Far Away From Home

I have not written in over a month.  I have lots to share.  And I will.  But today, I'm honoring my grandmother.  She peacefully passed yesterday... well, this morning NL time.

We've heard so much about the world's turmoils, and being in this part of the world makes you think and feel a bit differently about it all.  The tsunami/earthquake in Japan struck a chord when we saw television footage of places we'd been to just a month earlier.  We were planning a trip to Thailand when we learned of flooding there.  We were considering an opportunity to move to Cairo this time last year and are thankful now that we did not move to Egypt to be amidst the protests and civil unrest in that part of the world.  We've sent our thoughts, we've donated, and we've felt our deepest empathies for people suffering.

But nothing strikes closer to the heart than the passing of a loved one...  the head of the family.  When you can't be near your grandmother to say good-bye and be part of the collective family healing, you feel far, far away from home.  And that's one of the drawbacks of living so far away.

My grandmother was a woman of great strength and independence.  She was loved incredibily by a big (and growing) family.  She lived in her own apartment at almost 88 years old.  She loved to shop - and return things.  She loved playing cards and the people she regularly played with.  She made connections with beautiful people.  She spoke her mind.  She was involved with her community and church.  Her smile lit up a room.  She remembered everyone's birthdays.  Although she underwent several medical issues over the years, she lived life.  She was planning her outing to the drugstore for Seniors' Day for yesterday - the day she left this physical world.  She'd spent over 50 days in the hospital recently but was shopping and playing cards just weeks after her arrival home.  She learned new things in her 80s... like learning to test her own blood sugars at 87 years old.

Yes, Nan was a great woman and lived a beautiful life.  A beautiful family mourns her loss, and I wish I could be there with them right now.

Namaste Nan