She Said, "I Love You"

I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it. Every time my grandma doesn't remember me, it feels like the first time all over again. For some reason I keep thinking, "Maybe this time she'll recognize me, maybe she'll remember more." But every time she gives me that look, I realize I'm a stranger again. I immediately feel vulnerable, broken, like I want to run and hide from her - like I'm not sure I can keep loving like this. I feel like it's just too sad, it hurts too much, and honestly...like it would be easier to just forget her, too.

But how can I forget? How can I withdraw my love, simply because it hurts? I never imagined I'd see her like this...but I love her and to me, she's unforgettable.

I wonder how often Jesus feels that way about me...

Being with Grandma - it may be the closest I'll ever come to understanding how Jesus felt when He was "moved with compassion" for people. Not that I've never felt compassion before, but this one hits close to home. It very well may be the most uncomfortable, vulnerable, personally-painful, I'd-rather-avoid-it-if-I-could suffering I've ever been invited to step into. I feel the "moved with compassion" churning inside when I'm with my Grandma. Comfort would tell me to avoid it, ignore it, walk away and let others handle it.

But she is mine. I love her. I painfully love her. Though everything inside of me wants to hide and cry, somehow from the inside out I am moved toward her, not away. My hands want to touch her, my arms want to hold her, my smile wants to affect her, my eyes want to remind her that whether she 'knows me' or not, she is loved. She matters. She is remembered.

Thank God for the grace to move toward the uncomfortable brokenness of true communion. Walking in it, I'm not just finding her...I'm finding Him.

This week with Grandma, she didn't remember again. Not only did she not recognize me, but I think for the first time, the name "Tara" was no longer familiar. But Grandma, she's still mine. I keep smiling and eventually, she smiles too. I keep touching her, and eventually she reaches for me, too.

This week she gave me yet another favorite memory. I asked her if she wanted some water. She looked at me intently and said, "Are you an angel?" I laughed and repeated, "Do you want some water?" She replied, "Oh, ok, you're just a friend." Grandma has always called me her "Angel"...maybe she does remember a bit. Sitting together I rubbed her arm and smiled as she just stared, searching my face. Her eyes lit up like she had a revelation:

"I love you," she said.

Grandma forgot me, but she remembered love. I suppose we can forget many things in life, even those most important to us. But love is unforgettable. Love is inescapable. Love will never return void. So let not our love grow cold, let it not evaporate in the ache or be hidden in the darkness. Embrace the discomfort, move forward in compassion...love well.