Heaven Looks A Little Brighter

What a heavy day this is. The sisters and I went to church, as per our custom on Sundays. God moved in such a special way. How do I know this? Because I had a migraine from all the tears I had shed. "The Mc" came over for lunch and we all spent the evening together. I went to my room, took a few pain killers and rested. I got up for a glass of water, when Sisters #3 came into my room with her phone on speaker. Sister #2 quickly followed. I was still groggy from the mix of pain killers and sleep, but I knew something had happened.

Something terrible had just happened; for the facial expressions that walked in, told me so. The heaviness was palpable, as my father's voice began to fill the silence of my darkened room. These words will forever be apart of me, 'Kanj, I'm sorry to wake you up, but I thought you should know that GM passed away today from kidney failure.'

And with that sentence, my heart was ripped out of my chest; the breath knocked out of my body. A torrent of tears fell, as I tried to sort out what Dad has just told me. He said she was gone and that MM and 'Q'M were now facing a journey through the darkest of valleys. I couldn't even hug them, or tell them that I loved them; so I cried for them. My heart broke for them. For the little six year old girl that now has to grow up without her mom, for the man that stood taller when she was in the room, who smiled bigger and brighter when he spoke about her. What could I do BUT cry? She was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, prayer warrior, and one of my closest friends while I was over there. She was beautiful; inside and out. And now, I'm told she's gone.

Sister #3 and I stood in the middle of my room and let the grief wash down our faces. Sister #2, ever so supportive and sympathetic, knew that we were close, and yet still she couldn't grasp the depth of our loss. She held us, as we held each other, questioning the sudden departure of a 'sister'. Sister #1 called from Florida and said, 'Kanj, I'm so sorry for your loss. I know she meant a lot to you.' She was part of my family. We went everywhere together and did everything together. She laughed at me and I laughed at her, most of all, we laughed together.

I wear a khanga for her today. My eyes have been flooded and rivers surge down my face, as I remember every single detail about her. Today, MM told Dad that he and 'Q'M were now alone and my heart broke all over again. I cried at work, as I remember MM telling me as we drove away, 'Don't forget us.' Well I've kept that promise. She's gone, but never, ever forgotten. This old world became a little darker, and heaven, heaven became a little brighter upon her arrival.

GM - Save a spot for me. I'm on my way, perhaps I'll be a little delayed, but as MM says so eloquently, 'I'm coming'.

Letter Eight

1. to walk with regular and measured tread

2. to walk in a stately, deliberate manner

3. to go forward; advance; proceed

4. the third month of the year

March is a special month in my family. This month brings a little bit of heaviness mixed with a little bit of acceptance, as we remember we're not alone in this journey. In March, we stand on the promise that He would never leave us nor forsake us. In March, we're reminded by those around us that God is our Healer.  It is the month, in which we stand proud and strong.  

In March, around the world we unite and support each other. Those that know, those that are learning, and those that need to know more. We're an organized body; smiling through the pain. In March, we fight like girls; going forward in the knowledge that He never gives us more than we can bear. March is our month.

Support the cause. Support her.

Letter Six

Dear Vera,

You should know that I'm a little emotional as I write this letter. I've spent the weekend on bedrest and I just found out that I have an infection that has crawled up into my kidneys. I've been put on yet ANOTHER medication. I have tears rolling down my face and I'm laying in a dark room, to broken to do anything else. Yes, I said broken. Broken, because I thought I was getting better. At this moment, I'm just ready to be well again. MB asked when I was going to be better, and I looked at her and said that was the million dollar question.

I've questioned and searched myself for any secret thing, some deep secret sin or mistake, something that that I could say, 'Oh... this is why this is happening to me.' Yet, I find nothing. I'm not ready to be like Paul and say, 'Im thankful for this thorn in my flesh, because it keeps me close to God.' Oh no. Not ready at all. In fact, I'm just getting to the place where I can look myself in the mirror and say, 'You know what? Those scars aren't so bad after all.'

I'll be transparent and admit that I go through moments of anger. How can that be? Me being a child of God, having so much anger at times that I just want to yell? Well, I'm not excatly sure, but that's just how it is. Yes, there really are days when all I want to do is yell at the world, 'WHY ME?!... When does 'enough' REALLY become ENOUGH?!' And today just happens to be one of those days. It won't last long, of this I'm sure; right now all I can do is take more medication and ride the waves of pain as they wash over my body.

Vera, the day I look into your sweet face and introduce myself, I'm sure it will be all worth it; but, I must be honest, for both our sakes, that in this moment it's hard to imagine that day. I am anxiously awaiting that day, because on that day I'll tell the world, "I won and you lost. I am a survivor, not a victim."

So, here's to the person that I will be: a survivor. And to the person that I am now: a fighter.

-Kr