Until we meet again

 

“When I don’t know what else to do, I sing to The Lord.” That’s what my grandmother always used to say. I don’t even have to close my eyes to see her in a memory, sometimes content, sometimes choked with tears, working or meditating, always singing. Last night I was trying to fall asleep, and I just had this vivid memory of us working in the field. I was just a child, and she was quite a way in front of me with her task. I remember how uncomfortable it all was, the sun scorching hot, and I had a rebellious moment when I wanted to be anywhere else and then I looked at her. She was singing a song I’ve heard her sing a million times and she had this look on her face as if she was somewhere else, at peace and happy. I didn’t understand where she was when she had that faraway look on her face, but I remember thinking that I’d follow her to wherever she was going. When I was little, I was jealous of her God that always had all her attention. Part of me loved Him because I knew He had her heart, and I wanted to be part of that too. I wanted to be able to sing to Him like she did. She had this hymnal she opened every morning and evening after finishing reading her Scripture and she was singing from it. I got jealous one day so while she knelt down to pray, I took the hymnal and scribbled in it. For no other reason other than I wanted a part of me in her treasured possession. Of course, I got punished but for the rest of my life, whenever she opened the book she reminded me, at first resentful and then smiling, “see, this is your doing”. In 2015, while visiting her, she said the same thing to me, so I took a pen and I said, ‘write down that you’re leaving me this book and your Bible’ she laughed thinking I was joking, but then proceeded to fulfil my request. She said, ‘you don’t even like the old hymns’

, I said, ‘I love you; I don’t need to love the songs. I love the one that sings them’.  On the 10^th of September, last year, she died. I lost both my parents 2 years apart but losing her made me feel well and truly orphan in this world. Maybe one day I’ll be able to talk about her without feeling like my raw skin is being pulled over broken glass. I confess I’m not there yet. Anyway, last night, while pondering what to do with all these feelings inside me, I remembered her singing. I’ve began listening to a song and it helped. I’m not mourning as those that have no hope, I know she went to be with The Lord, and I know I’ll see her again, I just dread all the time in between now and then.

 

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." - Revelation 21:4