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Angels watching over me
By Kenya L Chase Dixon
Sunday, April 04, 2004
Rated "G" by the Author.
This is a story that reflects November 7, 2003 which was the day my paternal grandmother passed. It shows how God works in mysterious ways.
My day started out early, I picked up my sister and headed to her grandmother's house. For some reason this absolutely beautful day seemed kind of weird to me. There were no signs of anything out of the ordinary but it just gave me an eerie feeling. The birds were chirping as usual and my two girls did what they do best: pluck my nerves. So I must say today seemed normal enough.
When we pulled up my children were starting to get a little irritated with the fact that their aunt was leaving. My out of the car and said "Hey Ken pop the trunk."
"Sheena you need help?" I asked while walking around the back of the car join her.
"Of course I need help. What is that a trick question." Sheena said while grabbing another bag out of the trunk.
"Alright love you and call me. See you Sheena." I said then I got back in the car and headed down the street. At the stop sign, there was a big building, a senior citizen home. If my memory serves me right my grandmother lives in that building.
I turned around in my seat and said "We are going to go see Grandma Bernice okay."
"Grandma Bernice?" My oldest daughter said with a puzzled look on her face. It bothered me that she barely knew my fathers mother but she wasn't alone. Little did she know I didn't know her that well either. So visiting sounded like a great idea.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I looked back to say something to my children when I realized Sheena forgot her coat. Due to the brisk winter air I knew she will definitely need her coat.
"I have to take Aunt Sheena her coat. But we can still go see grandma. Okay." I told my two girls.
The both said "Okay" in unison.
Now this morning was really starting to get weird when I somehow could not find my way back to the street where I dropped my sister off. The thing that struck me as unusal, is the street that I dropped my sister off, runs right into the where my grandmother lives. So how did I end up lost when the streets are right next to each other. After about 30 agonizing minutes of frustration, I found the street. A street that I believe, I drove pass many times within that time frame. Once my sister came out to get her coat I told her about my little adventure finding the street. She found humor in my frustration and for that minute so did I. We said our goodbyes for the second time and I headed home. Now that I was very irritated and frustrated I told the kids we would see Grandma Bernice tomorrow. And if you know kids, they didn't like my decision one bit but they had no choice.
After being home for about fifteen to twenty minutes, the phone rang.
I answered "Hello."
"Kenya, it's Mama. She gone" The familar cried.
"Daddy what's wrong?" I said in a concerned tone.
"It's Mama. Shelley went in to wake her for breakfast at about 8:30 and she wouldn't wake up." My father said between sobs. This was crazy, I was just there.
"Oh God no. Daddy you wouldn't believe that I was just in front of her building around the time Aunt Shelley found her?" I said trying to put the pieces together.
"Are you serious?" My father asked.
"Yes that is so crazy. Are you okay Daddy?" I asked sincerley.
"I'll be okay. Right now I'm still at the hospital but I will call you when I get home." He said then we hung up.
I dropped the phone in disbelief, now I knew how I became lost. My heart felt heavy and I began to cry uncontrollably. Then I sat on my confused trying to figure out exactly why I was crying. Was it because I will miss her or was it because I never got a chance to know her. Then it could have been the guilt of not cherishing her when she was here. Trying to pull myself together I think of what's ahead.... the funeral which is something I am not ready for.
The day of the funeral fell on the 12 day of November and I couldn't sleep the night before. A strange feeling woke me out of my sleep and led me to my computer, where I sat crying and typing a poem for my grandmother. Poetry was my normal way of dealing with life storms. I thought back to when I was a little girl and how my grandmother never told me she loved me and how she never really accepted me. So I am sitting here with my hand on my head crying and trying to make sense of what I was feeling. In a sense, I felt guilty for not really crying because I will miss her. Looking down at my keyboard I start to visualize how our relationship could have been. My daydream takes me to a summer day in her kitchen, creme colored tile, delicious aroma of sweetness that will hypnotize you, cake mix on the table and spoon in hand. A fluttering feeling developed in my stomach, as I think of the love, the relationship that would never be. Returning to my daydream my grandmother and I are cooking together the way a grandmother and granddaughter should. And for that moment I was jealous. Not of anyone perticular but every girl that was able to spend that time with her grandmother. I felt cheated, like something was stolen, my normal garden fresh girlhood. It was all clear to me now that I would only find closure at the funeral; so I thought.
Sitting in the pew, listening to the stories people told about her and all the love she shared. Again, I couldn't help but feel like she never opened that world to me. Coming to terms with myself I realized that I was hurting for all the cakes we never baked together, all the spoons I never had the chance to lick, the games we never played, , and most of all the love that so many spoke of, I knew nothing about. I was deeply wounded by the absence of her affection in my life. In my life, I've always believed that God will make things happen in your life for a reason. What he taught me is to never ever let a day go by that I don't cherish the important people in my life. This experience has changed my outlook on life. It was no coincidence that I became lost after only going around the block; it was God working the way he does. He was trying to give me a message and I have to say I truly understand.
God works in mysterious ways.
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|Reviewed by Robert Padget
|great story Kenya|
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|good story, kenya!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your texas friend, karen lynn. :D