Words not said {enough}

bekah General 1 Comment

Bryan’s Grandma Snyder, affectionately nicknamed Geegee {short for great-grandma} is a trooper. At 89, she lives by herself, intentionally loves and blesses countless people, works part-time, knows more than I ever will, and is
And we’ve all decided she’ll be around forever.

A couple of weeks ago she started experiencing extreme pain, which temporarily landed her in a place where help is available 24/7, if needed. Her stay won’t be long, the goal being to get her back on her feet. After all, she will be around forever!

Sunday, the boys and I were making Valentine’s Cards for grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and most importantly, their daddy.
There was a lot of red finger paint.
Paper heart cut-outs.
Definitely twine.
And more hearts.

Our family phrase was scribbled across the boys heart-shaped handprints~ YOU make our hearts smile! It was the perfect afternoon craft sesh, until Tanner
the chair
his head!

For a moment, he laid still
and then his face shook,
his eyes rolled,
and he screamed.

At first, I thought he broke his arm,
or was having a seizure,
but really, he hit his head so hard, it took him a moment to come to.

After crying {a really good sign after hitting one’s head}, I snuggled with him, offered him every treat under the sun, and spent the rest of the day and evening
eyeing him,
observing him,
invisibly wrapping garbage-truck-size bubble wrap around him.

No big! Just bubble wrap him for life so he can’t fall off chairs anymore,
or get hurt playing soccer,
or worse yet, get his heart broken.

In the same breath, I want to push my boys towards life,
towards uncomfortable,
and in the next sigh,
I want to pull them on my lap
and breathe them in,
and wrap my arms around their small frames,
and pray protection over their fragile, yet resilient bodies and minds.

But I know they’ll be around forever!

Two years ago, my dad was diagnosed with kidney cancer.
My strong, easy-going, piano-playing, smiley dad.
One kidney later, he is cancer free!
We couldn’t be more grateful!
His routine check-ups prove good news,
untilĀ this morning.
When my mom called to say the doctor wants to see them regarding last week’s tests.

That’s weird, ‘cuz he is going to be around forever!

But forever
may not be my definition.

You see, none of us are promised tomorrow.
Even though I live like it.

I think about Grandma, but don’t act on calling.

I shut the door, after tucking my boys in for the night, and wonder,
did I hug them today, did I look them in their blue eyes, and tell them that I’m crazy about them?

I intentionally parent, beautifully affected by the kind of grandpa my dad is, but have I told him?

Forever, I fear, is grasping air.

So many words not said {enough}

Words I want to share, need to share,
before I’m sitting by my grandma’s assisted living bed,
holding my son’s hand in the hospital
staring at the truth in my dad’s eyes.

Your heart is beautiful. God shines through all you do, and your fear of Him makes you a force to be reckoned with. Your generosity and care for others inspires me.
You are ourĀ Geegee.

Watching you both run up and down the hallway, ducking in doorways, giggling, only to run off again, makes my heart smile daily. Your individual gifts of compassion, bravery, love for detail, and concern for people, make you a gift to all.
A gift, especially to your mom.
You are my Tanner and Ty Ty.

Your intentionality for fewer words, stirs me to lean in and listen, not wanting to miss a word. I watch you take life in strides and flavor it with grace and laughter.
Our boys love their Pops because you get down on their level to
listen, and
love them ~
on the ground level, where all purposeful memories are made.
You are my dad.

And I realize this forever nonsense is grasping air.

So I’m saying the words not said {enough}

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