It's truth when it is said, "time heals". We are three years away from what was the most difficult goodbye we've ever had to make. We have felt the stirrings of loss begin again. It starts a few weeks out from the anniversary of her passing. It can be compared closely with claustrophobia. You struggle and it only make things worse. It's better to stop, breathe, and remember. Remember her smile, her chuckle, her quiet and quirky ways. Remember her lemon chicken and baked potatoes, her salads with avocado sliced over them. Remember her chatting over a cup of tea. Remember her 500 pairs of reading glasses stashed in every possible nook or cranny. Her piles of books, Bible and highlighters always close by. Remember her silly hip bumps into her grown sons' sides, the playful punches on their arms. Remember her 3x5 cards, with verses and quotes in her van and around the house. Remember her sitting and reading to her grandchildren. Remember her sketch books and paints. Her absolute love for the Lord. She trusted Him with all of who she was, right up to the very end. Her courage and bravery to get over her fears and worries. To travel around the world, sharing the Love she herself had experienced. Remember.
The pain attached to losing her is dull. Steady but dull. It's no longer sharp, searing, or raw. I still catch myself having thoughts like "I need to ask Pam this or that" or see a striped tshirt in the store and think "Oh Pam would like that!"or "Pam would love this movie." Maybe those thoughts will end. Maybe not. All I know is I'm thankful for the time I had with her. I'm grateful that the things she helped deposit in me are still bearing fruit. I get to see her again. Her family will get to see her again. And for that, I'm beyond thankful.
