twenty eight

my first real experience with death was the death of my grandmother, gram. i was eight and my little sister was two. i was deeply saddened by her death, but what i remember most was being mad. i was mad at god for taking her away. i was especially mad because i knew my sister wouldn’t remember gram, and i didn’t think that was fair.

so, as we were driving home after her funeral, i took out a piece of paper and wrote a short note to god. it said,

god, why did you have to take my grandmom? you should have waited until my sister was older. make sure that she watches over my family. love, heather. p.s. make sure you answer my question.

i remember folding the note and tossing it into the back of the car. i figured it would get to god somehow.

little did i know, my parents found the note and they shared it with my uncle, who happened to be a catholic priest. he also happened to write a weekly column in the catholic review. there, he answered my question to god.

my parents shared his response with me. at eight, i don’t know how much of it i understood, but i’ve looked back at it over the years and found some comfort in my uncle’s words. the last two paragraphs were always my favourite.

perhaps, the best answer to your question is to do what your father did with you. you went out one night and looked up at the stars and found a new star. that was gram. you knew gram was with god.

and so she is. gram is with god in spirit and with us in spirit. and when you and i die, and pass through the wall of death and come face to face with god, we will discover something beautiful. when we look at god, we will be able to see gram.


1 Comment

I think I’m more fearful of how my children are going to react when my Mom passes someday, than I am of my own reaction (ok, maybe denial, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it…).

I love the idea of looking for a star, and reminding them that it’s their Grammy, and she’s with God, and that we’ll see her someday.

Posted by heartatpreschool (Kari) on 4 January 2009 @ 2am

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