I’ve been thinking a lot about my Grandma and her life. I still am so amazed that we were able to be with her. When I think about the times we spent together when we were little, how some 30 some years later we’d be there at the end of her life, I’m blown away. It is normal for loved ones to gather around the bedside of dying family.

But I had kind of given that up, that hope, when she moved back to Florida. The likelihood of travel and family details working out gets infinitely more complicated the farther away you are from a person. When she moved again, it seemed so wrong to think that the woman who gave so much to her family would die with none of us there.

There’s a part of me that wants to say, “God saw my heart. He saw my sadness. And then he moved and worked in ways as to redeem it.” I still think things like this, but I don’t know why I find it so hard to just say them. Maybe he didn’t work it out this way for any particular reason. But even if he didn’t I still will acknowledge his blessing.