Fog of Awareness

I'm living in a fog lately.  

So many firsts...so many lasts to consider.  The last hug.  The last laugh.  The last time sleeping in her own bed.  The last Sheboygan steak sandwich.  The last prayer.

The first face to face conversation with Jesus himself.  The first time seeing "Daddy" in some 25 years.  The first time without pain or sorrow or tears of any sort.

The first Christmas without the center of our family.  Grandma.

This fog of mine is sort of an inverse-fog.  I usually think of a fog as something that keeps me from seeing reality.  But now...I'm in this place where it seems that I'm seeing reality for the first time.  It's a fog of awareness...highlighting true reality and settling an opaque mist over what I typically think of as "real life".

I look at my babies and I practically see them grow before my eyes.  I think of the 6 small baby pictures my Grandma has hanging on her bedroom wall of her children.  And now those children gather around her bed to pray for a peaceful and painless final journey.  Do they feel like they're being orphaned?  No longer someone's baby...

I watch the world bustle about trying to earn a buck.  Get the list done.  Be there on time.  Deal with their frustration.  I want to scream.  Don't they see how short life is?  Don't they know that they could be dead by the end of the day?

Morbid.  Real.

The magazine cover screams "LOSE 10 LBS FAST!" and "Gorgeous, Sexy Hair Without the Fuss".  Honestly.  Who gives a shit?

I straighten up after dinner, and realize that something isn't quite right.  What is it?  Oh yes.  The sour cream goes in the refrigerator, not the pantry.  

I settle into the couch for an evening of relaxing and conversation with my best friend and greatest love.  I'd normally be distracted by my to do list or the next day's schedule.  But now, all I want is to feel life.  I wiggle my way next to him and settle my head onto his chest.  "What's this?" he wonders aloud.  I just want to hear his heart beating.  This man of mine.  This amazing gift...God gave me this perfect partner and love.  The rest of me.

I wonder, did Grandma ever do the same with "Daddy"?

What am I doing with my life?  Am I doing anything that matters?  I think silly thoughts about trying to grow a successful business.  Get out of debt.  Organize and decorate the house.  Get the chores done.  Get dinner on the table.  Lose weight.  Find the perfect haircut.  Secure a patent on that idea.

What is Grandma thinking right now?  What goes through her head as she wakes up in a hospital bed?  Does she feel the end?  Or is it the beginning she feels?  Is she afraid?  Excited?  Peaceful?  Mournful?  

I have this crazy desire to be sitting next to Grandma right now....holding her hand...singing "Amazing Grace".  She's still spunky enough to tell me, "That's a nice song.  Don't quit your day job though!"  We'd laugh, she'd sleep, I'd cry.

This strange place in my head...I'm here, but there.  Trying to function here...cherish every moment, while also wondering what she's going through.

Praying, "Please Lord.  If this is her time, please take her quickly and painlessly.  In fact, maybe you could just come back now and get us all?  Goodbye is just too hard."