Why I'm here....

Since I've always been quick with an opinion an old friend once lost and again found suggested that perhaps I should share with more people my commentary. Never being one to pass on a challenge I thought I'd give it a whirl.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

What I Choose to Believe


Looking back there are so many things I could choose to talk about. Yesterday I posted about my grandmother on my dad's side. Tonight I choose to talk about my grandmother Jezzie. There is no denying that I was closer to my dad's mom. I believe this was just the circumstance of my grandmothers lives though that made this be. My grandmother Jezzie had chosen to marry a man sixteen years older than her with seven children of his own at a very young age. Of course I feel this must mean she loved him a great deal, because what woman would marry into a ready made family of seven living children and go on to have eight children of her own with him? Having so many children though didn't stop the family from growing healthy with much love. My mom speaks often of hard times, but times filled with love. A shinning example that even if money is tight, it doesn't mean life shouldn't be good. My mother is the oldest of my grandmothers eight kids and her youngest brother is a year and one month older than me. That was strange thinking someone so young was my uncle growing up. Didn't seem like an uncle. The woman behind all this seemed very strong and lost her husband to cancer when I was only sixteen months old. She never remarried or even considered the thought and although I know she loved me and I cherish the little purse (surprise, me liking a purse) she gave me when I was around three years old to this day. It hangs on a nail on my screened porch. My grandmothers home was always filled with children. Tons of them. Always grand kids and great grand kids around. So many so that I know she was spread thin. The sad thing is unlike my dad's mom, other than in a "visitation" in my dreams to tell me all would be fine when I had a rough patch with my brother, I can't recall ever just sitting and talking to her. I can't remember one time when it was just her and I talking. I have spoken with her in my dreams though. I suppose my way of working through my life's desire to turn back time and not be that naive child that didn't know that time was precious. That child that didn't know that you may have rough times and hard times but each moment we spend with someone we love should be cherished. My grandmother Lula died in November of eighty-three and we had not even had time to process that when in January of eighty-four we found out my grandmother Jezzie had cancer. Cancer is such a scary word. It's almost like you are telling someone they have a death sentence. We all know it can be beat, but rarely is it seems. Sadly the cancer isn't what killed her in the end though. I know what an odd thing to say. Let me explain. My grandmother beat the odds. She beat her cancer. Yet she was very weak from having had all the treatments. That is one of the bad things about the Kemo, it takes your immune system and your strength and it takes a while for it to come back to you. In November of eighty-four I had what I call my "Prophetic" dreams, which warned me of her pending demise around my birthday that next year. My birthday is June 27Th and in 1985 I would be turning 18. I told my dad about my dreams. I told him I thought my grandmother would die on my birthday. Now remember at this time she's testing clean and just needs to rebuild her strength. My dad has never really acknowledged my dreams that I have. My family is very religious and I don't know if they believe in my dreams or not. I do. I believe he did even though he didn't want to. I took the call the morning of June 26Th letting us know my grandmother had passed away. She had been in the hospital for having fallen and broken her hip. An orderly thought because she was tiny that he could lift her with no help (which they are not suppose to do) and he dropped her. The bruising from that caused a blood clot that went to her lungs and killed her. Before she died she asked that the orderly not be blamed. My youngest uncle went from being a 19 year old living with his mother that day to wondering what he was going to do and how he would live. His brothers so wrongly went through the stuff in the house he lived in with her and divided out the stuff. That is just wrong on so many levels. I can't even begin to imagine what demons he's had to try to work through over the years. I live with the regret that I didn't have that one on one conversation with my grandmother to this day. Yet, we can't turn back time and I choose to believe that she understood I was a young naive girl who loved her dearly. What I choose to believe is that I have seen her since her death in my dreams and that I have fulfilled that one on one time there. Sometimes it's all about what we choose to believe. Either way live life to the fullest no matter what. Enjoy it. Cherish it. Be happy with it no matter what it has chosen to deal you. It's all in how you deal. I know somethings suck, but you never walk alone and there is never a day where there is not something in your life that you shouldn't be grateful for and feel blessed for. Again.. Happy Holidays!

1 comment:

ida said...

i had no idea you were going threw all this back in high school. i am so sorry. wow.
i still talk to my mom. and she and i have very good talks. i do beleive your dream. i have had a few dreams that have ment something too.
keep talking to your gandma, and i'm going to keep talking to my mom. :)
love ida