Bittersweet

There are so many good things going on in our lives right now, so many reasons to be happy. Tomorrow, we expect to see Gracie's little face. We're so excited to see our little girl, to gather more information about her, and to share our joy with our friends and family who have been so supportive on this journey.

In addition, today is Fathers' Day, and Bret and I are both blessed with fathers who love us and are exceptionally generous to us and our little family. Bret, himself, is a father of substance, a father who cares deeply for Grant and Grace and shows them that love on a day-in-day-out basis.

But, with all of the happiness swirling around us, we received hard news yesterday. My grandmother passed away after a hard-fought battle with leukemia. She was almost 89 years old, and, thankfully, I was able to visit with her just a few weeks ago on my trip out west. My grandmother and I were very close, and I am thankful that I have many, many, many memories of the two of us together. She was the person who took care of me when I was sick and my mom had to head off to work. She was the person who knew my favorite blanket (the soft blue one), my favorite foods (vegetable beef soup and pancakes with peaches), my favorite way to eat ice cream (chocolate syrup mixed with chunky peanut butter), my favorite way to play (cutting out toys from the Best catalog). My grandmother's history is a fascinating one, growing up in the deep south, living at the New Llano colony during the depression, taking a long train ride out to Los Angeles, and marrying my grandfather after being "matched" together by my grandfather's sister. I'm thankful that my grandmother's history is interesting. I'm thankful that while growing up in California that we lived so close to her, as it means that I saw my grandmother weekly. I'm thankful for the many ways she was generous with me, the many ways she made me feel special. I'm thankful that she got to meet Grant and play with him several times in her last years. But more than anything, I am thankful that my grandmother was a woman of faith because it makes this moment, the moment where I miss her, so much easier. I know she's in a better place, a better place that's not just a figure of speech. I know she's at peace, and I have complete confidence that we'll meet again someday.

I'm thankful that my grandmother had an unwavering trust in Christ. And as much as I miss her, and will continue to do so in the months and years ahead, I'm thankful that she's gone home.

Here are a few pictures from my recent visits out west... I can just hear my grandmother scolding me for using pictures of her, pictures she would look at and ask, "Do I really look like that?"