The moments they come when I least expect them. And it’s crazy, because growing up with some of the toughest women I’ve ever known – I think I should know how to ‘pull up my boot straps’ and just keep, ‘goin’ and blowin.’ However, on nights like tonight, I realize I’m not as good at it as I thought, because when I picked up the phone to call you and scrolled to find your name, I was quickly and emotionally taken back at my daunting forgetfulness.
It seems like there should be a cure for this by now, right?
People have been losing people they love since the fall in the garden. Lives turned upside down with the sudden and/or expected loss of a friend, mother, father, sister, brother, grandmother…and aunt. It seems we should know how to keep going, without the daunting bouts of forgetfulness haunting us every few days, weeks, and months that follow.
But we don’t have a cure. And we haven’t figured it out.
However, tonight as I was scrolling through social media before bed
(I know, bad habit…)– I ran across this video. And though I knew listening would be a bad idea, I had to. I had to listen...for you.
Because what I realized was…your life is a life worthy of being missed.
So I won’t stop missing you. I’ll miss you tonight. Probably in a few days when I have an off day and need to vent to someone who will 1) tell me that most of it is me being a diva and 2) that God has a plan bigger than I can see. And then of course in a few months when the family gathers, and your presence will be more than missed – but longed for.
Nana, you were ‘my person.’ And what hurts me the most, is I don’t think I ever told you that. But yet, I know you probably knew that because it wasn’t just me, you were that figure, that friend, that counselor, that accountability, that _____ for so many.
You were the light. The humor, the love, and the inappropriate jokes just at the perfect time. You were the butter to the recipe of our life – the best part. You told me when to stop biting my nails and when to pick up my head. You gave me the courage to say goodbye, only because you knew what I would be saying hello to. You were the wisdom I lacked, the laughter I cherish, and the truth I needed.
You were and continue to be one of my most favorite humans.
And while watching that video, I quickly remembered that you joined a couple other of my favorite ladies up there – Aunt Mo and Granny. I know y’all all are probably looking down and laughing when I get myself into even more awkward situations, wonderin’ why I’m working so much, why I’m dating so little, and most of all – making sure that all of those left behind are protected and unharmed in ways we’ll never ever know each day.
So I write this post for you Nana, Granny, and Aunt Mo – but also for everyone out there who’s missed someone they love.
Those of you who’ve shed a few tears each time you’ve had to keep moving through milestones and little moments that you wouldn’t wanted to share with that certain someone. Those of you who’ve just wanted one more talk, one more hug, one more _____, and then possible introduce them to a future spouse or child, or for me – hear at least one more inappropriate comment about a male’s buttocks.
You’re not alone. And whoever it is you miss…miss ’em. And miss ’em hard. But then, as my Nana would have said to me – so I’ll say to you, “just keep goin’ and blowin’…you’ll get where you’re supposed to be, and they’ll be with you when you get there.”
So, here’s to you my person – Nana, know I’m gonna shed my tears tonight and probably in a few days and definitely through the holidays; but know that I’m super happy you’re with the One your heart passionately loved. And though I miss you more than I can describe, specifically in moments when I really could use one of our talks, I wouldn’t want to take you away from the most perfect and wonderful part of eternity.
But don’t worry, I’ll continue to cherish all the memories. And one day there may be less tears and more solemn moments followed with a smirk or two, but for now I’ll let the tears fall and I’ll listen to this song more times than I can count. And most of all, I’ll continue to thank God for the beautiful gift it was to call you family, to call you Aunt, to call you Nana.
And yes, I’m jealous of the angels around the throne tonight. Wishing I could laugh right next to them as you make jokes and honestly, probably ones that even make the big man upstairs blush. (Oops)
So, when I miss you, I’ll look up and tell you. And I’ll take a breath and remember you. And then I’ll ‘pull up my boot straps’ and keep ‘goin’ and blowin...’ well, because that’s what you would have told me anyway.
When I miss you.