I lost my Gram a month ago. I didn’t want to write about it, here, or anywhere. I don’t like talking about it. I don’t like thinking about it. But it happened. And I have to be honest in saying I was blessed to have her and share my life with her as long as I did. But it wasn’t long enough.
She was sick. She was struggling with many digestive issues. We thought we had it under control. We were all trying to visit and spend time with her to keep her company while we were sure she would get better.
I was overdue for a visit. I planned one week to get up there but wasn’t sure which day. Until I took my fourth and fifth pregnancy tests. It was a Tuesday. I was late. I had already taken a few and they all came back negative yet I was still feeling like it wasn’t right. So I came home and took another…and it was positive. I took the second one that came in the box, because why not, and it was also positive. I decided that was the day to visit. I had to tell my Gram.
I left work and drove straight to her house. Sat on the couch next to her as she wrapped herself in the blanket I just bought her last Christmas. She looked weak, yet she was so happy to see me. I shared the news first because I couldn’t wait any longer. Her tears came quick and her expression was one that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than pure joy. She told me how she’d prayed for me, for Andy and for God to give us a baby that she could hold before anything happened to her. I told her she was the first to know…literally…before Andy. She took great pride in that and we continued our conversation.
We never stopped holding hands. The whole hour and half we talked she just held my hand. I got up to get her some water at one point and we immediately resumed our position. After a while I left wanting to get home and give Andy the news.
I spoke to my grandmother one other day after that. My sister, husband and I went up to work on her yard. She tried to joke with us but quickly went up to rest as everything was taking a toll on her. The conversation we shared while I sat on that couch with her…that was our goodbye. I feel like we both almost knew that.
It was shortly after the yard work visit that she went in for surgery and never left the hospital again.
It has been over a month. And I can’t finish this post. I don’t want to.
I put one of my pregnancy test in her coffin. I can’t explain the sadness I have at her not holding my baby. We will be together again one day. Of that I am confident. But that thought does not ease the hurt.
I’m reminded every day of her and miss her every time. I value my own relationship with my mother thinking of how blessed we are to still have each other. I will do my best to make my grandmother proud and I will tell my baby about a kind soul that will watch over him/her every day.
I can’t write about this anymore.