the things that make me cry

Amy's Coffee Talk

Losing someone or the thought that one day they may be gone and I can't do anything about it.

When Nan passed last August, Grampa requested we take all her clothes away and change the bed to something smaller. Despite her repeated attempts to limit how much alcohol Gramps drank over the years, he never gave heed, but after she left he didn't touch a single drop for days. I don't think he was quite the same without Nan. That could be why he went a year after.

One afternoon as he lay in the hospital, with my mum reading the papers by the window, he suddenly turned as if his name had been called. "Oh hey dear", he said, looking up. My mum glanced around to see who he was addressing and decided to watch quietly. "What's it like over there?" Gramps asked softly, eyes focused on the same place still. After what seemed like seconds of silence to my mum, Gramps piped up, "Ok, ok, stop boasting. I'll join you soon."

Gramps was afraid of dying. We knew that well. Both he and Nan fought hard in the final days, as if there was unfinished business. Then again, I guess they were fierce fighters all their lives. Nan was in the hospital for 16 days before leaving on her birthday. I wondered if she was waiting for that or their wedding anniversary 24 hours later. 

There was plenty of strife in the first two weeks but then a peace came over her and Nan decided she was ready to let go. One can't beat heaven as a birthday present after all. I had hoped for Jesus to be there to take her hand and let her know everything was going to be great. What I will call "Nan's little visit" to Gramps that afternoon was probably a turning point for him. I took assurance too. I wanted to know they were going to a far better place. 

Nan was the first close person I lost. I had a strange unspoken expectation she and Gramps would be around forever. Perhaps that stemmed from my strong hesitation towards growing up and facing the fact that I too will get old and experience the inevitable changes that accompany. Many times, I revert to living in the past instead of confronting the truth. There's this happy place for escaping, all in the confines of my brain. But reality always hits and I realise I have to deal with life as it is and the fact that loved ones won't always be with me. 

Since my early teens or a couple years prior, I've had a fear of losing family and close friends. Some days it's more overwhelming than others but every time I read a story about loss (whether fact or fiction), a deep sense of grief wells up in my stomach and I wail. I cried over this song by Avril Lavigne, which led me to write this post in the first place.

I even weep over imaginary conversations and events surrounding loss and heartache - as in I'll start talking aloud while playing two characters and then I'll find myself bawling (No, I don't do this in public). Can I blame this on too much TV? I have to find a way to switch off the part of my mind that keeps creating these scenarios, or figure out how to divert my creativity. These imaginary scenarios, they're so vivid.

Maybe it has to do with where my security lies. Who would make me feel safe and balanced if the people who are my world disappeared? You may protest and tell me that God should be my world and security now I'm old enough to understand and walk in faith. You may tell me that life is beautiful and I should make the most out of it and not just try to survive until we get to the good bits. God is trustworthy and good you say.

It's not that I disagree. It's just hard to put these words into practice and be utterly convinced and convicted by them at the very core of my being, so they're lived out every single day with full confidence and joy. There are people on this earth who frighten and upset me, situations like disease and disasters that are scary too, and sometimes I'm afraid God will allow me to encounter these as a way of maturing my character.

I want the ability to completely protect those who matter to me from harm's way and ensure they are healthy and fulfilled all the time, and I shudder at the thought that one day I will have to say goodbye. It's weird that I have a tendency to keep certain ones I care about most at arm's length though, as if to shield my heart and give my head room to deny they will definitely go at some point. Bids the question, "Who do I love more - them or myself?"

If it didn't hurt so much to lose them, would I be braver? Reminds me of the verse "perfect love drives out all fear" - if I can surrender the need to be secure the way I want to be right now, then maybe I can let God take care of the safety and well-being of my family and friends and decide what's best for them and me. Then even when pain does come into the picture, I will find perfect peace and restoration in God.