I’m at your grave

I’m at your grave

I’m sitting at your grave right now. The sun is warm and the breeze feels nice. So many sounds of construction and yard work around me while a crow let's me know he’s here too. It’s odd, sitting here. Every time I come some other neighhour has been added to the row. It makes me sad, because I know there are more people who, like us, have to experience loss. Have lost their loved one, have to feel grief.

Tears run down my cheek. I parked my car over by Co-op this time and as walked here I could feel them swelling and welling up. It's weird. I feel it in my throat and in my gut and in my heart. I haven't cried about you for a while, but that doesn’t make the heartbreak less intense. Sometimes I feel guilty when there are no tears, but girl, the lack of tears doesn't mean I no longer miss you. I almost think the missing becomes deeper as time passes.

You should have turned 27 this weekend. That would have been according to my plan, you know, the ‘grow old together’ kind of thing; and here I am sitting at your grave. That isnt right, that shouldn't be. I always find the solitude, the respect, the solemness of a cemetery quite comforting, peaceful, and at the same time this place is so empty or something. Most people don’t come here for fun. Then the other time I was here I saw a lady working out between headstones and I nearly walked up to her. You know me - I'm kind of chicken, but honestly I had to tell you. I can’t believe people have the audacity to do something like that.

I was gonna say I'm glad you're here. In this grave. But you really aren’t here. It's just a casket with what remains of your body and a pretty headstone on top. You know we got your verse, our verse, put on it?! It is such a great reminder that the Lord’s strength is what carries us, what's perfect in our brokenness if we commit to him and that it's only by his grace. But that grace is so sufficient, so abundant for me in my weakness and you in yours. It is what saved us and holds us and makes you be able to be with God in heaven now. And we, we to get to live with the Lord but here on earth. What a blessing and such amazing grace that we get to abide with the Lord and that He never leaves us and He never changes. It blows my mind that we get to be with Him in heaven and I'm actually a little lot jealous you already get to be there.

This world has been quite the gongshow lately. The craziest things have been happening, I'm not getting into them but you'd have a fit if you heard about all the jazz going on. I know you would have your opinions but you’d also have been without work and youth and friends for months and months because of covid and I'm just so glad you dont have to experience all that. This would break you girl, and yet you’d remain positive and think of way to hug people even though we are told we can’t.

There is so much going on and I wish we could talk. I'd ask you your views and listen to your rants. We’d message back and forth and try to wrap our heads around this.

I mean, the world situation is nuts and I'm not minimizing that. Really though, we were told from the beginning that by choosing to eat (goodness, I just realized even Eve liked food!) - we made a choice that life wouldn't be easy. We wouldn't forever walk with God in the garden and the Lord could no longer say “and it was very good”. We, as humanity, messed up big time. And until this day we live with the effects of that choice so long ago. The effects are diseases like cancer and viruses like covid. It’s crime and violence and hatred. It's people blowing each other up and selfish gain being priority over the whole. It's the loss of community and family units. It's broken relationships and abuse. And yet there is some hope. Lots of hope. You knew it. I know it. And you shared it when you were here and even in the story of your battle with NUTs and death, even then you stood triumphant. How? Because you lived and relished in God’s grace and shared his power and might and victory. Not just a few, you shared with everyone so that they too would know His strength. God used you to plant so many seeds and that was your task. And you did, often with joy and a smile. Honestly, you weren‘t perfect but your smile and joy and genuine care and love for people is what I hear about. You cared girl. And your youth, your friends, clients, co-workers, co-leaders, everyone who knew you knows that still. I believe it's a testimony in itself and those seeds you sowed and showed, God will give the increase.

So as I sit here, my tears dry now, and my cheeks salty, I just am so thankful for the years we had together. For the time I got to have with you and for the life you lived here on earth. I am thankful for the beautiful woman you are and were and that I know that you are with the Lord. Thank you, for being your bouncy, crazily excited you, for being the non-communicating listener, my loudest cheerleader and my truest friend. I miss you dear sister but oh am I ever glad that the lord had you Home and that we have that comfort. Looking forward to being reunited one point in eternity but until then I will continue to tell your story, continue loving you my dear, and all who know me know I have a little sister and she's with Jesus.

To God be the glory!

I'm moving to The Netherlands soon here, and this will be the last time I can visit your gravesite for a while. I mean, you don’t notice I'm here probably - but that's fine! This is a pretty special place.

Ps. took my birks off and just chilling here with my sunnies and soaking up the rays. You would do the same.

And another thing. You’re beside a police officer and across the path is a large army vehicle. One of the kids trusted that you’d at least be safe in this spot.