Holding on

I've sat down to write this post a few times and I walk away. Sometimes I walk away because I don't have the right words. Sometimes I walk away because I can't see the screen through the tears.  
My Grandma Dahlke took a terrible fall. Down a flight of stairs. It was traumatic, to say the least.  She is banged up, to say the least. The decision was made to put her on hospice care. She is 94 and not in a condition that would warrant surgeries or additional interventions.  
Behind the facts of the situation is a sadness that is so deep.  I can't really describe the loss.  I don't know that any words can really express the breadth of influence she has had on me, personally. It is too far and too deep.  I love her dearly and I know she loves me because she has said it over and and over and shown it in a million different ways over my life.  She is a constant presence, my cheerleader, the best story teller, and wise. Oh so wise.  Nothing has been off the table to talk about and you don't go 94 years without learning a few things.

I spent last weekend at home with her and some other family members.  As she laid in her bed in the living room, she reached for hands to hold.  Her hands fascinated me.  They have done so much over 94 years.  I thought about all the times they cared for me.  The times she took my hands in hers to reassure me, to grab me and hug me, to help me.  And as she grabbed onto each persons' hand as they sat with her, I needed to preserve those hands.  

My mom, mine and Autumn's hands.

My Grandma Koller.

My dad's huge hand holding on to his momma.

My mom, who has cared for her for so many years, caring still.

Dan

Karen

Me.

Gabe

Seth

Grace.

Cory Luke

Autumn

Liz

We are all having a hard time with the thought of her not being with us anymore.  When someone is so deeply woven into the fabric of your years, those threads don't want to let go.  

I don't want to let her go.