Loss is always hard to bear. Always. Death is not a welcome visitor, even years later it gnaws at our emotions just thinking of the day. Thinking of our last interactions with a loved one, the last time we uttered the words, “I love you.” Heaven comes too soon it seems.
Always too soon.
My grandmother passed away this week—93 years old and she was still beating me at Rummikub. Still watching NBA basketball while crocheting in her recliner. Still going to church and cleaning her house with a smile on her face.
I would have loved to visit her one last time, to tell her how her strength has inspired me to persevere no matter what comes my way. To hug her tiny frame and watch her shuffle around the kitchen cooking. My last memories with her are sweet, and I’ll hold onto them forever.
After a few nights in the hospital, her health declined quickly. Only hours after returning home, she was ready for heaven and heaven was ready for her.
What a gift of grace. What a scene it must have been as my Grandma Bonnie was welcomed into heaven by her husband and her eldest son—my step-dad. Not to mention, meeting her Savior. Heaven got another saint and God’s timing is always perfect.
Sometimes heaven comes at precisely the right time.
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