For Gram

I take it back. When I said that the sweet moment with my Gram was just a step in the plan……I take it back. It WAS the plan. Or at least a big big part of it.

Gram spent the next 6 days in the hospital, squeezing our hands and nodding in order to communicate. She looked us in the eye, and even managed to let out a few smiles here and there. We kept her comfortable, prayed, jumped up every time we heard a beep, waited, didn’t sleep, prayed some more, and continued to wait.

In those 6 days, I thought about EVERYTHING. As many memories I had with her that I could think of…..sorting through pictures to try to remember more. Talking with her, telling her stories, trying to grasp every second of our time. I felt guilty when I wasn’t at the hospital, and struggled with the balance of continuing to live ‘life’ during this tragedy. But what I was missing….although it sounds obvious….is that IS life. We have our plans…..our ideas of what we should be doing, need to do, should have done. But the saying ‘life gets in the way’ has always been slightly confusing to me.

Life gets in the way of………life? It makes NO sense!

The good, the bad, the ugly, the confusing, the messy, the funny….it IS life. Even when we don’t want it, or expect it, or ask for it…..it’s LIFE. Living isn’t just embracing the exciting things, or doing as many things as possible. Sometimes, living LIFE is just being in the moment…..dropping what’s around you and being there….mind, body, and spirit. If it’s different from what we thought we should be doing on Tuesday, because our to-do list is big and there’s no time for fun, whatever it is has BECOME your Tuesday.

I planned on painting my Grandma’s nails on Tuesday. I planned on sitting with her at the hospital, painting our nails, and watching Ellen on TV. I planned to run to Meijer to grab a few pictures frames for her home that I would fill with pictures of my sister and I with her and Gramps. I planned on getting fast food because I didn’t want to take the time to cook anything…….and I planned on calling back a friend who had called a few days prior.

At 5:50am on Tuesday, my Gram passed away. Things took a turn for the worse overnight, and I was lucky enough to be alongside my family, holding her hands as she passed away. I witnessed the haunting feeling of someone’s last breath…..but was soon overwhelmed with the presence of peace….within us and within our Gram. A peace that only comes with one's unification with Christ. 

I’ve sat down to write this post 4 times now……each time it’s hard…unbearable almost. And I close my computer thinking that the next time will be easier….but it’s not. It’s not easier because Gram is still gone….and I can’t run over to her house and see her sitting in her blue chair. I can’t kiss her on the cheek and say ‘love ya, Gram’ anymore. It’s still painful, and I think it always will be.

However, today, I reread what I had already written……and reminded myself that this IS life. This is my Wednesday night. I don’t want to sit here right now and write this….but this is where life is right now….and pushing it away will only be throwing a ball against the wall…it’s gonna come right back and hit me in the face over and over again.

Gram was the strongest woman I have ever met. Aside from being my grandmother, she was so special to me. I loved learning from her, hearing the stories of her life. And above all, I loved watching her love and be loved by Gramps. Very few things scared Gram….she was proud of her life, knew the struggles were helpful, learned from her mistakes, and put a genuine smile on every day. Maybe not all day, and maybe only one little one some days….but she smiled every day.

She looked for beauty.

She WAS beauty.

Gram taught me to give, to do for others, to love like Christ, and to be faithful. She also taught me how to reuse wrapping paper from every holiday or event…..how to reuse anything and everything, in fact. She taught me to be patient, and to just sit and enjoy the little things. She taught me how to sew…and how to tear out almost all of my thread after several attempts to make something. She taught me how to live LIFE in so many ways…..and because of that, she is part of me, and always will be.

She wasn’t just my gram….she was, and still is, part of my soul.

The morning of her death, around 3am, I sat with Gram by myself. I was able to tell her how I felt. I was able to hold her hand and tell her just how much I love her, how grateful I am for her, how appreciative I am of everything she has done for me. I was able to tell her the things I will carry in my heart forever. She wasn’t awake, and she may not have heard it….but I know she felt it. She felt more than just my tears falling on her hand…..she felt my love. In that time, she felt the love that I should have been reminding her of each and every day. Although I could not be more grateful for the time to tell her, I did not like that I felt that sudden urge to make sure she KNEW how I felt.

And from now on, I will make sure that I don’t have to do that. I won’t ‘let life get in the way’ of that. I won’t look at my to-do list before I look at my love list. Your love list is your life……and the rest is just a filler in my opinion. Sure, we have to work, keep busy, and make some poor choices here and there…..but those things can and should work around our love list.

Tuesday evening I went to eat dinner with Gramps, and a friend of G & Gs was sitting at the table. He said 'In the end, you ask yourself.....did I live, and did I love? If you can say yes, and really mean it, there are no regrets. Take away the materials and that is all we really have. And there's a whole lot of good in those two things.'

I guess what I’m realizing is that those two things….life and love….they really are one. They work together…..and in fact, just like the rest of us, life needs love.

I don’t think the sting of her absence will ever go away……but I know that for something to hurt, you have to have experienced the opposite. For something to hurt real bad, it had to have been really wonderful…..and that’s exactly what life with Gram was. It was absolutely wonderful.

Gram, we love you so much. Still feels like you’re here, and the moments of remembering you have gone take my breath away each time. Luckily, one day we will realize you’re still here…..we will feel more peace than pain, and we will feel more joy than sorrow. We will feel your presence again, because you’ve never really left us. Souls don’t disconnect. Never have, and never will. We are so proud of and grateful for you. You were a blessing to everyone who knew you....and the imprint you've left on us is deeper than most. You are beautiful, wonderful, and everything in between. Rest well, Gram......you LIVED, you LOVED.....you did it. 

Love,

Kate

Timing

Timing just seems to screw with us.....day in and day out.....I, personally, tend to get caught up in the negatives of how things work out sometimes. I left 5 minutes late and now I have to wait for the train to pass........if I wasn't waiting on so and so all morning, then I would have all these things done....and the list goes on.

It's easy, most of the time, to focus on the negatives.......and don't get me wrong....sometimes when someone pops up and says 'just look at the positives'....I want to punch them in the face. Screw positives....sometimes things just suck.....someone is out to get me......I'm being taught another stupid lesson......negativity, negativity, negativity.

But today......I'm breathing in the positives. Truly breathing them in.....because the TRUTH is that timing is beyond us. We may know how to tell time, watch the seconds, minutes, and hours.....we know when it's been days, and when it's been weeks. But TIMING....as in the sequence of how things work out......that's beyond us and in the hands of someone much mightier than us. And no, I'm not talking about Chris Pine.....although I'm pretty sure he has impeccable timing with just about everything ;)

We not only have the ability to, but the LUXURY of trusting God with His timing. To be honest, 'trusting God's timing' sounds like a load of crap to me when I am needing to hear it the most. But, timing has smacked me in the face today. Flat out smacked me, humbled me, reminded me of His power, and of my inability to understand His plan.

Since leaving the country, I have worried about what I would miss out on back home. I have worried about the good things I'd miss, and the bad things I'd miss. I was aware that just because I moved away, the safety of those that I love isn't guaranteed.....despite how fair that sounds...

My mom woke me up this morning around 6am saying that we needed to leave the house immediately. My grandmother was found on her bathroom floor, bleeding from the fall, and hardly responding. She had a stroke....a massive massive stroke. When I arrived at the hospital, I was sure that her time was almost up. My grandmother is 91, just had a massive stroke, and seemed almost completely unresponsive.

As I walked over to her left side, which was the only side she could see out of.....she touched her necklace that I gave her this last mothers day, grabbed my hand, and kissed it.

Timing.

I have been feeling such a pull to get back to Sierra Leone lately....not sure why, but I've just been feeling the need to get back and start work again. And this isn't to say that this single, perfectly sweet moment was the ONLY purpose that I have extended my stay in the US.....twice. But I do absolutely believe that it is a very specific step along the path. I do believe that this moment was part of the story, and that it was supposed to be that way all along. Because it was perfect, and I needed it. Gram needed it.

I may have been annoyed in the process of getting to here....but that has gone completely out the window, all because of this moment. I got to watch my 94-year-old grandfather lean in to my grandmother, holding her hand, and tell her he loves her and that he is so proud of the life they have had. I got to watch my whole family pile in a room to stand beside our sweet Gram.

Timing.

We have the luxury of being part of a beautiful plan....not only a plan that is larger than us, but also larger than what we could possibly imagine WITHIN us. It honestly just brings me to such a humble place......I'm usually scared of things that are bigger than me (sharks, ships, bears, you get it)...but this, I'm simply amazed by.

A good friend once told me that our time on earth is like a dot on a page. I LOVE THAT. Not only because it's true, and reminds me of how much time we get to spend with God in comparison to our time on earth....but also because it reminds me of how we are literally a dot, and we have such perfect amazing timing given to us. We have SO much packed in to our little dot.

Our dot is crazy, beautiful, short, small, packed, dark, fun, and a whole giant mess at times. But I'm proud of mine.....because it was perfectly and beautifully handed to me.

I am beyond thankful for this time that I have had with my grandmother and my family. And, yes, I am still eager to get back to SL.....but I'm in no rush. It's not for me to worry about.....and it's certainly not for me to resist against. Because of the bigger plan, I got to sit here tonight, right next to my grandmother, reading to her, showing her pictures, and holding her hand. And tomorrow, I will be lucky and blessed to do the exact same thing.

Timing. It's beautiful, annoying, and perfect.

Kiss, love, and hug the ones who rest deep within your heart. Don't hide how you feel, no matter how stupid it sounds when it comes out. Embrace EVERY SINGLE DAY......it is part of a giant plan....one within you, and one within this crazy world. And this plan........well.....it was perfectly timed.

Brave

Being ‘brave’.

If I look brave up in the dictionary, it isn’t a word I would use to describe myself…. at all. In fact, I feel pretty opposite of ‘brave’ majority of the time. Yet, I have been called it several times since moving away from home.

So far, I have been scared out of my mind of different things…. fearful of things that aren’t even an issue yet….fearful of things that have already been fixed……fearful of what simply may happen….as in, have a 5% chance of happening…..

I’ve been scared of ridiculous things, and things that I laugh at later…. and I’m still scared of things…ridiculous things that friends usually say ‘Katie, come on!’ about…. or things that when I’m REALLY thinking deeply about them, the reality of them, I feel foolish.

I’ve clammed up when a stranger has asked for money. I have shied away from taking public transportation because something MIGHT happen! I have stayed home from doing things I want because of fear. At times, I have stayed in this little bubble of a compound because new is scary. And I have laid wide-awake in my bed because of ridiculous noises that sound odd…. but, again, are nothing! The life of the Croods doesn't seem so ridiculous sometimes ;)

So, brave? Hardly.

We all have fears. And as we grow up those fears either fall away, become even scarier, or we learn that some scary things will just exist alongside us, so we cope. Sometimes our fears are like a roller coaster…. going up and down and spinning all over the place. Death is a roller-coaster fear for me…. some days I’m all “HECK YEAH! Heaven is going to be AMAZING!” and then others…I’m more along the lines of “Heaven sounds excruciatingly boring…and I really am enjoying my time here…”…and some days I think over and over again about how I will eventually die…..??

Again, looking at the definition of bravery…. times like when I left for college, I thought I was being brave. Turns out, I was…. but that feeling of bravery dissipated as I settled in, knew that it was all okay, and did well. Bravery became a moment…a step off the ledge…. and a nudge forward despite the fear.

The specific act of stepping on to the plane this past November was a moment of ‘bravery’…and the rest has, again, been life.

I don’t want to discount moments of bravery…in fact, I am writing to express just the opposite. We are all brave. Living life is brave. There are scary, scary things out there…..there are sad things, exciting things, intangible things, big things, small things, and just because it’s good, doesn’t mean it doesn’t take bravery. It can be just a moment, or it can be many moments piled on to one another. It can be just a step on to a plane, or a journey of a lifetime.

To me, what bravery should mean is putting one foot in front of the other, day after day, no matter what. Some days those steps will be easy, and some days those steps will feel impossible…but it’s all brave. And it all starts with ONE STEP. We get to live a CRAZY life in our time on this world! We get to see things, inspiring things that are BEAUTIFULLY and PERFECTLY created for US!! We get to explore, learn, grow, make mistakes, fall apart, stand back up…. and we get to be brave. Every. Single. Day.

Being brave shouldn’t be the irregular compliment, or the rarity. It should be the normalcy…. and it should be something that we see in ourselves, and in those around us. It’s something that we should be proud of every day…. again, within our selves, our friends, and our family.

Living life is just something that happens, but we get to SEEK things, search for new things, find out new things about ourselves every day. We get to look for every crack in the earth that was planted by a God that intended a life of bravery for us. He intended for us to be strong and inspired by this world…inspired by what is already here, what we bring, and what is still to come.

As I’ve continued to settle in to my new home, I’ve shifted back and forth from what I’ve done that seems and feels brave, and what is just part of life. And most days, I truthfully don’t want to recognize the brave things….because compared to what others are doing in this world, they are just small things. But we ALL have a reason to celebrate our steps. They may seem small to others, and they will seem big to some as well. But they are your steps. Be inspired by the life you can lead, and what you can do with it! We are on this amazing playground, and we are only here for a short time.

This is my commitment to feeling brave every day. It may be a simple step to someone else, but it’s still mine, and it’s still a step.

Many blessings to each of you as you go through your own journey. Don’t let anyone else take the light that guides your steps away from you…. and be proud of the steps you’ve taken. Big or small.

One foot in front of the other is all it is…. and it’s brave.

I Tell God Tanke

A few weeks ago I spoke with my parents about the boys next door.

I talked with her about their living conditions, their clothes, their lifestyle, and their smiles. I told her about Doddy, who has polio. Daniel, who is still recovering from being hit by a motorcycle a few months ago, and Emmanuel who lives down the road, but comes to play with the boys almost every day. They wear the same outfits when they come to the church service at the center each week. Daniel’s is a men’s sea-foam green suit that he practically drowns in. 

But it’s a suit, and he’s handsome J

Doddy and Daniel’s mother is blind, but manages to get around their area very well. She knows exactly where the piles of rocks are, where the clotheslines hang, and where the giant hole is next to their house. She knows where the home starts, and where everything she has built up, stands. Their home has been made with hard work, pride, love, and by God's strength.

The boys play, all day, every day. They are either helping their mother, visiting/helping out at the center, or playing between walls of what was supposed to be a home but was never finished. It almost looks like a little maze made of stone, with dirt and gravel covering the ground. A few of us started to worry about what the boys would do as they turn from kids to teenagers, and teenagers to adults. No education, no basis for building a healthy life, and certainly no money.

                

We can fundraise and bring items to people endlessly…..there are always people wanting to help. But what happens when the supplies runs out? What happens when the supplies runs out and the boys don’t know how to acquire more, other than asking someone else to do it for them? What happens as they get older and still don’t have a job, or any idea of how to move forward?

Education. Education, Education.

I mentioned that I had explained the circumstance to my parents….my amazing, wonderful, courageous parents. They share the same philosophy that TEACHING and EDUCATING is truly the most important way to give. When the opportunity came to help the boys, they jumped. No hesitation, not really even time to think about it.

I had the privilege of being present today when Pastor Daniel explained to the three boys and the mother that they would be starting school on Monday. A public school just up the road is allowing the boys to enroll in the middle of the school year, which is very rare amongst schools here, and my parents have decided to pay for their schooling. I had the incredible opportunity to see the looks on these boys faces as they were fitted for their uniforms.

Daniel stated that he was so happy because he did not have to feel sad
anymore when he would see other kids head to school in the morning. 

Doddy said that he would try very very hard to do well, and that

he wanted to make my parents and his mother proud. 

And Emmanuel…sweet sweet Emmanuel. He just put his head down,
eyes filling up with tears, and said, “I tell God tanke”.

Daniel and Doddy’s mother stated that she has been so worried about the boys, and how they would eventually care for themselves. She stated that she felt that the gift of education is more than she herself has ever provided for the boys. I assured her that nothing replaces family, and the hard work she has put in to creating a wonderful life for them, but that she can rest assured that they would have the opportunity to grow and learn in a school setting.

I am truly honored to have such amazing parents, and be under the faithful hand of a loving God. They have not only been the rock for this entire move, but they continue to amaze and surprise me with their willingness to step forward and be a helping hand. I am so proud to call them my parents, and I am beyond excited for these boys to be able to start their educational journey.

Here are some pictures from today……it was truly beautiful. I am realizing that I cannot fully put this experience in to words…..because it felt SO full. It was rich in every way. It was a humbling experience that stopped me in my tracks, and forced me to absolutely realize God’s grace, sovereignty, power, and overwhelming love for EACH and EVERY one of His children.

We just have to say ‘okay’.

It Really Is a Merry Christmas...

Our house has always been the holiday catch-all....there is never just family there, always a friend or five, and it's always great. We always open packages up first thing in the morning, and then my parents make breakfast while my sister and I organize things, clean up the wrapping paper, watch TV, and usually make jokes about my parents in some way or another. The dog is always getting in to anything and everything, and the house stays full of amazing smells all day.

Christmas is Christmas, and it always has been. It has always been about family coming together, celebrating Jesus, giving gifts, making amazing food, eating way too many sugary treats, playing games, and laying around all day with family and friends.

As today approached, I knew that I would miss home, but I didn't realize that when I skyped my family in the morning, that I would wish I could smell the biscuits and gravy, or cuddle my dog while playing cards with my sister and her boyfriend. I instantly thought about all of the small things that I didn't really realize I had noticed before.

There were many things I missed, and many people I missed even more. But today, was a darn good Christmas.

I didn't wake up instantly thinking about the gifts I had under the tree. I didn't wake up and wonder what I would wear for the day, or worry about my hair or make-up. Let's make it clear that there are days where when I DEFINITELY need to protect the eye-sight of others...but Christmas Day wasn't one of those days....

Today, I was simply excited to just be surrounded by happy people, go to the Christmas morning service, and spend the day laughing, cooking, and making the day ONLY about the spirit of Christmas.

Don't get me wrong.....I love presents. They make me smile, and I LOVE giving gifts. Gift giving is my love language, and I won't ever be upset to receive something wrapped with a big, pretty bow....BUT, it was truly nice to have a day that is so commonly fluffed with materials to just simply be about the Holiday.....about Jesus, family, friends, laughs, messed-up schedules, messy floors, and love.

I am not intending this to be a judgement at all on the way people spend their holidays....because if I were in America, I would be perfectly happy with the good 'ol way we have always celebrated. I simply feel blessed to experience the holiday the way I did today. It was a new and beautiful perspective on the holiday, and will likely impact the way I celebrate Christmas in the future. I don't know what it will look like, but I know that today changed my Christmas.

Still at 9:00pm, you can hear parties, loud music, people celebrating, fireworks, good times, and there is still a lingering smell of amazing food. I can hear people laughing, and just a few minutes ago, some of the kids praying.

Today was different.
Today was hard.
Today was good.
Today was Christmas.

I hope each of you had a beautiful Christmas. Whatever it was surrounded around,  I hope it was filled with love, family, laughs, and good food. I hope each of you feel nourished and complete at the end of your holiday.....and that you are reminded, once more, of the beauty of a family.

Lots of love and many hugs to you all........MERRY CHRISTMAS!

The Big Grey Lingering Blob

Grey

When I try to focus on my thoughts and feelings lately, I see grey.

I have quickly turned to the next thing, or just sat and either prayed or cried. The people who have been here have seen my ugly cry more than once (with occasional snot)…..but I haven’t felt any different afterwards

I keep feeling like the next ‘let out’ will release something, or that when I write I will process through things. But I realized that I haven’t really been processing anything. Things make sense, and things have already changed since I got here…….but the feeling of lingering grey hasn't.

The feeling of everything coming together in to one giant blob hasn’t changed.

The nagging pain of how much I miss home hasn’t changed. I haven’t worked through the things I’ve seen, or prepared myself for what I haven’t seen yet that will shake me to my core.

I can’t get certain things out of my head, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.

I can’t stop thinking about two kids, one with polio, who sleep on dirt, smile the biggest when one of us throw a snack bar over the wall to them, have still greeted me with “How de body?” after being abused, and help out around the center moving water or cleaning just to be here with other kids.

I can’t get the vision out of my head of a man with a bleeding stab wound right after a fight downtown, who probably didn’t have money to get it looked at, and acted out of anger or out of the mentality that living here is a survival game most of the time.

I can’t stop thinking about how some people here are treated like pure dirt from people who have moved here from other countries, who make it known that they have deemed themselves superior to Sierra Leoneans. I would prefer to smack them.

I hate bats, and spiders, and all the other questionable things that tend to hang around....and no, I'm not getting 'used' to it. No one gets 'used' to those creepy things.

I cringe every time I see a scar on a child. Wondering where it came from, and was it painful? Did they cry and nobody heard it?

I hate watching my friend’s kids go to bed, knowing it’s one more night that they aren’t with their family, or any family for that matter.

And I HATE seeing the kids cry. I don’t care if it’s just because a toy got taken away from them….I hate it. They don’t deserve to feel sad, or alone, or afraid….ever. No child deserves it, and it’s painful. Their tears aren’t just ‘scraped knee’ tears…..they are tears that could’ve been lovingly wiped by parents, or tears that would fall on a teddy bear, warm, and smelling of home.

Despite the complaining, there are many things I love and will desperately miss about this place when I eventually return to the states.

I love the caregivers here. People who may not have the best circumstances at home, but come here, every day, sometimes for several days, and give their all to the kids. They wipe their tears, pick them up when they fall, and help them establish a strong faith.

I love seeing the kids smile, even when they are up to no good.

I love hearing the drunk rooster behind our house every morning....it truly makes me giggle every time.

I love that the kids are still innocent despite having to grow up so quickly, and see so many more good things than we do, as adults.

I cry at the sound of them worshiping all together, every time. The tears don’t always fall, but they are there.

I love when kids tell me “my mom/dad is coming back for me!”

I love that everyone helps one another……each time I leave the center I see someone helping another people. Be it across the street, carrying bags, giving a ride, carrying a child for someone else…..something. There is always something good to see.

I love watching people meet the kids for the first time. The way their world is instantly changed…..you can see in their eyes that they will never be the same.

I also love how the kids take about 5 minutes of first impression time, and then go right back to the ornery ways....

I am exactly where I am supposed to be….despite the feeling that all the colors are mushing together in to one big blob.

I’m sure it will fade, and I’m sure it won’t be soon. But that’s okay. A sweet friend reminded me yesterday that it is good to experience a little loneliness…..to really help me find myself. And although the idea of that SUCKS to me, I know it has to happen.

I know that the crummy feelings, without an escape, will draw me closer to myself and God…..and although I may not appreciate it in the moment and wish for some chocolate or wine to melt into…..it is good.

Grey may not be an enjoyable color, but eventually, it will be the most important one.