24 hours ago I was rushing to the hospital to kiss my grandma goodbye.
One thought keeps coming back to mind every time it is quiet. Standing at her bedside, I watched her take her last breath. We gathered around her and a priesthood blessing was given. And when the blessing was done, she was gone. Her heart rate had gone from around 50 to 0 in a matter of about two minutes. It was so peaceful, so serene. And it happened effortlessly and quickly.
She was gone.
And I knew again how close that world to where she has gone is. I felt an awareness that none of us are alone. A gentle prompting that life is fragile -- we come beautifully and simply into the world -- and can, just as easily -- go back. A reminder to not take the individuals in my life for granted -- and particularly to hold family close. It has been very comforting to me. In a way, I feel surrounded by all of these people, knowing it is just a threshold she has crossed and that is all.
I sat in the dark in Mia's room last night, nursing her. I returned again to those quiet moments in the hospital. And I thought about trees. Tall, beautiful, mature, majestic trees. I imagined the trees lining my life's path. Full of strength, wisdom, beauty. Deep roots. Trees where I have rested in their shade, marveled at their beauty, received some of their wisdom's sap.
Grandma was one of my trees, a pillar on my personal path.
I wondered if she really knew how much her personality, her spirit meant to me -- how much she touched me. I found myself questioning if she knew how important she was to me, even though I've told her. But still I wondered. And then I felt another sweet prompting, and it was this: Of course she knows. She has parents and grandparents of her own, and other people who were her pillars. She knows about sweet ties -- deeper and stronger even than the blood that binds us together. It is a connecting of spirit and heart.
I love her so.