I have never been good with spoken words. I stumble easily. I would almost always rather be the observer in the room than the speaker. I have had several people say my words compliment me and I have a way with them. That's usually because it a formal conversation and words that come from the heart at moments someone needs them more than I do. It's those times I do believe I am talking to someone that truly wants to hear what I have to say; someone that enjoys my words and quite frankly, enjoys me.
Now, if you ask me if I am always prepared for informal conversations, you better ask me days before so I have considered a well thought out plan and outlined my speech and presentation with highlighted and bolded sections to create the greatest story to be told. Hint: why I love to write and act.
I cant think fast and don't want to. I have to speak truth. On the spot conversations are not always speaking the truth. It's speaking what others want to hear and doesn't always end up the way you want the conversation to go. Which makes me think of those times that I have had people say I am quiet, that I seem lost in thought and separated from others. That's usually because I am. Its my time of observation. And most likely if a person perceives this side of me, that person should know that does not define me. If they don't, then maybe they do not even know me at all.
There was one person in my life that always seem to know me well...she would even make me see myself greater than I could ever see myself. She was my Mamaw.
When my Mamaw passed, I lost a piece of me.
I lost words for a long time.
I lost my laughter and smile.
I cried more than I think I have ever cried before. I spent days going from keeping myself busy, to being curled up in a corner bawling my eyes out. I didn't want to talk about it to anyone. I didn't want to think of her as dead. I found myself digging through piles of cards I kept through the years just to read her words and imagine her speaking them to me. I would desire to sit alone remembering how proud she was of me and how much she believed I was a good wife and mother and person. To be honest, she was the one person in my life I knew I could rely on to lift me up. She knew about all my brokenness. She knew what made me happy and what made me sad. And because of that, she knew what to tell me to make me feel better about myself, because let's face it, sometimes I feel nothing of myself.
Sometimes I feel like I am all alone in the world.
I know that sounds crazy, because you may not know that about me, but it is something I have dealt with for a long time; emptiness, loneliness, not feeling complete, depressed, anxious, not good enough. I think we all feel like that sometimes in our life, which is normal. But, I think I feel that way more often than I should.
I remember when I was busy and I would get that random phone call from my grandmother. I was not always ready and able to answer, but at the moment of thinking that, I remember telling myself, you will regret it if you do not answer. So, I would answer. When those conversations ended, I was always glad I did not ignore them. She didn't have to hear my story, my busy day, my thoughts, my feelings...she knew them. She just would call letting me know she was there for me. She would end by saying, "Give the girls a hug for me, your'e such a good mom, you do so much for them, they are lucky to have you." Let me tell you, as a mother, or step mother, that is the best thing anyone can tell you. You know you will never hear it enough from your own kids. Because let's face it, all they see is what you do wrong, when you say no, when you pick and nag, when you critique them, advise them or try to fix them. This I know, is all normal and they will learn to appreciate it when they are older, but hearing it from my grandmother was enough. It just was enough. I am going to miss that.
I am going to miss a lot.
I'll miss her hugs, her crooked smile, her squinty eyes, her talks, her traditions, her opening up her Christmas presents, her repeating her conversations.
I will miss her smell, her laugh, her encouragement.
I am going to miss saying, "We are going to Mamaw and Papaw's."
I am going to miss telling others I have a grandmother still alive.
I am going to miss buying her a card or taking the girls to buy her little surprises, or adding her to my Christmas list.
I am going to miss her spaghetti, gravy, cookie dough, and eggs.
I am going to miss absolutely everything about her and I know.....
I know......that all those things I want today, I cant have anymore.
I get that.
I understood that the moment I heard the words, she is gone by my mother.
I understood that while I laid on the porch sobbing uncontrollably with my guitar by my side, I would never see her again.
I understood.
But I needed to mourn.
I needed to be left alone.
I needed to be alone.
Eventually...
the day came when I did not cry.
The day came where I smiled a real smile.
The day came when I could think of her without being sad, sort of.
She never really left.
She actually comes around still.
She sings to me through the birds.
She comforts me with the wind.
She visits me when a small animal finds its way on my porch rail or yard.
She is there with my Papaw throughout the house in photos and memories.
She is the smell I find in her laundry room.
She is blanket that was gifted to me for Christmas
She is the stack of cards in my cabinet.
She is the little bears in the chest.
She is the with me in all those places.
Even in the tears I still shed for her.
But where I find her most, is in my songs.
Most of you may not know, but my guitar was in my hand when I learned she passed. I was finally picking it up again after a break and using it to help me worship during quarantine. But, even after she passed that desire to sing and play again became passion. She was always someone that I sang with and I found myself wanting to keep her alive through my singing. I have a desire now to finally bring my 'behind closed doors songs' out into the world. Since she passed, I have written more songs, I have shared more of my songs, I have stepped out of my comfort zone and played and sang together in front of people. It was something I thought I would never do. I really never had the desire to do. My desire to sing and play now has nothing to do with me being 'famous 'or getting 'attention.' I am not sure I am even good enough to ever be foreseen as a talented artist. But, I don't do it to be seen, I do it to be heard. Because, I believe... God wants me to. I believe he wants me to share my ministry with others through something I feel connected to more than anything in the world, and that is music. My goal in life is to be a beckon of light through my music; share my story and love for God through my words. I know my grandmother made music special to me, and I want to make music special to others, even my own children and grandchildren. The other day, my daughter, Braelyn, was writing lyrics to a song for me for Mother's Day. One of the lines made me smile so big. It said, "And in her song, God's magic flows." She continued on by saying you could not break the heart between me and God that our love was too strong. It felt so good to know her words in music, was about my music for God.
Singing is a careful plan, it takes preparation and time, and it takes prayer to say the least. It takes a heart and soul that knows the path it needs to lead. It takes those spoken words that I struggle to deliver...and magically creates a story that can help me lead others to Christ.
As I always say, silence speaks. It speaks now more than ever. Maybe this isn't so much my story, but a way to tell His story?
Or maybe it's, our story. Either way, I hope you are ready to listen.
This blog was dedicated to my Mamaw, Edna Hall. One of the last times she was able to fully listen to me and communicate back, was when I read to her my posts. If she only knew the impact she has on them now......
Comments