All week I jumped at each phone call or text, thinking that this might be the one that brings the news that she's gone. The waiting--knowing what I was waiting for--and still waiting, was really hard. The rest of my family spent the past week gathered by her bedside, watching as little by little she slipped away. I remained here, waiting for news, wrestling with feeling disconnected, and trying to focus on doing simple, everyday tasks.
I was also faced with the task of preparing three young children for the imminent loss of a loved one. That's a new one for me. It's one thing to have to deal with your own range of emotions, but the emotions of children dealing with grief can really throw you for a loop!
As anyone who loses a loved one feels, I wish we had more time with her. I wish my children would have more memories with her, more memories of her.
I remember when I was a little girl, visiting at her house. It seems like we were over there pretty often--not just for major holidays or celebrations, but for visits for no reason. She always had the good granola bars-- you know, the ones covered in chocolate that my mom would never buy. She also had chocolate covered cookies that we never had at home. And there was something about the buttered toast she made. I know it sounds silly, but no one made better buttered toast than my grandma.
I learned at a young age that my grandma was full of wisdom. I was somewhere around the age of four, and visiting at her house. I decided it would be fun to jump on one of the chairs on her patio. She told me to stop jumping on the chair, or I would fall off and crack my head on the table behind me. But like all other four year olds who are told to stop jumping on fun, bouncy furniture, I kept jumping. The next thing I remembered, there was a very bright light shining in my face. I was at the hospital getting stitches in my head. Why? Because I had fallen off the chair and cracked my head on the table behind me. Grandma was wise.
Grandma also took care of us. It was her house I went to when I was sick and had to stay home from school. I remember laying on her couch watching TV game shows and Gilligan's Island, commercials for DeVry Institute and Empire Carpet, and trying to nap when her mid-day soaps came on. I never did like soap operas.
I remember her downstairs bathroom door had a lock, and there was a key that fit it. I was entertained for long stretches by locking and unlocking that door. Simple things.
She was always firm with us kids. She never spoiled us, but we knew she loved us. Children were expected to behave themselves at her house. And children were also expected to entertain themselves (without a houseful of toys, video games, hand-held devices, or movies on TV) while the adults had grown-up conversations about boring things in the other room. My cousins and I often went down to her basement to play pool or make up dances together and then show them to the adults before we all left.
By the time I was Emma's age, I was close to my grandma's height. (My grandma was short, and I was tall for my age.) My grandma handed down a couple of her sweaters to me. They were my favorite sweaters until I outgrew them. She also gave me one of her metal hair clips when I was a little bit older, which I wore almost every day for years until it broke.
When I was in college, she and my grandpa moved to AZ. But after a few years there, they decided to move back to Chicago, which I was glad about. I wasn't living in the Chicago area anymore, but there was just something comforting about knowing my grandparents would be there to visit when I went home for holidays.
Once I had my own kids, my grandma was always so happy to see them.
We looked forward to bringing our kids to see her, because what parent doesn't love seeing other people enjoy their kids? My girls drew her pictures, wrote her letters, and occasionally made crafts for her, which we would see on a corner of her counter when we would visit. My mom told me grandma would show them to visitors when they came by to see her, even though some of the visitors had no idea who my kids were.
This week, as the kids and I were saddened by thoughts of her slipping away, Ashlyn found a craft in the back of one of her princess books that she asked if we could make. The book showed how to make tissue paper roses, and it said white was for remembrance. So she asked if we could make some white flowers. That afternoon, we made white roses until my fingers couldn't twist anymore pipe cleaners.
It's so hard to say goodbye to someone you love. I'm thankful for all the memories we have with her and for the good last visit we had with her. I'm thankful my children were loved on by her and have memories of her. We love you grandma, and you'll live on in our hearts forever.
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