Him.  I told God everything I loved about her.  Everything I knew about her.  The moon replaced the sun..her sun.   The sun replaced the moon...her moon. 

I sat next to her one evening and watched as she breathed.  Her chest slowly rising and slowing falling.  Her eyes closed and her hands gently resting on her stomach.  Her feet were covered in fleece footies..her favorite.  Her skin burnished with lotion.  I just watched her.  I thought if I sat there long enough, looking at her, that maybe I can heal her.  Maybe all she needed was me.  Silly me for thinking such.  I don't have healing powers but, I thought to myself, how come the One who does have the power, isn't doing anything? Doesn't He see my family was in a season of sadness and mourning? DO SOMETHING. I yelled at God. I was mad at God.  I questioned..my God.

I took a deep breath and buried my face in my hands.  I sat indian style next to her.  I can hear the T.V in the living room and people shuffling around.  I smelt turkey in the oven.  I can hear my mom reading a recipe to my aunt as they took over the kitchen.  Her kitchen.  Where she would cook.  Where she would make beautiful tasty messes.  Where she would look at me from the stove and say "I love you sugar".  Her kitchen was the only place where I made the best rice crispy treats!!  Or maybe it was just her sweetness.  I lifted my head from my hands and rested them on hers.  She lifted on hand and laid it on top on mine.  She was awake all this time?  She saw me crying.  She heard my cries to God.  She felt my hands.  She knew.

That was the last time I went in that room.  Where someone beautiful laid quiet and content. Listening to the ones she loved miss her, cry for her, lingering around in hopes of a miracle.  I would pass by and peek in to get a glimps of her.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I was ready to go home.  The next morning I asked my mother if I could fly back to Texas.  I couln't be in this house anymore.  It wasn't the same without her walking around in her fancy shoes and painted toes.  Her spirit wasn't there anymore.  God was going to take her.... and we knew it.  We felt it.  We hated it. 

I flew home that next morning.  When I woke up I got dressed quickly and packed the last few of my things.  My dad helped my carry my suitcase to the car. I passed her room, dark and quiet.   I shut the door behind me.  I sat in the car looking at her house, her sweet house.  I pressed my hand against the window and swallowed my urge to cry.  Over the hill I went and I no longer could see her. Hear her.  Feel her. 

I.. her first granddaughter didn't say goodbye.

I looked up and saw the moon.  I saw stars still glistening.  I whispered to God " you can take her now". 

 I knew I was never going to see her again this life.  The plane ride back to Texas was long.  I flew high above the clouds.  I wanted to go higher, and higher into the heavens and wait for her.  I got home later that evening and sat on my couch.  A stillness came over me. I didn't know what to do from here.  I just left her.  In that dark room, where she will wake up not ever seeing my face again.  What was I thinking?

It was 3:20am when my phone rang.  I fumbled around for my phone in a daze.  My caller ID said "mom".  I knew.  She was gone.  Gone forever.  "He..he..hello?"...........  "mom?"......

I flew back to Alabama the next day.  Family I hadn't seen since I was 12 greeted me at the baggage claim.  I didn't want to see my mother.  I knew I would lose it.   I turned to hear my dads famous whistle which he would do to get my attention.  I turned to see him and my mother walking together.  My mom was pale.  I embraced her.  She cried on my shoulder.  I felt her body jolt from intense mourning. 

The funeral was the next day.  I had a lot of mental preparing to do.  The family gathered for dinner and we all hugged and talked about the good time we had with her.  We laughed and told stories of her.  We reminisced on the family vacations with her and how she taught me how to do a somersault in her pantyhose and long skirt. lol.  Goodness... she always made me smile.  She always brought laughter and love.  Her soul was on fire and she loved God. With all her heart.  Her heart.  Her... beautiful heart, which, no longer beat to the patterns of life.

We had a private funeral.  Just the family.  It rained a little.  The tears strolled down our sunglassed covered faces.  Our tissues were used and worn.  Our cheeks red from crying.  Our hair blown from the breeze that blew during her eulogy.  It was finished.  Her life was lived to the fullest.  Her love continues to spread like wildfire through memories.  Her heartbeat still plays over and over in my head.  I smell her sometimes.  In the winds that blow.  Except......... I never said goodbye.

Her name was Sandra Ann and she always had a drawer full of candy.  Whatever drawer she is reaching in now, must have something pretty sweet in it.

Grandma, send me a cupcake... from heaven :)