When Grandma Died

When I was born, my Grandmother told my mother she would live to see be graduate. She almost did.

Even though she was really my aunt, I called her Grandma. She basically raised my mother and took care of me as a baby. I was always close to her and never thought it was strange that I had two grandmothers on one side of my family. I didn’t find out the reality of our relation until I was older, but it never made a difference to me.

It was scary for me when she got older. I never thought about life without her in it. I really got nervous when she was moved into a nursing home because she couldn’t live on her own and started forgetting things and people. But there was something about our bond. So special that she never forgot my name or who I was dispite the Alzheimers. So special that each time I left from a visit with her, there was a knowledge that I would see her again. Even with her going back and forth to the hospital, I knew I would see her again. Until my senior year in high school.

Grandma was back in the hospital, not unlike times past. But there was something different. The moment I walked into that hospital room that night in January 1990 it hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew this would be the last time I would see her alive.

She laid there in that bed with her eyes closed. I don’t know what she knew or didn’t know about who was there to see her. But as my mother and step-father stood beside her bed talking to her, I sat in the corner of the room in stunned silence. I hadn’t experienced a sorrow in my life as deep as that. I didn’t want to believe or accept the finality I knew in those moments. This was my special lady.

It wasn’t until the room was clear that I felt as if I could go to her side. I took her hand and cried like I never had before. I don’t know how long I stood there before I could finally speak to her and tell he how much I loved her. And somehow, by the grace of God, when I could let her hand go I was able to let her go. I knew she would be ok. I don’t know how long it was before the tears stopped that night. But once they were dry, I didn’t cry again - until this moment 19 years later as I think back on that night.

While she didn’t physically see me graduate, I know she was there. I know she’s been cheering me on and watching out for me just like she always did. And I still have po-ke-no, Connect Four, I D-clare War, Dueces, afternoons watching “the stories,” telling her to wake up and her telling we she was just resting her eyes - I have those memories and I know that means I will always have her in my heart.

I do miss her still.