Friday Loss & Sunday Blessing
Late one January night, I sat beside the hospital bed with my right hand clasped over my mouth. Tears flowed. The moment I dreaded was imminent. My beloved grandmother fought for every single breath. This ending had been developing over the past week, so it wasn't a surprise, but now I wondered how I'd live without her. We'd always had a special bond. I never questioned her love for me, not even the one time we didn't speak for several months because we were angry at each other. I knew we'd make up soon enough. She wasn't perfect. Truthfully, she'd never be nominated for mother or grandmother of the year award. Yet she was my greatest cheerleader growing up and even as an adult. Tearfully, I watched my frail grandmother pause between shallow breaths. I prayed, "God don't let her suffer. Take her to live with you." About fifteen minutes later, she breathed her last. I left the room to find the rest of my family with my heart poundi