Inside, I feel sad.
Inside, I grieve deeply. Everyday.
Inside, I can't believe they are all dead.
How did I get here? I am only 31. I haven't gotten married or had kids. And now, now I have...
No Mama.
No Daddy.
No Aama.
No Russell & Louise.
I miss my mama. My warrior. The one who loved me when I lied to her face (it was only a white lie, but that seemed to matter little.) The one who came to my kickball games dressed in our team's colors and yelled louder than any other parent. The one who supported me by herself (and some child support) through five years of divorce. The one who called me Peaches & Pumpkin Cream Pie (don't ask, I have no idea to this day).
I miss my daddy. The one who took off work and got on an airplane, two things he hadn't done in 20 years, to see me graduate with a master's degree. The one who could never say or do anything unkind to anyone. The one who loved to joke and tease and always have fun. The one who snored louder and tooted stinkier than anyone I've ever known.
I miss my beloved grandmother who was my best friend. For those of you who may not know, she is the one in the picture with me at the top of this blog. The one I called Aama, which means "Mama" in Nepalese, though I had no idea when I began calling her that. The one I talked to everyday. The one who always picked up the phone, no matter what time it was. The one who never, ever got tired of listening to my stories. The one who stood at her driveway and waved until my car was out of sight. The one who was my rock, my pillar. The one for whom there are no words to describe all of the ways she was "the one who."
I miss my grandfather who I was terrified of for a good part of my life, but I later understood loved me so much. The one who helped pay for my college to make sure I had a good education. The one who laughed when the juice from my corn on the cob splattered on his right spectacle despite the utter impropriety of it.
I miss my other grandmother who helped to raise me during the years of divorce. The one who took it upon herself to teach me what it means to have self-respect and dignity. The one who painstakingly tried to teach a pre-teen good manners and how to be a proper lady. The one who is responsible for the best breakfast meal ever, Golden Rod Eggs.
Within the past 10 months, 3 of them died. I was at the bedside of one, my father, as he took his last breath and left this world. Within the past 2.5 years, 4 of them died. At the age of 19, this daughter lost her mother. I often wonder, what will become of me? My heritage is all gone. I don't even have a brother or sister to share this load of grief with. How will I get married and have kids without them? Worse, what if I don't get married and have kids, and this was the last of the family I will have?
Everyday, I miss these five pillars. Everyday, I wonder how I will continue without them. I miss their voices. I miss their wisdom. I miss their touches. I miss their unconditional, always & forever love.
Inside, I miss them.
Personal Wellness at the conference
4 days ago
7 comments:
Pegs, this is a beautiful tribute to your family and the legacy they have left in you. I am so sorry you are hurting from these losses, btu am thankful you are sharing this with us so we can pray for comfort, healing, peace and purpose. You are loved.
I'm not going to pretend to know how you feel on the having so many losses so quickly part. But, one thing I decided long ago for myself and my daughter (because we have little true family) was that we will build our own traditions, our own lives. Hard. But fun.
I'm back again.
I read this post this morning and it has been in my mind and on my heart throughout the day.
Dear Peggy,
You don't know me but I found your blog through Kari's and I've always enjoyed reading. I haven't commented until now but your post today really got to me. I am 30 years old and I also lost my mom when I was 19. My father turned into a completely different person after that, different from anything I'd ever known him to be (we were close before), that in many ways I feel as though I also lost my dad then even though I know it's not the same as the person actually dying. In addition to this, after my mom's death, her parents disowned my father and did everything in their power to turn me and my sister against him (though he wasn't helping his cause any). Today my grandma (grandpa died 3 years ago) pretends that my father doesn't exist at all which makes for some awkward conversation to say the least. I was also very close to both my grandparents on my mom's side growing up, they were the perfect grandparents (or so it seemed) and now my grandma is the most bitter person and is not fun to talk to at all. So even though I haven't experienced the actual physical losses to the staggering degree that you have, I think one of the hardest things about the loss of my mom is that it sort of sparked a change in an entire side of my family and the perfect image I had of everyone as a child just began to unravel and die. That is something that I've had to grieve. I grieve the fact that things aren't the way they used to be in my family (even though much of it was a facade) and they won't ever be that way again. But I still pray for restoration of relationships and I pray for the salvation of these family members who are still living. And God has been so faithful to me through all of this. He drew me to Himself, sometimes kicking and screaming. Don't give up on Him, Peggy. He hasn't given up on you even though it may seem that way sometimes.
Anyway, I just wanted to say that I understand some of the thoughts you are having because I've had some of them myself. I felt a little weird sharing this with a complete stranger but for some time I have felt a kinship with you and so I wanted to offer my support and prayers today. I know we don't know each other, but I'd be happy to chat or email if you ever felt like you needed someone to talk to who sort of understands. Thanks for sharing so honestly. I am holding tight to the promise that God will "repay the years the locusts have eaten" and I pray the same for you today.
Praying for you,
Kristen
Thank you for sharing....that feels like an odd thing to say, but it's really all that seems appropriate. Thank you so much...
I want to tell you how I am crying as I write this tonight. i want you to know that I am angry anyone should have to suffer this depth of loss, and especially you. I want you to know that tonight when I pray I will ask God that He would let me share this grief with you. So that, in some small way, maybe your load will lessen. Maybe the ache and loss will feel a little less heavy tomorrow, your load a little more light.
It's strange to me that we have never met and yet tonight I am crying for your loss of your family. But Pegs, you have not lost your heritage...it lives on in you. You are their legacy. your love, your heart, your voice...your heritage lives on.
feeling this heartache for you. thank you for sharing these pieces of your family. you are a life telling the story of how amazing they all were.
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