I hurt today...

Heads up, this post may not have much to do with my journey or anything weight loss/mma/sport related.



Today is kind of hard for me... 7 years ago, Heaven gained the sweetest angel to ever walk the earth.  My Ninny.  This day, 7 years ago, hurt me to my core in a way that I have never felt hurt before.

I will never say that I was the favorite of my grandparents - Papa (Harlon B.) and Ninny (Mabel M.) Keel.  I will never say that they ever called me that, they didn't.  I will never say that I believed it, I don't!  But I will say they loved me with all of their hearts, and I loved them with all of MY heart.

I was the baby grandbaby (what Ninny called me) and sometimes I think that maybe I filled the void in their hearts, which was left by losing my Aunt Terri Jean in 1972.  For the first 13 years of my life, people always told me that I reminded them of her, I never did get to meet her though.  She is the first person I had ever known to have died of cancer, my dad's baby sister.  #CANCERSUCKS

I was also the grandkid who spent the most time with them.  I was the youngest, I didn't have a family of my own at the time, so it was only logical that they call me when they needed something, anything!  Trips to the store - schnucks or walmart.  Trips to eat.  Really anywhere!  I can still hear Ninny's voice "I am in the mood for a good steak, how about you?"

I play the guitar because of them.  On my 10th birthday, they bought me my first guitar!  6 string acoustic Alvarez, papa picked it out at a local pawn shop.  "Now, you won't be bored this summer!" I can still hear papa tell me this too!

I could go on and on all day long with stories about them.  They mean more to me than my words or stories could ever express.

I have to say though, that Ninny's last day is one of my biggest regrets.  And I refuse to regret too much... She was in the hospital, though the doctor's couldn't find anything wrong with her.  I woke up on Saturday and went bowling.  That was my way of relaxing at that time, oddly enough.  I used to disconnect when I bowled.  Turned my phone off, and left it in my bowling bag.

After 5 games, by myself, I checked my phone.  Missed calls from aunts and cousins who NEVER called or texted me, unless something was wrong.  My heart immediately sank.  My phone rang and it was my dad "drop everything and go now"  something he didn't usually say "we are on our way home now from Springfield.  Meet you at the hospital"

I got there, but it was too late.  She was already unresponsive.  She was still breathing, and her heart was still slowly beating, but I truly believe that she had already gone home to Jesus - her body was only catching up.

I spent the next couple of hours, holding her hand, talking to her, and spending what was left with her.  And then she was officially gone.  My world was crushed.

7 years later, my heart still breaks thinking about it.  I cry just as hard today as I did that night.  And people still tell me "it will get better" or "it will get easier"  But honestly, it's not getting easier.  It has gotten easier to function, but I still think about her every day.  I still think about some of the silly stuff she used to come up with, or places we would go, even things we used to do!  I think of her and papa every time I play my guitar.  I miss them so much, half the time I don't know what to do with myself.

So, now that I am in tears... I should probably end this.  Take a moment and call that person you are thinking about.  Send them a text, or message them on Facebook.  Tell them that you love them, and never feel bad for doing so.

Just take some time...