Today, sixteen years ago the Lord took home my Granny. She was so funny and full of life. She was soft and she gave the best hugs. She was my mom’s mom. When I first quit drinking in July of 1998, and after I started having sobriety time under my belt, I became fearful of losing my family that I had hurt during the years of drinking. I had lied, cheated, stole, manipulated, and quite frankly took them for granted. I began pleading with the Lord to please let my grandparents (I was privileged to still have both sets of grandparents still living.) live for me to reach my two year sobriety mark. “Just give me two years Lord, please. Just give me two years.” I can still feel the pain and fear of them not knowing the new Stacey and it makes my heart hurt. I don’t know why I asked the Lord for the two year mark, but that is what my heart hurt for . . . for them to be able to see that Stacey was serious and she was a different person. God honored that prayer and hearts desire when I reached that two years of sobriety on July 7, 2000. But then . . . just weeks after that mark, the Lord called her home. I was devastated but it was during her brief illness I began to learn the full power in prayer. God. Was. Faithful. He allowed me those two years as a new person and she loved me. She knew I loved the Lord and was a new person. She knew I was there when one of the pastoral staff members from Olive came and prayed with her. She knew . . . . And wasn’t she gorgeous!
The next picture is of my Pappow Bruntlett. He was my dad’s dad. The Lord took him home this day in 2000. My Pappow was a hard man. But he loved through his actions. In all the years of him being alive he only told me he loved me once . . . and while those three words are very important to hear . . . there is no doubt in my mind that he loved his children, his grandchildren, and his great children. He served our country for many years. He loved swing dancing, Big band, polka, and jazz. In fact, I have a case full of his old cassettes that we used to listen to when he would drive to me class in his old Nissan pick up truck. He and Mammow would often go to dance parties and dance the night away. It broke my heart when he told me that I would never amount to anything (I had nowhere to live and was staying with my mother at the time.). Those words were the beginning of me wanting something different for my life. This is my absolute all time favorite picture of him. We were cleaning out the flower bed and he worked us to death . . . but he was still going. I won’t tell you what he said after I took the picture, but it was a hard mans’ way of showing love. I love him very much and miss him so that it still hurts. He was my hero.