snow day.

28 Jul 2010 10 Comments

by mary kathryn tyson in family & friends who are family

i borrowed this from the old blog i had for my old business, creative juices. for some reason, i just thought i’d share it with you. i hope it ministers to you somehow…

thursday, february 18, 2007

early this snowy morning i was sitting with a bunch of friends in aa when the power went out. there in the dark room that was illuminated only by the glow of the snow outside, i was listening to them each share, one by one. like a faucet that had just been turned off, i started to cry just a little bit, and for no apparent reason. and then someone mentioned how it reminded them of when the power went out for a week following a snowstorm a few years ago. i remember that snowstorm, it was the first week of december 2002. i remember because my granddad died about 30 minutes before the power went out. and that’s when i realized why i was crying.

so i shared my story of what i was experiencing. and this is what it was:

that year, i had started moving into a house in morrisville and almost immediately moved my things out of one home and chose a new place to live in chapel hill so that i would be near my granddad. my grandma died on father’s day of 2002 and i knew in my spirit that my granddad would be gone within one year. he wasn’t especially sick, other than pretty typical old-people ailments. he was like an old house with creaky floors and leaky faucets. but i just knew inside that he would soon be going on. around the time of my grandmother’s death, i knew i was supposed to move to new york, but i planned to wait until the following summer so i would be here when my granddad passed away. mind you, i wasn’t hoping for it and i didn’t treat him like he was dying. it was just a knowing i had.

around thanksgiving, i remember he went to the emergency room a couple of times, but he wasn’t dying. and still, about 10 days later, as soon as that hard winter snow started falling, my dad called. he said my granddad was in a deep, deep sleep and it was different. he said, if i could, i might want to come over. the snow was really falling hard and it had already started to grow on the ground. but i knew i could make it in my four-wheel drive if i was careful. i lived just off the backroads on the way to his house.

when i got there, it was plain to see that what my dad said was true. my granddad was in another place, although he was still breathing. each time he exhaled, he whispered, “hallelujah to jesus”. can you imagine? it wasn’t like he was talking in his sleep. he was saying this from the place where he was. he loved the Lord with all of his heart and served God with everything he had. at his funeral, the bishop likened him to…ack!…malachi? (the guy who was there and then suddenly he was no longer because the Lord just took him).

he was our patriarch, and my sisters and i were his only grandchildren. we all know that my older sister, molly, was his favorite. i called her from his bedside to give her the update. a student at duke divinity school, she lived on the other side of durham at the time. my little sister, sarah hope, lived with my mom on the other side of chapel hill. i don’t know why i was chosen, why i had the gift of being there; neither of them could make it on the roads. that often tends to be the case, though; that i’m The One. (karen calls me ‘the remnant’.) when i called molly, i put the phone up to my sweet granddad’s ear and immediately the cadence of his breath changed. i still don’t know what she said, but i know he heard her. that’s also how i know he was still present in both worlds.

i don’t remember what i said to him before i left, but i knew when it was time to go. the next morning, around 7:30 -also the time at which i was sharing my story this morning, and it felt like it could have been the same day- my dad called to say that my granddad had passed about an hour prior, and about 30 minutes before the power went out. sweet granddad.

but i didn’t really even share all of that this morning. some of it. but where i was this morning is that, at the time, we were going through so much, anyway, and my job was still to be the protector of all that was. i cried that day and at his funeral, but…i didn’t really grieve his death at the time. i had justified it by saying, “it was time. i knew it was coming. i’m really okay.” but, now i realize, the truth was that i was just coping. and when i started my counseling 2 1/2 years ago, i went back and started to grieve events of my life, and deal with different issues the way you usually do in therapy, but i would find reasons and means to escape when it became too much to bear.

and today i was so grateful that i was really able to remember that morning in 2002, and literally feel the day the way it felt that day, and properly mourn his death and his loss in my life. he was such a special person and a great man and a really important person in my life. and so, today, i am missing him the way one is supposed to be missed. i loved him very much.

i live in their home now -another gift- and i sleep in the bed in which both he and my grandma died. i know that sounds a little bit creepy. it’s not, though. when i got home, i laid down on top of his side where he died and i told him some things and then i let him go. i guess i had already let him go, but it felt different today.

it was a special morning, one that i know won’t be soon forgotten. and i’m glad that i was able to really feel that today. i didn’t have to make it bigger or smaller than it needed to be, but i could appreciate it and feel it and cry over it and express it.

and so, today, i am grateful.

xo

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