Beverly & Me

I was singing quietly. It was her time, I knew it, but I couldn't help but want to retrieve every note that left my lips as my stance against death. But I kept singing her hymns and within moments she relaxed and said goodbye to this broken world with her final breath.

I sat at my piano with my 8 month old daughter and cried. I wanted so bad for her to meet her great great grandmother. What a joy it would have been. I was planning to fly out in the middle of this month but her body gave out sooner than expected.

I went to bed early that night and found myself thrown into a mind full of memories and reenactments of the stories she would tell. I saw her standing poised with a smile of ambition as the camera captured her mischievous stare. I saw her passing my great grandfather and looking back to see the young man he was, dressed in uniform on his way to see her at the roof of the hotel. I saw her fighting as a wife and mother to be all that she could be. Her grace never leaving her side and her passion fueling her every move.

As my mind kept flowing with memories, I laid next to my sleeping husband and pictured growing old with him. That's what you do when elderly people pass in your life. You're forced to realize that one day, you will be in that place. His body was like a furnace and so I snuck my frozen feet over to him and placed my hand within his and fell asleep.

And for a moment I wondered if it was all worth it.

The next morning I woke up to a day that needed to be lived, a house that needed to be cleaned, work that needed to be done, and a baby girl that needed to be loved. I was quickly overwhelmed as I woke up to Cora's stirring in her crib.

I sat her down and she watched an episode of Maurice Sendak's "Little Bear" as I scurried over to the coffee corner and made myself a cup.

Suddenly I heard her giggling and turned around to see her up on all fours crawling away, trying to grab a hold of our Siberian Husky, Misha. I ran over to applaud and encourage her to keep moving. She had shown signs here and there but today she just decided she had it within her to get up and go.

It's funny how that happens to us, sometimes unwillingly. When we're set in our ways, or feel like we're unable to progress or move on any further, somehow we find the strength within ourselves to keep pushing forward, to move on to better things.

My beautiful and healthy eight month old reminded me of something incredibly important; God makes all things new. Although simple, she began a new chapter in her life and welcomed it with open arms. In similar ways and as difficult as it can be, the passing that occurs with our loved ones or even just a season we've been living for a long time, give us an opportunity to make unique turning points in our lives; to depend solely on God and trust somewhere inside us there is an instinctive sense of strength through the simple joy of being a creation of God and to know every piece of us, even the broken ones are filled with purpose.

You lived your purpose and you lived it well Grandma. I love you Beverly Lou Wood Blair.