My sweet grandpa chicken died this past month, and to be quite honest, i'm not sure I really feel it yet. The absence of his sweet smile meeting my eyes when I find myself in the similar surroundings I described earlier. I'm not ready to go back up North and see his lonely rocking chair missing him. I'm not ready to feel one less body in a room full of family, i'm not ready to feel two less eyes smile upon me, and I know i'm not ready to go back to the room he last told me he loved me. i miss him. But my God is great, and He knows that those gentle eyes that have seen the world will meet mine again someday soon, someplace better than here.
Death is such a weird thing... it's so hard for me to wrap my head around it. It's the most unnatural-natural thing ever.. and, I don't like it. I wonder if that's why i've been wanting a baby so badly lately. I want new life. I want to hold something tender in my arms and love it like my grandpa loved his family. Lord, can I please have a baby! Because I know the only way this girl's getting pregnant is if it's your plan, and your doing.. so i'm crossing my fingers. You just let me know ;)
I've been loving this new song lately, it's by Miranda Lambert, it's called "the house that built me".. and i'm on the 9th repeat as a type. So embarrassing to divulge such information but i'm just that type of person who doesn't just like something... i LOVE it. Almost like Coffee.. gosh another thing God, if I get pregnant, can you make coffee okay for my baby? Great, thanks. (We have a this cool relationship.. don't worry, we're on a first name basis, he's got my back) Anyway, sorry this was so somber, this song inspires a different side of me. Something deeper and more important. It makes me think of my house, and how it built me, every wall in that house has memories of me growing up and learning how to live, and love. It gave me the courage when I needed it and kept all my secrets. It gave life to my dreams and heard parts of my heart that I can share with no one else. I love that house, the house that built me.