More so than ever, I find myself fearing the journey into the future. I don't seem to like my forties. My history no longer is a living history. My Gran has been gone for many months, yet I hear her voice and her laugh in my head. I hear her tell me that "I do not like it, no I do not" and she spurs me on to do what I must regardless of how difficult the task might be. I remember to maintain her positive outlook of "Living and Giving" but she's not there to hold my face, kiss my forehead and transfer her confidence in me to me. My Aunt Lee is no longer there to fry the taco shells while my Gran makes the taco meat and grates the cheese for the huge family dinners that were boisterous, crowded, and delicious. Birthdays aren't celebrated with Aunt Lee's birthday cakes and Grans bellowing and off-key rendition of Happy Birthday. Graduations aren't punctuated with her smiling pride in her off-spring's accomplishments.
What is missing is her impact on my future, because she's not in my present. My Gran was my emotional reservoir I visited when I needed to regain my peace. Now, I'm flying solo. My oldest is becoming a strong and compassionate leader among her peers with a strong unwavering faith in God, much like my Gran.
My middle is bewilderingly smart, empathetic, and fascinating. For the past year, my big gained an unprecedented independence at college. In a year, both will be gone from my nest and my day to day life. My little soon turns into a teen and it will be just the two of us at home-or rather me struggling to keep up with him as he creates his high school career. 
I find myself fearing the increasing quiet and solitude that is coming. I ask myself if I will fill my time in ways that fill my heart and bring me joy or if I will bury myself in noble pursuits- like work? Will my children desire to spend time with me after working so hard to separate from me as teens? Will I survive not being their first thought and caregiver? 
My large, loud, laughing childhood family of 24 cousins, 13 aunts and uncles, five grandparents, and 24 great aunts and uncles has dwindled to a trickle of people. My cousins are flung across the country; I don't know their children very well, and haven't even met a few of them. My aunts and uncles have grandchildren now, and I am not in the hustle and bustle of their celebrations. I have no grandparents left. My great aunts and uncles can be counted with just a few fingers. My only niece and nephew were "lost" in my divorce. I've gone from a family that needed a small circus tent for family reunions to one that could gather in a motel bathroom with plenty of room remaining.
The changes are part of the journey, I know. I try to accept them with grace but they are difficult. Being alone was never on my "bucket list", after all. My Gran had great faith that everything would work out just the way God planned. I try to follow her lead.
The steps of the last nine months have been a winding and difficult journey navigating unchartered waters without my Gran as my compass. I do not like it, no I do not! But I know she is with me still in the little ways that bring me peace, steer me in the right direction, and keep me on course. I wish her a very happy, heavenly, birthday and I look forward to spending it with my family-whether in a circus tent or the motel bathroom-because gathering to enjoy our family is the greatest gift she gave to me. Happy Birthday, Gran. May we all raise a toast on 7-11!
