Sunday, December 26, 2010

I'll Be Seeing You

My grandfather died in the early morning hours of April 6, 2008.  It was a tough day for all of us, followed by tougher weeks ahead.

At this time, I was still in high school and my sister was at Ole Miss.  I could hear the phone ring in my parent's bedroom and I knew that it was never a good thing whenever anyone called that early.  My mom came in to tell me the news: Papa died.

We had expected it for a while.  He had received diagnosis after diagnosis that all pointed to the end.  However, in the same fashion that he lived his life, he neither tired nor faltered; he would not accept something that he did not believe to be true.  Over the next months after his diagnosis, his health got a lot worse.  He got weaker and we settled into the knowledge that we would soon be without him.  But it was not that easy.  My cousin was getting married that spring and he did not want to miss it.  Despite his failing health, Papa managed to find his second wind.  He made it to that wedding and we have the proof in a beautiful photograph of the entire family.  True to it's form, Papa's second wind did not last long.  A few weeks later, my grandfather passed away.

My mother drove to Oxford right away to tell my sister.  She went to her dorm room, woke her up, and let her know.  She took my sister to get breakfast and sitting there next to the car was a beautiful male cardinal.  He watched them drive away.  My sister knew it in her heart that that cardinal was Papa, quietly watching over her.

That night when I was trying to find my shoes that I was going to wear to the funeral, I looked underneath my bed and saw, not a pair of shoes, but instead a toy cardinal.  Oftentimes when I am running late or am stressed out, I see a quick glimpse of a cardinal out of the corner of my eye and I instantly relax.  On my most important days when the butterflies are fluttering in my stomach, I have been known to pass a cardinal on my way in to whatever new journey I am about to lead.  Cardinals are there when I am on the verge of tears.  During my best moments and my worst.  Present for my mundane and extraordinary days.

And this is not just for me or my sister.  My grandmother has a beautiful male cardinal residing in the birdhouse outside of the kitchen window.  My mom and aunts and uncles and cousins see cardinals all the time.  In terms of literature, a cardinal is a symbol of grace and nobility.  For my family, a cardinal is Papa... watching over us, protecting us, being there for our daily trials.



I have never been one to believe in reincarnation or ghosts or spirits.  That is not what Papa is.  I know that my grandfather is above in Heaven.  He watches over my family every day and just to say hello, he puts a cardinal in our path to remind us of the love he has for each one of us.





Today was another tough day.  My father, mother, sister and I were packing our bags to leave Mimi's house when Mimi told us that Aunt Naomi had died.  She had been fighting a very tough battle to live for quite some time now.  She had held on through Christmas, held on as long as she could, and passed away peacefully in her sleep.

We went over there once we heard the news.  We wanted to be with family and show our support to our loved ones that were beginning to face the grieving process.  It was such a hard thing to do, but I am so glad that we were able to be there.  We shed our tears, hugged our hearts out, offered our condolences, and gave our goodbyes.  With nothing left to do, we left.

Our bags were packed and we hit the road.  I turned on a playlist to try to mend our broken hearts.  I sat in the drivers seat, clutching the steering wheel and bracing myself for the long road home.  My sister sat next to me with her face pointed towards the window, trying to hide her tears.  We passed through the roads of that sleepy town, headed onto the highway, and we were nearing the bridge that connected where we were going with where we were coming from.  I leaned forward to turn up the radio.  My sister looked up.  What we saw then was a sign.  A sign that everything would be alright.  To the left of the car, right before the bridge, a dozen cardinals flew towards town.



I was sad not being able to spend Christmas with Papa this year.  I can still remember how his eyes would light up as he sat in the middle of the room and watched his children and grandchildren open their gifts.  I missed having him around.  I always do.  But as much as I missed him yesterday, I ache for my cousins who just lost their mother.  I am so sad that this is the last Christmas that they will have together. I hate that this is the end of a life, especially the life of a loved one.  However I witnessed something beautiful today that I will never forget.  I watched my grandfather, the head of the family, fly away home.  I watched as he, surrounded by his brothers, sisters, in-laws, and parents, flew to Aunt Naomi to take her to their new eternal home.  A place where life is endless and beautiful.  Where they will be together forever.







I miss you everyday, Papa.  I know that there will be a day where our family will be whole and together again, but until then...




I'll be seeing you.



Sunday, December 19, 2010

NYC

The semester ended and I made it through.  I moved into my new place.  I fell in love.

Right after the semester ended, I went on a (free) trip to New York City!  Along with 120 of my closest friends, I did community service for the greater NYC area.






I had the time of my life.


I made a library for the women in the YWCA.
I spent quality time with lovely Jewish seniors from the Bronx that had never been around Southerners.
I shopped until I dropped.
I ate until I couldn't move.
I was a citizen of Little Italy and Chinatown in one afternoon.
I called an international youth hostel my home.
I saw Times Square in the rain and the snow.
I laughed with people on the streets.
I belonged on the subway.
I mastered the art of gracefully draping my scarf around my neck.
I was asked for directions.
I saw my first real Broadway play.
I caught the Christmas spirit.
I woke up at dawn and stood in the cold for hours to get to shake hands with intelligent people that I respect.
I witnessed a beautiful child succumb to the staggering emotions associated with her pure belief.
I lived with black drama.
I felt at home somewhere around 72nd Street.
I walked and walked and walked.
I caught the perfect snowflake.
I saw a miracle on 34th Street.

I was wrong and I was right.  I lived and loved and laughed.

I did not want to come home.  I wanted to stay where the air is crisp.  Where the people are determined.  Where you walk with purpose, wherever it may be that you are going.  I wanted to be a part of the city that never sleeps; a place where I would fit in.

I went to New York City.
I have never been happier.