The Best of Times. . . and the Worst of Times. In Loving Memory.

This has been a crazy season in my life. Interviewing for residency has left my head spinning just about all the time! For about 3 months I just kept my suit case partially packed. I’ll admit some places I applied to just because I wanted to visit family or friends that lived in the area or thought a trip to the beach in December would be rather nice, however, most places I interviewed with were places I was seriously considering for the next 3 years of my life. It has been exhausting and yet very cool to travel and see new places and imagine myself living there and learning to become a pediatrician. Friday marked my final interview and with relief I headed home from New Jersey. I have been everywhere from Danville PA to Savannah GA and many places in between.  My first interview offer was in Galveston Texas, and though I tried several times to call the coordinator by the time I got through to her every interview spot had been filled. At the time, this did not seem like a big deal. I had only applied there in hopes to go visit my grandfather and his family who live outside of Houston. And even when that interview did not work out, I had almost determined in my mind that I would still go visit sometime this year. I had not seen them since I was very little.

I always thought I would get a chance to sit down with him again and just talk. A chance to let him know we all forgave him long ago, a chance to tell him a little about me and make him feel like he was part of my life even though he really wasn’t. I thought I would have a chance to tell him how I admired him despite it all. This morning came with the cold realization that I will have no such chances. When I heard he had been in and out of the hospital several times with pneumonia that he couldn’t kick I knew he was dying, I just thought it would take a few months. When I heard he was living in the past and his mind was going I knew maybe a month. When I heard he went home on hospice I thought maybe a week. I thought I had time for at least a phone call. But today it was too late.

 

Granddad, this is Janie. I’m Gina’s 3^rd. That visit to your ranch when I was young was one of the coolest things I have ever done. I always knew I was part Texan and that I would totally fit in Texas if the occasion presented itself. I rock my boots and jeans whenever possible and even a cowboy hat at times. I’m pretty sure that my desire to have a truck as my only vehicle comes from you. I hate that I haven’t seen you all these years. I’m not the little girl I once was; the one that went crazy with the face paint at the museum in Houston and came out looking like a piece of abstract art. I’ll actually be a doctor in a few months. I had always wished somehow you would be there for my graduation though I knew it was impossible with your health. You’ve missed a lot here, and I know we’ve missed a lot there. If you could’ve waited until I was a doctor then maybe I would have the money to fly us all out there. But I’m afraid I will miss your ceremony because it is so soon and so far away. This Christmas won’t be too different for us, because you’ve never been there for it. We don’t already have presents with your name on them under our tree like your other family does. We won’t have an empty chair at our dinner table. And yet, this Christmas will be very different for us. We love you grandad, and part of us left with you today. So we, along with your family in Texas, will have great pain and sorrow as we celebrate this season. But we will celebrate. Because the baby we are celebrating is our only hope, our only comfort, and our only peace. Because Jesus came I can live and continue on in the midst of pain. I so want to believe you’re there with Him, that you are with Mamaw and Uncle Bart worshiping God and dancing before His throne. But honestly, granddad, I didn’t know you well enough to know if you are. And that, I think, hurts the worst. I don’t know why God didn’t let me come to Texas for an interview this year so I could see you one last time, but I do know His way is good and perfect.  I love you, sir. And you will always be a hero in my book. Who knows, maybe one of these days I’ll actually make it back to Texas. But, I can assure you it won’t be the same. Rest in peace granddad, knowing you are loved much by many. I hope to see you again someday!