Missing Her {And a Winner!}

First, the winner of the $20 gift certificate to Christianbook.com!

To determine the winner, I went the decidedly low-tech route of scribbling the name of each person who commented on the first post of this blog and the last post of Life on Sylvan Drive on a piece of notebook paper, then cutting out the names and putting them into a bowl.  Then I went upstairs to see who was still awake, and David was the first to respond as I walked into the big boys' darkened room.  He got the privilege of getting out of bed, coming downstairs, and reaching into the bowl...

...to draw out the name of the winner...

...who happens to be Sara @ Embracing Destiny!

Congrats, Sara!  And many heartfelt thanks to those of you who read my spilled words; I'm simultaneously honored and humbled by your friendship!

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All it took was finding a letter from my Aunt Joyce in a stack of papers I somehow found time to sort through this afternoon.  And all it took in that letter was one sentence--the last one--to make me miss my grandma fiercely.

This is my Aunt Joyce (and this is a picture of a picture so the quality is low, but it still captures her and a corner of my grandparents' home):

And this is my grandma, with Jeff and me in 1996 (again, a low-quality picture of a picture, but nevertheless treasured by me):

I could write long posts about both of these dear ladies, but tonight I simply want to record how I was feeling today as I unfolded and read Aunt Joyce's letter.  She had sent it in a Christmas card a few years ago; and in her perpetually neat handwriting, she wrote about how she enjoyed reading my blog every so often and how she liked the pictures.  She wrote, "I'm glad you pause to enjoy the things the boys do and say!"  And then she continued--and this is what got me:

As Mother said - the best times are when the kids are home.

I didn't know Grandma said that!  But now that I'm growing up, I can feel her heart behind these words and sense the truth in them.  And suddenly, this afternoon, with my aunt's letter in my hand, I was missing Grandma like crazy, wishing for another chance to make that familiar drive to southern Pennsylvania, to spot the big farmhouse and pull in her driveway, to walk in her door and smell something delicious cooking, to hug her small frame in a warm but gentle embrace, to hear her voice and her laughter, to see the twinkle in her eyes, to walk around the farm and explore the cherished places there.  Just to be with her...

I loved all four of my grandparents and had good relationships with each of them, but this Grandma, being my last surviving grandparent, was special to me.  She's been gone for 12 years, so it's not as if grief for her is a new thing; but for some reason, today it welled up and left me yearning--for her and for her farm.  After her death, it was sold; and I understood why it had to be; but I wished that someone in the family could have kept it.  If there's any geographical place on earth that makes me incredibly nostalgic, it's that farm.

I hope, when I get to heaven, there's a little corner of it that looks exactly like the farm.  And I hope, when I get to the gate, she's right there waiting for me and we'll never have to say goodbye.

When she died, one of my most mournful thoughts was, "But she never got to see and hold my babies!"  I hope, someday in heaven, that she'll finally get to meet all of my children, and the circle will be unbroken.  

But for tonight, I'm still here on earth, missing her.  In honor of her, before I slip into my cozy bed, I'm going to go check on my boys again as they sleep and give them an extra kiss...because, even though we had a couple of rough "piranha hours" this evening, it's still true that...

"...the best times are when the kids are home."  Thank you, Grandma, for reminding me.