As a little girl, I spent hours scooping “homemade” mud into tin pie plates and smoothing them over to perfection on my grandparent’s back porch steps. They were made of concrete and stained red, although, by the time I had honed my scooping skills, there was much less red (and concrete) than before. Even then, as a child playing on their back steps, I remember dreading the day that my grandparents would be gone and their home would be empty because in many ways, it was my home too.
So, perhaps you can imagine the sadness I felt when I learned on Friday that my grandmother’s home with the mud stained steps had been sold. Of course, it was inevitable, but dreaded just the same.
The little girl in me mourns the loss of warm hugs at the back door and seeing my grandmother’s smile as she tugged on her kitchen curtain for one last goodbye each time I drove away.
The little girl that’s all grown up also mourns these losses, but they are laced with wisdom, for I know where my grandparents are today, and because of their example, I am also confident I will see them again.
And on that day, no tugging on the corner of the kitchen curtain will be necessary, for those were only temporary. In heaven, the only tugging that will be done is that of my heart, for there will never be another goodbye.
Thank You, Jesus.
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