I just found this in my 'unpublished posts'. I think I want to share it.
This last Sunday I was over at my BEST friends house helping her family set up Christmas decorations. I love this family, they are beautiful inside and out. They accept me as one of their own. Korby/mama always makes enough food for my fat butt to scarf down too. I've been lucky enough to help Korby, Daulton, and Shea set up their Christmas the past 3 years. I always think it's fun to sit in on family get togethers, seeing how their family does things compared to how my family does it. These girls have got a certain way of doing things, and good riddance if you set Santa in the wrong corner. They become BEASTS! :)
Despite all their quirky traditions, I always walk away feeling... touched. This year, midway into setting up, all four of us girls plopped down on the carpet and just talked. I was slightly in a hurry so I wasn't trying too hard to participate in the conversation, so when the time came, it would be easier for me to slip away to game night with the Riksters.
After about seven minutes, I had to indulge. Each Christmas Korby purchases her girls an ornament. Their ornaments are filled with stories of who, what, when, where, and WHY. Daulton&Shea would pull an ornament out and they'd go on&ON of why that one little ornament was so significant. (I really liked that).
On the very front of their tree is a simple Christmas announcement. It is a picture of Grandpa Jerry&Grandma Susan. Some people might laugh at hanging an announcement on a tree, but this small piece of paper gives the exact meaning of family.
Five years ago now, Korby lost her mother to breast cancer. We started talking about Grandma Susan. How great of a lady she was, how she illuminated a room, and how she loved. Grandma Susan taught Dolly how to play the piano (which she does grandly). She loved cousin Ashley, even when the whole family thought she was wrong. She loved Korby&Ted, even when they decided to marry at a young age. She supported Shea through all of her athletics. She seemed to just have done everything with love.
As I sit and listen to those stories, I always get a tear in my eye. I know how hard death is. I know how it is a deep, dark, black hole. It leeches onto your heart, pulling everything good from your being. Death can consume the living. And it's not something easily let go. You harbor the struggles, the sadness, the guilt. And as you realize how much time has passed, how many Christmas' you've had in-between, how many birthdays and important events have passed, it takes your breath away.
Despite all the time that's passed, the pain remains. The love remains. The memories remain. As dark as death may be, the light of my memories are brighter than any shadow cast. I love you Pennington girls. I wish I would have known Grandma Susan, but from what I know of her, I KNOW she'd be proud.
Grandma Susan: Thank you for blessing my life with these beautiful girls.
I wish I would have found these words in that moment. But I guess I'm saying it now. To anyone who has 'been there too'.
