One year ago, on July 3rd, I lost my grandfather. Not to old age or a disease as we all thought one day may take him home, but to suicide. I have to admit that I never thought suicide in my family would happen. To me suicide was for "messed up" people not every day families like mine. But on July 3, 2006 I'd meet it head on. I'd be lying if I said that past few days around this holiday went smoothly. An anniversary from a death is always painful you remember the day like it was yesterday recalling the smallest details. On that day we had slept in and were heading out the lake house for the holiday. The phone rang and boy picked it up and handed it to me immediately. Something in his face told me I'd remember this phone call for the rest of my life. My mom had that voice...there is just something awful about a voice getting ready to share bad news. She told me my grandfather had commited suicide with a .22 on the church steps that morning. I collapsed in sobs. From that point it seemed like such a blur as we drove all day to my grandmother. I remember the shock, I remember the tears as I held my mother, I remember the pain I felt for my aging grandmother as she was given this news, I remember the sun setting on the Kansas plains as we drove, I remember the panic and fear of the unknown days ahead, I remember the rain as it fell driving into their hometown, and I remember the silently prayer of thanks for God giving us this rain to wash it all away. I wanted so badly for God to take this all away and for this to be one bad dream.
That night I tucked my sweet grandmother into bed. I held her tiny hand and we prayed in sobs. She would go for the 1st time in 61 years of marriage without her sweetheart lying next to her that night and that was almost to painful for me to bear. "How God are we supposed to do that?" The pain of losing a loved one is so painful, but for that life to be ended out of choice makes the questions flow uncontrollably. Some days moments like this one stand out more so than others. I think I will end here tonight. I will leave you with a reminder of God's grace and mercy. As painful as this experience was and is, God has overflowed our cups with love and strength to deal. His word was the rock I needed and the rock in which I leaned. The verse 2 Timothy 4:17 has a new meaning to me now, "The word stood at my side and gave me strength" I love that scripture for it's power and relentlessness. Sometimes we may forget to seek His word when we need it most. But our Heavenly Father knows and is without a doubt there even if we forget to ask.