7 years without my Mimi and I sit here trying to find the words to say. Facebook is often riddled with pictures of late grandparents, and sometimes I find it difficult to grasp the significance of them all. All express the same sentiment: I miss you. But yet with each loving statement are stories upon stories of all the times spent with a person that made life that much better.
Sometimes I find it difficult to wrap my mind around the last few months, as if I’m still trying to grasp reality. Life has a funny way of making it seem as if things are being thrown at you, when you actually planned for them to happen. As a child you imagine your life unfolding in the way one always dreams it would, without really stopping to think of the plans God has for you, and that they’re, more often than not, radically different.
Sometimes you find yourself getting caught up in the “norm.” Everyone says “Dare to be different,” but when you step outside of society, it’s uncomfortable. You almost don’t feel safe, and you crawl back to the other side where you don’t have the fear that comes along with not being normal. I’ve found it takes a strong will and trust and faith in God to really break those chains, and that’s where I am at this very moment.