Wish You Were Here

Sometimes I imagine talking to her now that I have a son myself.  One that's rambunctious, energetic, and playful, just like I've been told her son was.  I imagine getting to hug her again, sharing dresses and shoes, and even sitting together over a glass of orange Gatorade.  I picture calling her for advice on how to cook Brian's favorite meal and for direction on how to keep a wild child calm.  She has been there.

But now, she's not here.

She left us a year ago today.  She left behind two amazing children, who between the two of them, have given her six grandchildren:  4 who are here, 1 who is with her in Heaven, and 1 who is on his way.  She left behind 3 little ones who called her, "Nana."  They now live in the house she and her precious husband shared.  She also left behind 1 she never met.  She died just 5 weeks before he was born.  And she'll won't be here for this 1 who's on the way... 

However, she's meeting the 1 grandbaby we never did.  When I miscarried, I can remember her being very quiet about it.  She hugged me, but she honestly never discussed it with me.  I don't know if it's because my sorrow made her uncomfortable or because it was difficult for her as well.  I can remember months later, when I became pregnant with our second, that she said, "It is finally time."  I recall her telling me right after Brian and I were married to wait at least a year before getting pregnant, and when I miscarried before our first anniversary, she later told me that it just wasn't time.  That statement from her cut like a knife, but a year after her passing, I'm thankful to have that memory of her. 

Why?  Because she was honest.  She was blunt.  She sometimes hurt your feelings.  Yet she had an incredible way of wanting more of her...  At least, that's how I am feeling now.  Oh, to have just one day with her.  To introduce her to Daniel.  To have her speak to her grandchild in my womb.  To open the fridge to find she has bought Coke in glass bottles and to see the cabinet full of cereal just for us.  To have her tell me what I'm doing right...  and what I'm doing wrong.  To teach me how to cook.  To shop until we dropped.  To just be here. 

Yet, now that she is gone, I'm happy for her.  I'm even somewhat jealous.  She's in the place we all long to go, and she's now happier than I'll ever be while here.  There are days when I cannot wait to be there with her, but for the most part, I'm selfish and wish she was here... 

In memory of my mother-in-law, Cindy