One year ago yesterday, Chad and Jamison were in Ethiopia. Krissy was impatiently waiting for Wyatt to make his appearance, and the other four kids and I . .
headed to my Grandma and Grandpa's house.
We had the truck loaded with Papa Murphy's pizza, salad, watermelon, and soda. We shared lunch with my grandparents, and then we headed outside. The kids climbed the tickle tree (weeping willow), rode ancient bicycles, and explored the farmyard. My grandparents and I chatted while we laughed at them. They took us for a walk around the yard. We admired the flowers and the garden. My grandma pulled out a scrapbook she had put together of ancestors. She showed me photos of my great, great, great grandmother Mathea. I apologized for spelling our Mataya's name "wrong." Grandma said it didn't matter. Grandpa told me our spelling was prettier. (In truth, I did not know I had a grandmother named Mathea when we named our baby - BUT it has made TayTay's name even more special.) Mataya was not very outgoing last summer, however she was full of hugs and love for my grandparents. I was shocked and thrilled.
It was a precious day.
Simple.
Quiet.
Lazy.
Beautiful.
I can not believe that I will not have any more days with them.
It is just so very shocking.
I read recently, "Grief is a funny thing. It hits like a huge waves in the sea, one after another, at first. Then the waves are a little less frequent until eventually a whole day passes without one hitting. But when it does, each wave is nearly as intense as the first. And they can come at the most unexpected times."
I thought that an accurate explanation of the grief - at least in my experience. My Grandma and Grandpa Flach have been residents of heaven for about 12 years. Though I no longer think of them daily, there are still moments in which the missing of them takes my breath away. But - the beauty in that is twofold. One, I had a wonderful relationship with them. Two, I know without a doubt that I will see them again someday.
Here are a few more pictures from that beautiful afternoon a year ago. I can not bring grandma and grandpa a pizza picnic this summer, but I can cherish that precious day one year ago.
My grandpa loved fruit. My kids do too. We always tried to bring fruit when we visited. Even when he was in the hospital, I tucked a little container of fruit into my purse when I visited him.
Oh how I miss this. How I would love to sit at that table with them again.
Thank you Jesus that someday we will all feast together again.
