The Springs of Living Water

Growing up my favorite thing to do was to visit Grandma. She
lived less than an hour away, so my mom would often bring my sister and me up
for weekend trips. Being at Grandma’s was like a vacation. Grandma loved to
spoil us. And I distinctly remember what she always said afterwards: don’t tell your mother!

We always started our weekend with a trip to the grocery
store, just to make sure that she had our favorite treats around, including
animal crackers, cookies, string cheese, and breakfast cereal. Sometimes, in
the middle of the night, she would wake us up to sneak into the kitchen and eat
cookies and milk, and in the mornings, she always let us drink coffee. And on
extra special days, she would drive in to a parking lot, place us on her lap,
and let us drive. Grandma had one huge king-sized bed, and the three of us
would sleep on it, giving each other back rubs before bedtime every night.
During the day we would spend hours playing dress up. We’d run into grandma’s
closet and find our favorite hats and shoes and then model them for her. She
had a special basket of our favorite toys that she kept for us in the closet.

But Grandma came to visit us too. She would drive down in
her Honda Civic quite often actually, whether for our weekend soccer games or
some special school performance, Grandma was always there. She never missed one
Grandparent’s Day at school and she never missed a Christmas play or any other
important event. She was always there. One day, Grandma showed up to our house
with a very special gift: a cat! She loved telling us the story of picking him
up in the pet store and bringing him to our house. 

On Easter we would go to Grandma’s apartment to spend the
night. When Grandma hid the eggs, no one could find them, except for weeks
later when they would start to rot. On Thanksgiving she would make the mashed
potatoes, loaded with tons of butter and salt, always the best tasting. And on Christmas, Grandma would drive
down to our house for Christmas Eve and spend the night. She’d sit on the couch
watching us open gifts, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek as we thanked her
for all her presents.

When I turned thirteen years old, my parents told me we were
moving to California. I remember
hating the idea and not wanting to go. I once looked back at an old journal
entry where I wrote: The worst part about
moving to California is leaving Grandma. Grandma was one of
my best friends. Although I had to move away from her and couldn’t visit her
every weekend anymore, Grandma never stopped showing she cared. She came to
visit California and she wrote us
letters and emails telling us how much she missed us. Not a day has gone by in
my 23 years where I haven’t felt loved by my Grandma.

 My grandma has been a model for unconditional love in my
life. She has loved me no matter what I do, where I go, or any other decisions
I make. I couldn’t have asked for a better Grandma than her. And so I ask for
your prayers as I leave tomorrow morning to go to Chicago
and see her for the last time. I ask for your prayers that she can hold on for
one more day so that I can see her before she passes on to be with the Lord.

 Part of this decision involves leaving before debrief
begins. There are things I am going to miss out on, such as debrief meetings,
one on ones, and the final banquet. For the past two days I have struggled over
whether to stay here and finish the race or to go to Chicago
and see my Grandma. And the bottom line is that I love my Grandma too much to not go and be with her. There has never
been one time in my life that she wasn’t there for me, and I refuse to not be
there for her.