Grandma

I wrote recently about my grandma's battle with cancer and how sucky it was. She lost the fight on June 7. It was time. But before this thing showed up, I thought she was going to be around forever. And if not forever, at the very least until her 100s. She was so healthy. And whatever health issues had cropped up until this point, she had beaten. I should have had way more visits with her still ahead. But I didn't. And it's not about me anyway.

I can't remember if I wrote about this but when I visited California in September for my other grandma (Helen)'s 100th birthday party, my grandma Mary and aunt Donna came out to my parents' house for dinner on Sunday, the day after the party. (photo, above) We visited and chatted as usual. For a few minutes I sat alone with Grandma while someone else (probably Donna :) took care of Polly. She held my hand and we talked. I don't remember what we talked about. Just normal stuff. She asked how I was, I asked how she was. The main thing I remember is the closeness and that she held my hand while we talked.

I saw her again in December; I can't find pictures of that but my mom probably took some. That visit was less intimate. I had all 4 of my kids with me because Matt was working in LA that day. There had been torrential rain all day and I had gotten stuck in it on the way. Then I knew I needed to get back on the road before afternoon traffic hit. So we were only at her house for about an hour. It was a nice visit, just quick. I remember she commented on Polly sucking her thumb. She was slowly starting to slip a little, though. It wasn't the same kind of visit that we'd had 2 months earlier.

OK, now I'm getting teary (which I have done more often than usual, the past few months). This picture (above) is from my visit to California in May for my niece Ara's farewell. Hannah and Robbie and Rhoda and Polly and I spent a couple of hours at Grandma's house on Saturday afternoon. Some of the visit was a little awkward but I felt like I was pretty much prepared for anything. She smiled and talked with us. Hannah and I talked to her together, then Robbie had some time, then Hannah and I each had some time. I held her hand the whole time I sat with her. Grandma was very uncomfortable but she was pleasant and not agitated. She was able to speak a few times. Her pain and discomfort got worse toward the end of our visit and she said, "I'm sorry I feel so crummy." I said, "Don't be sorry. I wish you felt better. Grandma, I live too far away to see you very much but I think about you every single day. I pray for you. I love you so much." She said, "I know you do."

When it was time to go I hugged her and kissed her and told her I loved her.

The fact that I got to see her again before she died was a tender mercy from heaven to me. Mind you, she didn't need that visit from me. She was drowning in visitors. But I needed it, or at least I really wanted it. It's not hard at all for me to be one of her 57 grandchildren. But I imagine it's hard at times to be grandmother to 57. (And mother to 12, and great-grandmother to 126.) She always made me feel special, even though I was one of dozens.

I realize also that part of my distress when I learned about this cancer was the stark reminder that we live so far from our families. It's easy to judge people who move away from their families--after all, we are the ones who moved away. Right? But when I was 23 years old, the world was wide open. We could do anything. (And we did do anything: we moved across the country with no jobs and no insurance and no money and I was pregnant with Theo. Idiots...) What I knew at the time was that Utah and California--the only places we had ties--didn't have any good jobs for us, and DC looked much more promising. I didn't think about how I would feel 10 years later when we had 4 kids and my own father was creeping up on the age his father was when he died. Gosh darn it. Well, that option of moving west is still there. Like it always has been for the past 10 years. Maybe one of these times we'll grab an opportunity. Maybe one of these times an opportunity will appear to be grabbed.

I'm grateful not only for those brief visits at the end of her life but for all the visits, 33 years' worth, that I can't count. It was a blessing to grow up close to her. She was a strong and faithful person. I always knew she loved me. I want to be more like her in so many ways.