A precious moment

Yesterday was a difficult day, as we buried my sweet gramps. My gramma was not suprisingly having a very hard time, but for her, that means mentally checking out and visiting dementia land. Even the simplest of tasks became mountains to overcome when getting her ready and I knew we would do well to get her through the service. I made a difficult decision to not bring her to the cemetery for the internment. I had been watching her at the church service and knew it was already too much.
I am grateful for the opportunity to be the one that organized and oversaw all of the details for papaw's funeral, and grateful that I could be the one that those around me looked to for direction. But a small selfish part of me wanted more of that day to allow me to do my own grieving.
It was good to be around my family and I cherish every relationship I have. I am grateful for my best friend, who stepped in to do whatever I needed doing, and grateful for the people who came to pay their respects.
One of the still small blessings that touched me most deeply yesterday was the love and affection of a seven year old who clung to me in some of my most difficult moments.
My sweet precious Emma ran up to me many times during the course of the day to hug me and remind me that she, too was here to love and support me. I held myself together pretty well most of the day, but I also knew that I was going to have the honor of recieving my gramps flag at the internment and I wasn't so sure I would hold myself together. My sweet, sweet girl made sure to sit next to me during the internment and reached out to hold my hand and at some point wrapped herself around me with yet another comforting hug. It touched my heart in a way that words cannot even describe. I remember looking at her precious little freckled face and into her deep blue eyes and thanking God for showing himself a place I did not expect to find him yesterday. I will carry those most precious moments close to my heart.