Two years. 730 days. Countless lonely nights crying yourself to sleep. Some days it feels like yesterday we got the call. It doesn’t get easier wether were talking 7 years or two or a little over a year. It still hurts when you lose a family member.
With everything going on this week, Robin Williams suicide death, it brings more light to the topic of suicide.
Two years ago I was helping my mom decorate her new first grade classroom. When my aunt called. My grandfather had been in a hit and run and was running from the cops. They found him thirty minutes later dead in a single car accident on interstate 95. He had written a email to my grandmother just hours before that morning and who would have ever thought he would go through with it.
He was the most godly man I knew. He sang in the choir every Sunday and did worship and bible studies and helped me so much with life lessons and Gods plan for me. Then he was gone. I try so hard to live each and everyday in his name and in my other grandfathers name. I ask god why all the time and ask for signs but as hard as it may be, sometimes we don’t see the signs. Sometimes people cover them up to protect there loved ones.
I go back just days before his death and ask myself why couldn’t I have maybe called more or been there more, but it wouldn’t have made a difference.
God had a plan for everyone. We may not like where it takes us or puts us through along the way, but in the end this world that we live on is only temporary. We’re not home until we are with Him.
I miss you more and more every day.