If You Give a Pig a Pancake...

Good morning to all...
I know, the title is strange, but stay with me until the end.
I'm going to warn you that I am in a bit of an emotional state as I write this, but, I am not depressed, by any means. I've had a hard time lately, and know my posts reflect that...I know other's have gone though this too, and worse things,which lets me know that things will be fine...I hope my blog isn't depressing to anyone...it's just that this is like my journal for me to let things out, weather happy, sad, mad, or just plain tacky :-)

If you don't know her, or haven't heard me say, my Mamaw was THE BEST cook this side of the universe. Honest. Years ago, because of our family's many delicious recipes, my dad got the bright idea to make a family cookbook. What a perfect idea. Most women in the family got copies (it was years ago), but since I was still pretty young, I never got one. Plus, I did have a hard copy on my computer of all the recipes, so I never worried about it. My Mamaw had the "prized copy", the most loved, well worn copy. Because I didn't have a cookbook, I got to have hers after she passed away a couple weeks ago (I can't believe it's already been 21 days...
To say I was happy to get Her cookbook, would be an understatement to the fullest. Honestly though, her passing still doesn't feel that real, so for time being I put the cookbook away into the pantry. Last night, when everyone was asleep I got a hankering to get it out and look at it. You see, it's not just any cookbook...sure, it has the best recipes EVER filling it's pages, but it also has dedications, poems (all written by family members), pictures, etc. There are two pockets inside, and I found some obituaries that my Mamaw had saved, my Aunt Cora Mae, My great grandmother Mollie, etc...some very special people that my childhood memories are painted with. I didn't know those mementos were in there, which made it even more special. I only thought I was overwhelmed. Then. It. Hit. Me.
I was holding my Mamaw's cookbook, the one she had used hundreds of times, she had written on the pages, held it's cover, and thumbed through it over and over again. She had used those recipes to share her love and blessings with others. I realized her prints would always be on that book and that as I held it I was touching part of her, it was then that I became completely overwhelmed. I began to cry uncontrollably. I laid on the cookbook just trying to be with her (I know, I know, but it was what I felt at the time), I realized anyone peeping in my back window would think I had gone completely mad, down on my knees, grasping this cookbook, crying out...then I realized if they were peeping in my back window, they were the ones with the problem, so I proceeded. I was so desperate to talk to her one last time or hug her one last time, that I was ready to do just about anything (don't read too much into this)...all I could do was call out to her, trying to make myself believe that she just MIGHT answer me, after all, with GOD, anything is possible. And, though I never heard her voice, I felt GOD sitting beside me, I felt HIM really with me. I felt like His heart really was broken that mine was broken, as it is when you see your own child in such despair. I knew if He wanted he could do something to ease my pain, and He did. He reminded me that my Mamaw is celebrating an eternal life with Him, now...and it's more glorious that my earthly mind could ever imagine, and that I must trust GOD on that, and that even if she had the choice, she wouldn't come back to us...but wait patiently until we go to the place where she is.
So, for now, I am satisfied with that. I miss her. Also, My G-ma (my other grandmother) passed away last Labor Day, so the 1 yr. anniversary of her death is coming up Monday. I don't understand how a year has possibly passed since I have seen her.? I don't get it. However, I see her frequently in my dreams, and how do I know that's not real? To me, it is, I mean it feels like it is. And who's to tell me differently? Anyway, I just miss them both so very much. One thing I am happy about is I got to spend a lot of time with both of them, and they both knew how much I loved them.
This morning when Isabel and I got home from taking the boys to school, she made me come inside while she stood on the porch with her baby doll. She has started this thing...I have to come in, lock the door, and stand there until she rings the bell and I let her in, pretending she's company. So, this morning she rings the bell, and I ask, "Who is it"? "It's me", she replies. I open the door and say "Hello there, what a beautiful baby you have there". "This is my granddaughter, not my baby", she says. So I am thinking how she is the baby's grandmother, which reminds me that I don't have a grandmother anymore, which reminded me of last night, which made me sad all over again, which made me need to come and write this post and get it all out.
And you know what happens when you give a pig a pancake. :-)