Today is the 29th of August. Two days away from the 31st, and it feels like a countdown to an event I can't stop from happening. I have to be honest and say I never really understood why the anniversary of someone's death was a big deal to those they left behind. Especially after a year or so... I mean, are you not 'used' to the fact that they're gone? Get on with your life already and stop moping, feeling sorry for yourself, wallowing in old sorrow. Then, it happened to me. I lost Grandma, and my perspective on life was altered forever. On August 31st, two days from now, Grandma will have been gone for three years. It doesn't seem possible, yet I know it's true. I haven't talked to her in three years. I haven't seen her face in three years. And since then, every time August has come around, beginning with August 1, the entire month feels like a countdown. I tried to describe it to Matt, and the only way I knew how was to say, it's sort of like, she's not gone yet, but the day I know she's leaving is ticking closer and closer, and I can't do anything to stop it. That is completely irrational, and yes, I know she's gone, but that date... August 31st... it's just hard. I know she's in heaven. I know she's beautiful and happy... so happy, but August 31st still sucks for us down here.
I pulled out her Bible this month. She came to Belle and Estella Dru's baby dedication at church (FBCS) in November, 9 months before she died. It was the day they handed out the Holman Christian Standard Bibles. She got one of the old people, big font versions, and she was so excited about it. Inside I found the baby dedication program with Belle and Dru's pictures. (They were so little, 18 months and 3 months.) She was also excited about following the one-year reading plan and followed it every single day. She had never read completely through the Bible before and complained profusely about Leviticus. (Don't we all...) I found her reading guide today and saw she had marked through every day, missing none. Her last mark was made next to August 29. Today. August 29. (She got sick that night, and the ambulance came the morning of the 30th.)
We are going home this weekend to be with Grandpa. It's a hard day for him, too. Plus his birthday is on Sept 3rd--the day we buried her. (Talk about something that sucks.) He'll be 86. I plan on taking the girls to get flowers and letting them put them on her grave. Belle still tells me she misses her, and Drusy wants to remember her so bad. I think a lot about what she'd think of Jeb. She would adore him. I can just see her holding him. And I think she would think I'm a good mom. Sometimes I think those are the words I want to hear the most from her. "You're doing good, Honey." Although, I'd settle for "Hi."
I just miss her.