The story of my grandmother, Lillian, rings true on many levels in life.
She once wrote children’s stories and adult novels to use as an outlet for creation. She wrote every night until she passed, writing the stories of her heart and dreams.
In my life, I have seen her presence in different forms.
It first started with a call I received the night she died. It was a voicemail from her phone, but no one was on the other line. All I heard was static beeping and very distant chaos. I gave my partner the phone to listen to see if he had ever heard this kind of beep in the hospital he previously worked at, and he told me he hadn’t.
I felt anxious and sad, but connected. In the back of my mind, I knew she was there. I knew she was with me.
About a week or so before she died, I had shown up on a random day with no call (very unusual) and just wanted to stop by and say hey. I was coming from a baby shower, so I was dressed in all white. When I walked into her bedroom, two other people were there going through her stuff with her sitting on her bed. I walked in and sat next to her. She seemed confused, but pleased to see me. We exchanged hugs and greetings, and she passed me multiple large envelopes with her precious creations.
We kind of just sat there, with hope and grief in the air. Expectancy.
I took the envelopes home with me, with the promise to someday publish them for her.
Grandma, I miss you. I will share your story and treasure our times together.
Knowing Lillian, she would want us all to live. Enjoy life. Experience freedom. Push towards the unknown because we can.
She couldn’t.
She had dreams of going to Alaska and seeing the mountains and scenery. She had dreams of becoming an author with many published books. She had dreams.
I will not sit by and let our dreams pass us by. While we have the chance to do something with our lives, we need to lean into it. Take advantage of the gift we have. Freedom. You CAN do it. YES, you can.
New things are scary. It’s about embracing who you are and taking that step forward.
Act as a bird,
and fly high.
Love you, Grandma.
