I woke up this morning with an update from my cousin about how my grandmother was doing. She's been sick for a very long time now. And the past few days have been really bad. Her organs have begun to shut down and the doctors say its a matter of time at this point.
What bothers me most is that I'm not there to help my family right now. We're a tight knit clan who have always been there for each other. We're southern and traditional. Family is our top priority and especially our elders. You respect your elders. They are the ones who deserve the respect in the family most.
Last time I saw my grandmother was a year ago. And, I'd like to think she knew who I was then. She did smile alot while I was there. At least that's the memory I'll keep with me forever. That she did know it was me and that I was once again that little girl that stayed with her when there was no school and she'd make dolls for us out of scrap material she kept in an old suitcase under the bed.
We say the hardest thing about being a military family is leaving people you love behind. Another aspect of that is not being there when you want to be or need to be.
I walked outside this morning to take the dog out. It's a cold dreary day with wintry cold winds. The air feels cold and crisp. I noticed on summer days I can hear the traffic across the way, but today it was so cold I couldn't even hear the cars when I could see them go by. It's as if the sound was frozen somewhere between there and here. It was completely silent, almost like a movie with the sound turned off, only hearing a random leaf blowing down the street. But, all the while, in my mind, I was thinking of the sounds that my family are hearing taking care of my grandmother. Being up all night with her and taking her to the hospital this morning. It's like being an outsider looking in and not really being part of the story. So many times, we go through our day and miss so much because we're listening to just what we want to hear or what we need to hear. I'd like to think that stopping and listening to the peaceful quiet of the morning, that I can hope my grandmother is hearing a peace through all her battles. I know God is watching over her and my family right now. And that gives me comfort. If anything, maybe the quiet is to help me since I'm not there. Even though if feels very alone.
But still, I miss the comfort of family. This is so hard.