Life. A gift often taken for granted.
Death. A part of that gift, most of the time feared.
I have lost three grandparents and two pets so far into my life. All of them heartbreaking and moments in my life where my family has pulled together. Two of these deaths felt almost unbearable.
I grew up always being close to my mom's mom. She only lived four hours away, so holidays and weekend trips were nothing out of the ordinary. She was an amazing cook and an incredible sewer/knitter. I looked up to her and always looked forward to when we would next be visiting Grandma. One year for my birthday she bought me a fashion notebook, with a note encouraging my creativeness (at the time my family and school mates saw it as a weird phase where I wore mismatched patterns everyday). That gift played a huge part in my creative outlet and gave me confidence to do so. I remember the night my parents told us that she had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I believe I was in third or fourth grade and didn't fully grasp exactly what it meant. After that we started taking more trips than normal to see her. It was hard as a little girl to watch my Grandma lose a whole lot of weight and then her hair and then her energy. When she was moved into hospice my mom practically moved up there with her. For many consecutive months my mom traveled back and forth to be with her during her last year alive. My dad would then drive us up to visit her. I remember one of my last conversations with her, laying in her hospice bed with her as she read me a book about Heaven. I so very clearly remember her telling me to look for her on the golf course when I, too, made it to Heaven. Looking back, it is comforting to know that she is no longer in pain, doing what she loves most up with our Savior. But I remember being so angry as a little girl that my grandma had to be taken away from me, and in such a painful way. It was so hard. My grandma was such a beautiful and talented woman. So many events have happened since her death when I wish she could have been there to witness and experience them with me as she did when I was a little girl.
The other painful death just happened 12 weeks ago. Our sweet Sadie girl. I remember mom being a little worried about her losing weight a few weeks before finals started. Being the hypochondriac that I am, after they started running tests on her, I knew something was up. And the fact that I wasn't home-and then once I did make it home I would be leaving the country for two weeks-didn't really help quiet my racing mind. One night I called home sometime around one in the morning. My mind was racing and I couldn't sleep, worrying about the test results they would be receiving the next morning. The results would say if her organs had stopped working. And we all knew that she was past the point of any type of operation. My parents both prayed with me over the phone and I went to bed. Mom called the next day to say the test results were exactly what we wanted-nothing terminal that they could read from those tests. But we still didn't know what was wrong. I didn't hear anything about Sadie those next couple of weeks during finals, so I had assumed no news was good news. When Mom came and picked me up to take me home for the summer, she told me the unbearable. She said Sadie was much, much worse and there was nothing they could do. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't drink. She was very bloated and could hardly move. I cried the entire hour and a half car ride home. Mom told me to spend as much time as I could with her the next two days I would be home before leaving for the Dominican Republic. When I got home I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My sweet, sweet Sadie girl was hardly recognizable from seeing her just a few weeks prior. She was huge and wouldn't move a lot. I felt so helpless, there was nothing I, or any of us, could do to lessen her pain. The night before I left for the DR she came into my room (Sadie always slept in my bed with me) and I tried so hard to convince her that she could make it up into my bed. After some encouraging, "Come on, Sadie, you can do it"s, she tried and fell off my bed. I just started crying. This couldn't be happening. My Sadie girl couldn't be dying. She was only eight years old. She was only half way through with her life. This isn't fair!! Why, God, were you taking this perfect, sweet dog away from our family?? Emily came into my room and we made her stairs to use to climb into my bed for her last night with me. I had to be up at four in the morning for my flight, but I stayed up until midnight with her, feeding her ice chips (the only way we could even attempt to keep her hydrated was by feeding her ice chips from our hand). I woke up at three the next morning to give her more ice. I felt her nose and it was completely dry. Again. "Come on, Sadie," I told her, "Don't you want to live? Why won't you drink or eat? Why are you leaving us?" I was so angry. I cried and gave her ice chips and cried some more. Saying good-bye to her as I left for the airport was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Saying goodbye to someone you love so much, it's so painful. But I am so thankful for that last night with her in my bed. I made my mom promise me that she would e-mail our trip leader right away if Sadie died. I was so nervous about my trip because I was worried my mind would be back home with Sadie, rather than with the people I was supposed to be serving. After four days of not hearing anything, I called home. I asked Mom if Sadie was still alive. She tried to change the subject. I remember forcefully asking her again. No response. And then I knew. Sadie was gone. My sweet, perfect, favorite dog was gone. The playful girl who slept with me every night was gone. The loyal dog, who, every time I came home from school would run up to me and wag her tail, letting me know she knew who I was and was so glad to see me again. My sweet Sadie girl was gone from us and I wasn't there when she left. I later learned that my parents had asked my siblings if they agreed it was time to put her out of her pain. They agreed and my parents drove her to the vet that night. They told me it was the hardest thing they have ever done in their marriage, having to put our sweet girl to sleep. I can't even imagine, and I don't blame my siblings for not wanting to be there to watch it. When my mom picked me up after my trip I couldn't walk into our garage door. Knowing that Sadie wasn't sitting on the other side of the door to greet me was gut wrenching. Knowing that she would never be there again was so hard. It took me two weeks to stop randomly breaking down in public and at home, for the numbness to go away. And we all know that she was a dog and not human. But she was so much apart of our family and she was taken so quickly. It's painful. It is so painful. And then there is guilt, too. Guilt for not being there on her last day alive, to be there for a final goodbye as a family. Guilt for so quickly turning around and getting another puppy. We know that we could never replace Sadie, ever. She was too good of a dog. But you want to know something that we just recently discovered and gave us all goosebumps? Sadie died on May 7. And Benson was born on May 7. Hmm.
Both of these deaths have played a huge impact in who I have become. They have reminded me of how fragile life is. They have also reminded me of what lies ahead of us after this life.
Two weeks ago a girl I went to high school with died after her car was driven into the lake not two miles from my house. Oh my gosh. It completely shook up our town. She was identified as missing Thursday and then they found her car that Sunday. I graduated with her sister, and the girl was Emily's age. I cannot even imaging what her sister is going through. I don't have a personal relationship with either of them, but that doesn't stop my sadness for their family and for everyone who knows them. I pray for their family daily. No family should ever have to go through a tragedy as this one. I loved, though, seeing our town come together and lean on one another. While it's sad that it had to take such tragic thing to happen for us to come together, it was beautiful to witness. This whole situation has really shook me up on life and death. How, at any moment, God can call any of us to go be with Him.
I went through a stage where I was ready for death--not suicidal, no. Just, I was ready to go to Heaven and wasn't afraid of dying. While I'm still not afraid of dying, I know that God has a specific plan and purpose for my life before He calls me home. This girl, while I never even had a conversation with her, has touched me. She has reminded me of the fragility of life. She has reminded me not taken anyone or anything for granted. I hate that her life had to be taken for all of us in this town to be reminded of that, though.
I don't really know what exactly the point of this post was. For me, I needed an outlet to express these thoughts I have had bottled up these past two weeks. Her tragic death has caused for those memories of my grandma and dog's deaths to resurface. It felt really good to write them out and to cry while doing so. Crying is always such a good outlet of emotions for me. Thanks for reading, friend. Please know I am so thankful for this life that I have been given and for the people God has put into my life. His plan is so much greater than our own and I am so blessed to be surrounded by such wonderful people. I don't want to waste this precious life God has given me by being afraid anymore. I'm ready to start really living this gift of life.
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