the harder parts of life...
There were times in my life when I was younger that I witnessed pain of those that I loved. I was young when my Grandpa Williams had heart and aneurysm surgeries. I was not that old when my Grandma Flo had gallbladder surgery. There were a few other times when ones that I loved were admitted to a hospital and I was there in the waiting room along with my family. Now, when I was younger I played cards with my brother, talked with my cousin, and knew this wasn't a happy time. I didn't quite grasp the exact seriousness of the situation. I wasn't an adult yet. The overly emotional side of myself had not quite formed. When you're a kid, you are unaware of so many things. You sit around and think you know everything. You think you know what it is like to really hurt. You think you have experienced the harder parts of your life when something doesn't quite go your way. If only you knew that the real hard parts of life were still in front of you. The harder parts of life come much later. The harder parts of life are not when you are directly suffering - but when those you love - hurt, suffer, and you see it.
A few years back I was introduced to the beginning of the harder parts of life when my father had a heart attack. He was admitted to the hospital and had surgery. This was the first jolt to my system when it came to aching in my heart for the suffering of someone I loved. This was one of the scariest moments of my life. Such an unexpected event as this to happen to my number one guy! I truly don't know what I would do without my dad. So to see my dad hurt in such a way tore away at my heart. I found myself bursting into tears at the drop of the hat just because I was helpless to him while he was in such pain.
In the past year I have lost my grandparents on my Williams side. If you are an avid reader of my blog, you know that I was extremely close to them, and that this is still a situation that I am hurt over. The only other grandparent I have lost was my great Grandma Eva.
I still see a missing spot at our table when we have family get-togethers where Grandma Eva would sit. When my dad's garden is in full bloom, I see her sitting on a stool picking green beans. I hear her saying, what a great meal, isn't this a beautiful day, how nice to spend the day with family- and many other positive comments about a visit together. When I am in Carmi, I look up the hill, and remember walking up those big, crooked concrete steps to her back door - swinging that heavy, creaky door open to walk in the kitchen and smell vegetables cooking on the stove. I remember walking down the hill with her. I can still remember playing with dolls, coloring, and sitting at a tiny kids table in my room while the other adults were in the living room. I still miss Grandma Eva...alot.
I have spoken in great detail about the many things I miss about my Williams grandparents. Their passing was so different for me. They were such a part of my every day life growing up as a kid, that it seems like a piece of my life is missing here in Carrier Mills. Just knowing they aren't on Main Street anymore causes an unsettling feeling inside of me. I was just talking with my brother this week about them. He spoke of dreaming about them and becoming sad when he woke up and realized they were no longer with us. I have done this same thing. I still hurt.
But the harder part of life is not just that I still hurt. The harder part is that my parents hurt. I can see it in my dad's eyes when something reminds him of his parents. When we reminisce about good times in the past. I see his hurt and realize, I am upset about loosing my grandparents - but dad lost his parents. I try to relate and realize how lost I would be without my parents. I then get that ache in my chest for the hurt that my dad is going through. Here I am - helpless again.
My mother is about to see her father put into the nursing home. When we talk about it, we just talk briefly. To talk more about it, makes it hurt more. She is sitting around constantly thinking about her parents and hurting for them. Here I am again, aching in my heart for the pain my mother goes through. I want to take it all away, but I can't.
Right now I am in a position where I wish I could be more than I am for my parents. I want to be exactly what they need, when they need it. I want to be a miracle worker. I want to put my hand on their shoulders and melt the pain away. I want to wave my hand in front of their face and let them not think of the things that hurt them. I want to help them, as they have helped me my entire life. The only thing I can think to do, is be here. Be as present as I can. This is the harder part of life. Being helpless to those you really want to help. Hurting for those you love as they suffer. Praying each night for them, and being with them the next day. All I can really do is pray. The Lord will do his will, and whether or not I understand it - it will be for the best. I am struggling right now dealing with the harder part of life. It doesn't take much for that ache to generate in my chest and I know my heart is hurting for my parents, as well as myself. I would ask for my friends to pray for my family. I know that prayer causes a kind of healing that nothing else can top.
A few years back I was introduced to the beginning of the harder parts of life when my father had a heart attack. He was admitted to the hospital and had surgery. This was the first jolt to my system when it came to aching in my heart for the suffering of someone I loved. This was one of the scariest moments of my life. Such an unexpected event as this to happen to my number one guy! I truly don't know what I would do without my dad. So to see my dad hurt in such a way tore away at my heart. I found myself bursting into tears at the drop of the hat just because I was helpless to him while he was in such pain.
In the past year I have lost my grandparents on my Williams side. If you are an avid reader of my blog, you know that I was extremely close to them, and that this is still a situation that I am hurt over. The only other grandparent I have lost was my great Grandma Eva.
I still see a missing spot at our table when we have family get-togethers where Grandma Eva would sit. When my dad's garden is in full bloom, I see her sitting on a stool picking green beans. I hear her saying, what a great meal, isn't this a beautiful day, how nice to spend the day with family- and many other positive comments about a visit together. When I am in Carmi, I look up the hill, and remember walking up those big, crooked concrete steps to her back door - swinging that heavy, creaky door open to walk in the kitchen and smell vegetables cooking on the stove. I remember walking down the hill with her. I can still remember playing with dolls, coloring, and sitting at a tiny kids table in my room while the other adults were in the living room. I still miss Grandma Eva...alot.
I have spoken in great detail about the many things I miss about my Williams grandparents. Their passing was so different for me. They were such a part of my every day life growing up as a kid, that it seems like a piece of my life is missing here in Carrier Mills. Just knowing they aren't on Main Street anymore causes an unsettling feeling inside of me. I was just talking with my brother this week about them. He spoke of dreaming about them and becoming sad when he woke up and realized they were no longer with us. I have done this same thing. I still hurt.
But the harder part of life is not just that I still hurt. The harder part is that my parents hurt. I can see it in my dad's eyes when something reminds him of his parents. When we reminisce about good times in the past. I see his hurt and realize, I am upset about loosing my grandparents - but dad lost his parents. I try to relate and realize how lost I would be without my parents. I then get that ache in my chest for the hurt that my dad is going through. Here I am - helpless again.
My mother is about to see her father put into the nursing home. When we talk about it, we just talk briefly. To talk more about it, makes it hurt more. She is sitting around constantly thinking about her parents and hurting for them. Here I am again, aching in my heart for the pain my mother goes through. I want to take it all away, but I can't.
Right now I am in a position where I wish I could be more than I am for my parents. I want to be exactly what they need, when they need it. I want to be a miracle worker. I want to put my hand on their shoulders and melt the pain away. I want to wave my hand in front of their face and let them not think of the things that hurt them. I want to help them, as they have helped me my entire life. The only thing I can think to do, is be here. Be as present as I can. This is the harder part of life. Being helpless to those you really want to help. Hurting for those you love as they suffer. Praying each night for them, and being with them the next day. All I can really do is pray. The Lord will do his will, and whether or not I understand it - it will be for the best. I am struggling right now dealing with the harder part of life. It doesn't take much for that ache to generate in my chest and I know my heart is hurting for my parents, as well as myself. I would ask for my friends to pray for my family. I know that prayer causes a kind of healing that nothing else can top.
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