December 25th, 2017

So, here we are. Presents have been opened and the house is covered in gifts. The warmest (and fuzziest) blankets that we own are all over the couch. Christmas movies have been playing all day. And, of course, the lights on the tree have been glowing since Santa came at midnight.

I saw it coming. We knew it could be soon, but nobody had expected it to be before Christmas. The idea of fulfilling "Grandma's lasts" started about a month ago, and she knew it too. When we asked what she wanted for Christmas, she said she didn't need anything because she wouldn't be here long enough to use it. I always did hate it when she was right.

Fortunately, it is all in God's timing. I have been praying for her, for this to come gently. It came in a time where we had the chance to cherish days with her, but not untimely. I was home for Christmas. We were in the same town when we got the call, and that could not have been more perfect. It came when we had just spent precious time with dear family and two little faces that can light up a room just by walking in. It came when she knew she was loved, and she felt that, but the cancer took her anyway.

After they declared her, I left. I went back to the house that my grandma raised a family in and taught me how to choose ripe tomatoes from spoiled ones. It was that same house that I learned to love dogs, because she did too, and where my sass was encouraged by the woman who ran it. In that house is nothing but memories. All the sewing, hide-n-seek games, family Christmas dinners, sleepovers, late-night-breakfasts, and afternoons by the creek that I will not be able to get out of my mind. It was also a house that felt peaceful. There was no more pain, only the thought of the love that she had to share.

As I corralled her pup, I turned her oxygen tank off for the last time and folded her new blanket. It was purple and fuzzy, the one I picked out for her just two weeks before. I moved into the kitchen to feed the little monster and I started throwing away the mess that was left on the kitchen table from my mom and I sifting through papers to look for a medication sheet. I knocked off her cup, a purple knock-off Yeti, and I laughed at myself because I used to hate the color purple. It was the color of my bedroom when I was little, and I couldn't stand it for years. Today it brings me a different story, from many different events. I shut the front door to the house and wondered what would happen next. Of course, I will never know the answer to that question, but it was nice to imagine the possibilities.

When I think about it, I feel as if I somehow knew. The timing was not the best, but it WAS God's. I was at peace with it. She was no longer unhappy and uncomfortable, but she was probably dancing with her father and mocking me for something ignorant I had done that day. As I had packed my bags to come home just the day before, I remember setting out two dresses across my bed. One was planned to be worn the day of Christmas Eve to a church service, and the other dress was packed just because. I don't know why I packed it, to be honest, but I'm glad I did.

So, tomorrow morning as we say our final goodbyes to the overly-sassy, ever-loving grandmother that helped shape me into the person I am today, I will be wearing that dress that I packed. The purple, never worn dress, because she would love it. I will sing one last song for her, because she taught my mother to sing, and that gift has been passed on to me. And after, we will cherish the time we have together because it is ALL God's timing, and NOT ours.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

xoxo, Michelle

Romona Caraker, 12.22.2017.

"Snow is falling Christmas Eve
Lights are coming on up and down the street
The sound of carols fills the air
And people rushing home, families everywhere
Putting candles in the windows
Lights upon the tree 
But there's no laughter in this house 
Not like there used to be
There's just a million little memories 
That remind me you're not here 
It's just a different kind of Christmas this year 

In the evening fires glow
Dancing underneath the mistletoe
A letter left from Santa Clause 
Won't be the same this year in this house because 

There's one less place set at the table
One less gift under the tree
And a brand new way to take their place inside of me
I'm unwrapping all these memories
Fighting back the tears
It's just a different kind of Christmas this year

There's voices in the driveway
Families right outside the door
And we'll try to make this Christmas like the ones we've had before
As we gather round the table, I see joy on every face
And I realize what's still alive is the legacy you made
​
It's time to put the candles in the windows, the lights upon the tree
It's time to fill this house with laughter like it used to be
Just because you're up in heaven, doesn't mean you're not near
It's just a different kind of Christmas
It's just a different kind of Christmas this year"