August

I dread August.  Sometimes I wish we could just skip August all together.  Especially August 6th.

I'll never forget that day, August 6, 1994.  I was at a Ladies Breakfast with the women in my church when the waitress told me I had a phone call.  As I was walking out of the room we were eating in I saw my mom running up to me.  I will never, ever, forget the look of horror she had on her face.  I knew instinctively that whatever she was about to tell me, I didn't want to hear.

"Christy's dead", she said.   Surely I didn't hear that right.  "What?", I asked.  She repeated, "Christy's dead.  She drowned."  And then I screamed.  In that instant our lives were changed forever.

Christy was my granddaughter.  She was born on March 11, 1992.  Her mommy was only 16 years old when she was born and still a child herself.  Now my young, 18 year old daughter was going to have to do something even I could not do, she had to bury her child.

I've grown a lot since that day.  I've welcomed many more grandchildren into the world and have had the great privilege of being there as most of them were born.  In that time I've had to say goodbye to the most wonderful grandfather in the world and I've watched my children grow up and start families of their own.  But not a day goes by that I don't miss Christy and wonder what could have been.

Most of the time when I think about Christy I think about the little two year old who was always wearing my shoes or reciting "No More Monkeys Sitting On the Bed!" or sharing a sandwich with Papa or a multitude of other, wonderful memories.  But come the end of July I go back to that day at the restaurant and then to the ER and that little room they took us to.  I remember the chaplain coming in and my daughter telling him to leave.  And then I remember going back to the bed where Christy laid.  And watching my daughter as she held her for the last time.  And I wish I could shake those memories from my mind.  I wish I could erase that day from the calendar.  But I can't.

Life goes on, children are born, older relatives pass on, marriages take place, some end in divorce, some work difficulties out and go on.  There are times of laughter, times of sadness.  But life most definitely goes on.

Still...I hate August. 

But God, in His most awesome grace, reminds me that good things happen in August as well.  My nephew will turn 26 in August.  And my newest granddaughter will be born in August.  In our sorrow, God brings us joy.  He helps us through the darkest hours.  Joy does come in the morning!

Psalm 30:5
For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime! Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.

Be blessed,
 
Sue