Remembering Our Grandchildren: Embracing Those Who Love Us & Reveling in Solitude

We’re having a snow day, a blustery stay-at-home day.

Oh, how I love being cocooned in my home with the many and varied projects patiently waiting my attention.  This week is the perfect time to be sheltered and blanketed by the most welcome snowfall.  It is the week that my Kitty Rose died, five years ago.  From January 18 through January 25, mourning rotates back into grieving, a time I consciously relive the events that led to my granddaughter’s death.

Thanks to Mother Nature, my special memories of Kitty are today uninterrupted by babysitting duty, unwanted phone calls, volunteer requests and obligations.  Today is quiet.  It is a day to spend with her at the front of my thoughts.  She is my focus. 

If you ask me what I did five days, weeks or months ago, it would take a few minutes – and probably longer - to recall.  Ask me what I did five years ago to the day, it’s unforgettable.  I filtered through, copied and printed photos for picture boards to use at Kitty’s visitation and funeral.  I shopped at the local craft store for embellishments, poster board, special paper and glue.  I started putting those boards together, a labor of intense love and loss that kept my hands busy for two days.  I manipulated a picture of Kitty into an engraved, sterling key chain for son-in-law.  Not one detail of January 22, 2013 is forgotten.

For the past three years, I’ve taken this week to spend alone in memory with the grandchild I lost.  This year has been different - in a good way, but not the contemplative, quiet manner I typically enjoy.  This year, my daughter, Mandy, published a book.  It is a children’s book, written with the intention of helping other young children deal with the loss of a sibling.  She wrote it four years ago to help my granddaughter, Belle, understand the loss of her baby sister.  The book was released on January 15 and we honored Kitty yesterday by hosting a ‘book celebration’ on the anniversary of her death. The turnout was unexpectedly amazing.  We were overwhelmed by the outpouring of care and support. 

Those who love us and hold us in prayer keep us strong, bracing us with their encouragement, guiding and supporting us along our personal grief path.

No … my grieving has not been solitary this time around.  I have been surrounded by dear friends, family, neighbors, former coworkers, i.e. people who walk this road of grief with our family each and every day.  I couldn’t be more grateful. 

Carpe diem!  Remember, reflect, honor, celebrate, grieve, mourn, embrace the presence of loved ones and revel in time spent alone. 

Oh, how I love a good snow day.

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