The past week and a half have been the worst days of my life thus far.
Last night’s viewing and today’s funeral felt like an out-of-body experience. It felt unreal, as if I’ll wake up tomorrow and none of this will have happened.
My grandpa was in my dream last night. I dreamt of his funeral, then it cut to my mom and me eating with him in his apartment. I woke up with such a longing ache in my heart.
As I looked at my grandpa in the casket last night, I got so mad at God. I demanded, “You rose Lazarus from the dead. Why not him? You could if you wanted!”
It still doesn’t feel real, the fact that he’s gone, that I won’t see him for the rest of my earthly life. I know I’ll see him again, but I still have to go through the rest of this life without him here.
I’m incredibly thankful for everyone who has been there for me during this time. I’m thankful for my closest friends who came last night and this morning, and especially for my friend who actually surprised me and flew out to be here. I’m thankful for my two nuggets who slept over last night and that I didn’t have to be alone. Or else, I know I would have spent the night crying.
It still feels odd to me how there can be so much grief in our hearts, but we can still genuinely laugh and joke and enjoy the company around us.
I am terrified for the moments when his absence will be most felt, like when I go over my grandma’s apartment to visit, when I have to cancel his cell phone line, when (if) I get a boyfriend and introduce him to my grandmother, when (if) I get married, when I graduate grad school. I regret every time I reluctantly let him hold my hand instead of joyfully taking his in mine. I regret every hug I never gave, every time I raised my voice at him, every time I told myself to call and didn’t, every free day I had that I could have paid a visit but didn’t, every time I should have told him I love him and now can’t.
If I know that God’s ways are good and perfect, that he’s safe and happy in the Father’s arms, and that this separation is only temporary, why does sorrow still fill every crack and crevice of my heart?
While driving my grandmother around with the funeral and post-funeral stuff, she told me how now it’s boring/lonely without his nagging. I jokingly asked her if I should start nagging her instead.
As I drove home alone earlier, I couldn’t help but replay what she said. Her cries and wails from last night and this morning rung loudly in my ears. I thought about the deafening silence she now has to face every day, every night. Thinking about how her own heart must be aching and hurting tonight hurts every fiber of my being right now.
She smiled when I boasted that I bought this new SUV for her so that it’d be easier to take her around. As we laughed, a part of me wanted to scream inside because I was looking forward to taking both my grandparents for a ride when I got Reggie (short for Regulus), but I’ll never get to do that.
I just saw him two Saturdays ago. People just saw him two Sundays ago at church. I still find it difficult to accept how God took him without warning, without explanation. It still doesn’t make any sense.
Despite my tears and despite my pain, I am still thankful.
I am thankful for all the people who came last night and/or this morning. I was so thankful when I saw so many of my mom’s and grandparents’ friends there to say goodbye to my grandfather and to be there for my family. I’m thankful for everyone’s compassion. I’m thankful for my brother’s friends and girlfriend who came out. I’m thankful for family who were here so we could cry together. I’m thankful that the viewing service was a chance for non-believer family members and family friends to be reminded of what my grandfather believed – Jesus is Savior. I’m thankful because they all basically only understand Korean, and of course, the service was in Korean, so there was no language barrier for them. I prayed and continue to pray that God uses last night and this morning to call more hearts to Him.
I may be down but I will rise
It may be dark but God is light
Sin has lost its power
Death has lost its sting
From the grave You’ve risen
Marvelous Light (Live from Passion) – Charlie Hall