Tuesday, July 28, 2009

What have I learned in eight years?

I’ve learned that time does not heal all wounds. They scab over, but certain events, scents, sounds, days… rip the scab right off, and the wound is fresh again.

I’ve learned that sometimes “close” counts in more than horseshoes and hand grenades. Being close to the ones you love, even for a moment, etches their every fiber deeper into your soul-so you never forget. Close counts.

I’ve learned that little blessings can come in the form of a six foot four black man who sings in the choir with a bass voice that makes me want to turn around and shout, “Sing Beulah Land, now!”

One of the most important things I’ve learned, I try to pass onto the great-grandson you never knew here on Earth. I’ve learned that while actions may speak louder than words, sometimes famous last words are so very significant, and sometimes they’re all we have… I don’t even have to close my eyes to remember the moment. How I sat at the very top of your bed, leaning over onto the mattress, watching you breathe and singing to you the songs of old. How you shook away the hands clutching yours as you clawed at the mask on your face. How you struggled to push it over your nose and down your chin and almost snapped forcefully back into place. How you turned your head ever so slightly and cut your eyes over directly at me. Those eyes, the color of the sky when translucent clouds drift over, hazy with years of wisdom, work and love. How they fixed upon me as you reached your shaky arm into an abyss of nothingness to search for my hand. How your hand, scaled with time, squeezed mine with strength I thought you’d lost. How you cranked up your dusty box into gear so you could speak loud enough for those precious words to find their way into my ears and penetrate deep into my soul. The voice, so raspy and so clear uttered the final words I ever heard you speak. “You... will... never know...how much...I love you.” Nine words. Nine. Enough words to last me the rest of my life; until the day comes where you can bait my hook and we can fish in crystal together.

6 comments:

Tammy said...

Oh Angela how very touching!

Jocelyn said...

Tears... (while I'm at work!)

Very sweet.

Gram said...

He touched a lot of lives. It was ever obvious that I wasn't just one of a few who loved him dearly at the grave site. Great testimony, Ang.

grandpa said...

Why do you make me cry? Wonderful, touching and true words.

Grandma said...

Believe it or not, you can make us all cry. Very touching words.

Jocelyn said...

You've gone MIA on your blog. I miss you!!