Grandma

Let me take a moment and talk about grief.

Just a little over 2 months ago my wonderful grandma passed away. She was a healthy 92 year old who had been living on her own since my grandpa died 10 years ago.

God's timing is perfect. My uncle who lives in Idaho came to town and was staying with her the day of her accident. As I said, she lived alone...so the fact my uncle was in her home in the morning...complete blessing...

To sum it up she had a brain bleed, ended up in the hospital, and for the next 5 days my entire family (all 25 of us) gathered together to be with my grandma as she slipped into what we think was more of a comatose state. It was painful, emotional, but also so wonderful to be able to be together laughing, praying, crying, and singing.

Family was everything to my grandparents. They loved all of us being together. The staff in the ER and hospice reassured us that she could still hear us even when she was unresponsive, so we knew she loved the laughter, church hymns, and stories we shared together.

She passed away on February 25th.

My dad and his older sister, my sister, and me were there when she passed. It was such a peaceful moment to witness. I wasn't scared when she died which shocked me. I actually found myself grateful to be able to witness her passing. We said the Lord's prayer over her with the hospice chaplin and a nurse.

...her funeral was the following Saturday, about two weeks before Covid-19 shutdown happened.

Again, a total blessing. God's timing is always perfect in retrospect.

It's funny to me how life moves forward. It's been over 2 months now and I still feel like she's around. Probably due to the fact that we can't actually gather as a family, and our churches are closed so the normal times I would see her aren't even happening.

But wow do I miss her. I remember when she first was moved to hospice and the giant clan of us moved with her up to her room. I began looking through my phone cleaning things out and I came across my voicemails (as you do, you listen and don't delete then your vm is full blah blah blah). Turns out, young me saved some messages from my grandma from over 8 years ago when I first moved to California for college. I began listening to her voicemails (which were a rarity, she hated leaving messages) and what started as laughter soon turned to tears, followed by more laughter.

I feel like death teaches us many things. Raw, untouchable pain that looks different every week, day, and hour. Sometimes it's laughter, sometimes it's full out sobs, sometimes it's complete numbness. I think it helps us regroup and realize that people in our lives truly impact us. When they are alive we don't think about the things we wish we could ask them, we just have normal "how are you" conversations. After someone you love dies, your mind opens this chest of questions that you would give anything to ask them. Or when big moments happen you quickly realize how much you wish you could call them up to share the news with them. Instead you are left imaging how they would respond and somehow that makes your heart reopen the grief wound all over again.

I know that this is life's way of showing you how precious life truly is but my goodness is it painful. That gut wrenching feeling of "Oh goodness, they aren't here, they really aren't here...I know they aren't but they are actually gone. Truly gone...".

I'm grateful to have been given a grandma like her. She never said she loved us but you knew she did. She showed it through her telling you she missed you at church, or that she didn't want to know that you were off gallivanting around Europe because it made her worry. Her 92 year old self would pick raspberries from her garden and give them to her family. She made me a quilt right after my grandpa died and let me pick out the fabric. When my parents were out of town she would invite my sisters and me over for dinner because she didn't want our 20 something selves to go hungry. And she always said "Well, good!" or "Oh, you are???"  When she was over the moon about something exciting that happened to you.

My sister sent me a video that she took in December when we made Krumkake with her. I had no idea she had filmed us. It's a video of my grandma laughing at me trying not to spill milk as I brought it over to the mixer. She finished her laughter with a "You made it!" remark as I poured the milk in. I have watched it over and over and over. If it was a VHS tape I think the tape would begin to wear out. It always makes me smile and boy oh boy am I grateful to have that tiny snippet of her.

As time marches forward and people return to their lives, grief seems to cloud over with shadows of darkness. That's just how it goes. It's okay. Cry it out, dance it out, laugh it out, and cry it out some more.