Life is...An Obituary

 Life is...An Obituary

My Gma would have been 87 years old today. Sometimes I write as the emotions hit me. Sometimes I need to process in order to write.

My Gma died almost a month ago. I could share a million memories, but I'm not sure they would matter to you.

An obituary is fine but is so incomplete. Here is what I would say about my Gma.

1 Corinthians 13:13 was read at her funeral..."And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love."

My Gma lived out FAITH, HOPE, and LOVE.

And I would add JOY.

They weren't just words that she didn't put into action. She lived them out to show their purpose and their power.

Even during her last months, during a worldwide pandemic, she was teaching me. 

Here's what I learned through her Actions...

1. Even when I'm confused, scared, and hurting I want to be someone others want to be around. Someone who exemplifies JOY and HOPE.

2. Even during a pandemic of fear Gma showed LOVE and FAITH. She said but also showed that LOVE drives out Fear!

There is a great song by Kari Jobe "The Blessing" 

"May His favor be upon you
And a thousand generations
And your family and your children
And their children, and their children

In your coming, and your going
In your weeping, and rejoicing
He is for you, He is for you"

I feel comforted during the weeping and thankful for the amazing blessing that has come to me, because of the FAITH, HOPE, LOVE, and JOY from previous generations. 

May we continue it on to be a blessing to others.

Life is...Waiting 4 Death

Life is...Waiting 4 Death

Just rants. Just rants. Just rants.
No checking. No filter. No censoring. No...

Just pure emotion. Pure heartache.
Pure sadness.

Confusion.

What?
What am I supposed to do?
How do you wait?
How do you wait for someone you love to die?
How do you go on as normal?
How do you be there for them?
What is enough?
What is right?
What helps?
What?

Cry. Cry. Breakdown.
Grieving before the death.
Grieving as if death had already come.
Grief.
Pain.
Sadness.

What do I say?
Do I pretend everything is normal?
Do I breakdown?
Do I say everything I’ve said before?

Do you know?
Do you know how I feel?
Do you know how much you’ll be missed?
Do you know?

Memories
I have them.
No - it’s not enough.

Don’t say contrite things.
Don’t try to take away my sadness.
Let me be.
Let me mourn.
Let me.

It may not be right, but this is how I feel.

I love you Gma!

~Nancy Bruscher
www.GenerationsToGenerations.com
Dedicated to Capturing Memories
Blog: https://lifeisbynancy.blogspot.com

Dreams (part 2)

Life is...Dreams (part 2)

Waiting for someone to die is hard, emotionally draining. I was miles away struggling: how do I be there for her and my family? Had I done enough? Had I said everything I wanted to say? I had, a million times, but still those doubts come. Gma wanted to go to heaven. I had never seen her stop fighting before. She was ready.

Sometimes I asked God, why don’t you take her? Please don’t make her suffer!

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” Ecclesiastes 3:11

God’s timing is perfect!

Maybe Gma was ready, but her friends and family weren’t. God had something to teach us through that time of waiting.

Dreams

Life is...Dreams

Grandma (Gma) Redenius and I were sitting in a parking lot. I was driving and she was in the passenger seat. She said, “Get a cookie if there are still some in the freezer.” I knew she meant one of hers – cooking and baking were part of who she was & she passed on that gift. I gave her another huge hug and with tears in my eyes I said, “You know I love you very much.” She nodded. She was almost too tired to respond. She looked at me and said, “You have to let me go now. I need to rest.” I agreed. I put her car into drive, held her hand, and said, “I will be right here.” We started driving. She closed her eyes and not long after, she went to heaven. I pulled over, cried, and opened the window (symbolically letting her spirit go).

I woke up.

The clock said 3:44 am. I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping anymore that night. I went to the bathroom & prayed. My daughter cried. I was reminded that life goes on, even if we’re not ready for it to. (Ecclesiastes 3:2) I fed Rachel and then covered up my son and gave him a kiss before I started the long day…

I waited to hear - was Gma still in hospice or was she finally Home.

Home with the Lord she had served her whole life.

Hands & Feet

Life is…Hands & Feet

I only need to open Facebook to see someone mourning. In one day I saw 4 people post that they had lost a loved one. I’m bombarded with sadness. If I’m not careful I become overwhelmed and shut down instead of connecting. How often do I send a sad emoji or a quick note – sometimes that’s all I can do -but putting actions to words takes me out of my own life – makes me realize, really realize, I’m not the center. In the Bible we see Jesus not just giving words but getting messy and involved: truly “mourning with those who mourn.” (Romans 12:15) Jesus physically helped people: the blind man, the leper, the dead girl, just to name a few. He didn’t help everyone, and we don’t need to either - we can’t.

I’ve seen a few instances this last week of people putting aside their own agendas and busy schedules and loving others: my mom brining soup and sitting with a sick friend and a man at church organizing a work day where many came to help a grieving widow.
Many times we here “Be the Hands and Feet of Jesus” it sounds nice – let’s actually do it!

Tell your story...www.GenerationsToGenerations.com

Peace

Life is...Peace

I walked into my grandpa’s room and immediately bawled. I tried to stop, knowing it wouldn’t help him, but this was not my grandpa. He was not the man who gave me rides in the nail bin at the hardware store where he worked, not the man who took us to Chicago to see the Cubs play, not the man who bid on a pinochle hand before picking up his cards...and mostly won the hand, to my dismay :) 

Though his body was still there, his spirit seemed absent.

It had only been a few months since I saw him, but the change was drastic. 

I attempted to talk about the weather, football, Christmas...nothing. Not knowing what to do, how to spend this one-on-one time with the grandpa I loved, knowing it was probably one of the last times I’d have, I held his hand and read the Christmas story - Matthew (minus the first 17 verses :)

An instant peace fell over us. His hands stopped shaking, the constant moaning ceased, and all was still. He even began to really hold my hand and truly be present. If I stopped for a drink the shaking and moaning returned, but as soon as I began reading it was an immediate change...a Christmas miracle.
Our time ended with Grandpa being able to tell me, “I love you!”

Though I want to remember my grandpa as he was before that day, I will always treasure the special moments we shared on our last Christmas Day together as I read about Jesus coming into the world to dwell among us and His promises.

Tell your story...www.GenerationsToGenerations.com

Loss

Life is...Loss

Recently I have become vigilant about what I say to a grieving family after a loved one has passed away, namely what questions I ask...how old was he, did she have kids, was he married? I have asked these questions countless times myself, because I didn’t know what to say or genuinely wanted to know more about the person. However, I discovered that these questions, though not meant to be hurtful, often are, because what the grieving person hears is...since they didn’t have kids it’s not as sad? Because they were a certain age it’s okay? We try to make the loss easier or comfort others, but many times only add to the pain. We don’t need to rationalize someone’s death, but realize that no matter how old, how they passed away, or what their marital status was: that person is missed. 

I realized this more fully when we miscarried for the second time. The first time was physically painless and happened quickly. This miscarriage was drawn out for days, included two visits to the midwives, two ER visits, was physically painful, and ended with emergency surgery. I have realized over the last week that though our baby was never born, he or she impacted a lot of lives: from the ER doctor who had tears in her eyes as she gave us the news that our baby had died, to friends and family who grieved with us, and to me being so thankful to have our son - even more thankful each day than I was before, which I thought was impossible. 

As mothers we have been given such a special gift in carrying our babies. My husband is not struggling with the loss as much as I am. We both have profound faith and know that it is God’s will. We’re not angry, and we know our baby is in heaven, but at first I was a little upset that he wasn’t mourning as much as me. Then God put something on my heart...I carried the baby, if only for a small time.

I was reminded of our baby growing inside of me every moment of every day, where he wasn’t. Every coffee not drank, every back pain, every upset stomach, every excruciating cramp was a reminder that I had a baby. What a special gift God has given women, though pregnancy and birth are uncomfortable, I wouldn’t change it for the world. I pray I will be given the opportunity to carry another baby - and carry him or her full-term, to hold another baby in my arms, to give him or her love. This is my prayer. 

Tell your story...www.GenerationsToGenerations.com