Dear Granny,
I miss you a whole lot. I don’t think I realized how much I missed you until now. Memaw passed away last week and experiencing another death in the family took me straight back to my last day with you.
July 26, 2019
I woke up in the extra bedroom down the hall in your house, my dad and I had come to stay with you when we found out you weren‘t doing well. I still had so much hope and thought there was no way you could die—you were too strong for that. While everyone else’s spirits declined and the grieving process began for many, I spent all day by your side. That morning, you pulled me into a hug from your hospice bed and said “Brianne, you are so beautiful and I am so proud of who you’re becoming. I love you.” I thought this was just another one of your perfectly-timed affirmations. I had no idea then how tightly I’d cling onto those words for the rest of my life.
The day went on and you weren’t talking anymore, but I thought to myself, “she’s just tired guys, it’s going to be fine.” As more people showed up at the house, the goodbyes from everyone brought a wave of fear each time, which I pushed down by reminding myself that you were way too strong to die. I couldn’t lose you yet so that wasn’t going to happen.
Family members began to notice different things-
“Her breathing is getting more labored.”
”Her feet are getting really cold.”
”She’s losing the color in her face.”
I ignored it all though. All I could do was hold your hand, look at your closed eyes, and replay so many of my sweet memories with you from the past 16 years. I thought about playing cards around the table with (many) friendly reminders from you of what Jesus said about cheating. I thought about making pies with you the day before every Thanksgiving and always getting an extra chocolate meringue for myself in return. I thought about sitting and hearing you tell me the Easter story with eyes full of tears as you tried to explain your gratitude for what Jesus did that day. I thought about going to church with you and hearing you always finding a way to tell people exactly what they needed to hear somehow.
With these memories flashing through my mind, I stood beside your bed, holding one of your hands in both of mine. Everyone was on the other side of the room talking, but I was looking at you. All of a sudden, for the first time in hours, you squeezed my hand. You turned your head to the side, opened your eyes, and looked at me with all the love in the world. Time froze.
Well, for me it did. I motioned to my mom and as soon as she saw the tears running down my face, everyone hurried over. From that point, I don’t remember much. Someone grabbed my hands from yours and held me. I got led out of the room as nurses were coming in and so much was happening.
I will never forget the amount of love I felt the last time you looked at me. I felt so known by you (we were so similar and because of that you were one of the only people that always knew where I was coming from, even when I said the wrong things). You always saw me when it felt like no one else did, even up to your last seconds alive. I’ll never forget the way you loved me, and how that love taught me about my heavenly Father’s love.
There are so many things you taught me from submission to spiritual disciplines to how to make homemade pancakes in less than 5 minutes (with no measuring tools, of course). But—the most valuable thing you taught me that I’ll carry for the rest of my life is to love deeply. Love the Lord, others, and even myself to a point of no return. Give away all that I have in order to become even an OUNCE more like Christ.
I wish I could call you and tell you every detail about what my life looks like now. I never got to tell you about the World Race, but I know you would’ve probably asked if you could go too! I wish I could tell you about my big family of 50 that I get to wake up and love every day. I wish I could tell you about how much freedom the Lord is teaching me through the physical abandonment of my comforts. I wish I could tell you about the worship and the visions and the healings and the presence of the Holy Spirit that is so thick over this campus that I get to call home for a while.
I love you so much and I miss you every single day. I will never forget the things you taught me, the examples you set for me, and the Savior that you loved with everything you had.
Love,
Bree
[ This is a letter that I wrote to my grandmother that passed away two years ago. The Lord has been teaching me so much about grief and how to process it, and there is so much healing that I’m experiencing! Thank you so much for reading this blog and walking this journey with me. Also, a special thanks to my squad/family here in Georgia for showing me so much love and grace as I’m walking through this process of healing! ]
[ my grandma on the left! ]
[ a blog comment from one of my Granny’s sweet friends ]
Thank you for sharing such a difficult moment. You can see through your words, the honor you carried for her.
the sweetest person i know. feels like i got to meet your grandma through this blog. so proud of you. and i’m sure she’s even prouder. love u bree :’)
bree girl. i am beyond proud of you. thank you for sharing this sweet letter to your sweet granny
I love you. I know it is not the same but I miss Granny too. You are so lucky that you had such a wonderful, kind, strong woman as a role model. May her memory be a blessing.
Sending so much love to you sweet Bree. I am beyond proud of you!
I love every word of this post. With tears streaming down my face, I felt all the emotion that you beautifully turned to words. Granny was a special woman because she served an awesome God with every breath in her body. I love that you are following in her footsteps, sweet Bree!
How beautiful to honor the Lord by sharing your love for what your grandmother led in her life. Thank you so much for sharing your grief and your joy!
Bree, I am so sorry for your losses, but thankful for the way you have and are learning to process grief. Sounds like you have been handed an amazing legacy of faith in our heavenly Father. I, too, was actually holding my grandmother in my arms when she took her last breath on this earth. I was about your age, and the memory of it seems like it was yesterday. I’m now caring for her daughter – my aunt – who is now the elderly one in declining health both mentally and physically. Both these women have loved me well, and it is my honor to care for this aging aunt who has been a part of my life and poured into me for over 50 years.
Treasure those sweet memories and cherish the family God placed you in. Seems in this season you get a double portion of family – yours of origin and upbringing, and your new World Race family. Thanks for sharing your sweet letter, the memories, the picture, the way grief is often so full of sadness and joy and gratitude all at the same time. You’ve reminded me to embrace today and make the most of every moment the Lord gives us with those we love.