I knew as soon as Jonathan nudged me awake and said, "Ali, your phone is ringing." I fought off sleep and grasped for the buzzing phone, dropped it because it was plugged in, and finally reached down and picked it up. But I was too late, the call had ended. Immediately I called back to my Dad's cell phone number, only to hear my Mum on the line. I knew what she was going to say before she even said a word, but the words didn't really register when she told me that Grandma had died about half an hour earlier.
My brother texted a couple minutes after I got off the phone with my Mum, asking if he could come over for a little bit. When he walked in, he gave me a big, puffy-coat-ed hug. We sat in the living room and talked, a little bit about our sadness, but mostly about logistics for when and how to leave for the funeral.
When he left, I got on my computer for the first time since Friday night. I had a backlog of e-mails and blog posts on my Reader that I worked to catch up on. Then I got a new e-mail notification. It was from one of the elders (via the pastor) at my home church with my grandmother's name in the subject. I clicked to read the e-mail and that's when reality sunk in. Seeing the words in black-on-white, carefully and lovingly written to both inform and give hope to our church family, my eyes misted over and my throat tightened.
Yes, my beloved Grandma died this morning, after struggling long weeks to stay alive and spend more time with those she loved. But I know that she is just resting in Jesus, waiting in peace now until He comes again. And oh how I want to be there right beside her on that resurrection day!