the thought of never seeing her again breaks my heart. some of my favorite childhood memories happened with mop and pop at their big, beautiful house on 120 plant avenue. memories like making mickey mouse waffles on saturday mornings (after a slumber party with the grandkids the night before, of course); making secret tents out of bedsheets, scotch tape, and furniture; playing tetris and monopoly on mop's computer (in the early 90's, baby!); sleigh riding on their little hill behind the house... i could go on for hours.
but you know, as hard as it is... she's free. free from all her earthly suffering and pain. free from physical limitations. free to dance with Jesus. (and that makes me jealous.)
last night, i couldn't sleep. i never have problems sleeping; that's one thing i'm pretty darn good at. but not last night. i was wide awake between 2-5.30 am. you know what's weird? mop entered eternity at 1.20 am (2.20 my time). i had no idea why i couldn't sleep, and i was so tired, it was annoying me. so i prayed. for her. for my mom. for my family. and then i counted sheep. still wide awake - something wouldn't let me drift off. i somehow knew? it sounds weird, but something in my heart knew... without me really knowing. (if that makes sense?) my mom commented this morning how at peace she was when she left... and how it happened at 1.20 am, which was fitting since she lived on 120 plant avenue for all those years. i know that's probably a silly little coincidence. but those are the things we cling to, right? it brings me back to the beautiful memories.
so mop, you're in heaven now. reunited with pop. you finally made it. and you are finally free.
love always, your favorite, most beautiful and modest grandchild, (how i used to sign all my cards to her) :)