My Grandma is my Angel

by Unknown 11:32 PM 0 comments

I miss so much. I miss coming downstairs to see her eating cold McDonald's cheeseburgers. I miss playing the piano with her, or even just listening. I miss working on the dollhouse. I miss making ice cream in a coffee can on the porch. I miss watering the flowers. I miss playing cards with her. I miss making apple betty with her, and I can never get it to taste the same. I miss decorating the Christmas tree, and setting up the village. I miss looking through catalogs. I miss her putting my hair up in rags, to make it as curly. I miss helping her set her curlers. I miss watching the news with her. I miss her singing, though she couldn't hear herself. I miss stealing the comics out of her newspaper. I miss the bleeding heart bush, and the fairy stories she told. I miss sleeping in her bed, and the bedtime stories she would tell. I miss how she complained about the puppies. I miss how much she loved Sassy. I miss how she was beginning to hear. I miss everything. I feel like I'm forgetting, and I don't want to forget. I'm crying, and for the first time in awhile, I'm going to let myself cry over how much I miss her.

Three years ago today began the worst week of my life. I was pulled out of school and escorted home by the police officer. I had no idea what was going on, the officer would not tell me. I arrived at my house to see dozens of people standing outside... My brain could still not process. I saw my dad, and I knew. We cried and cried and cried. I remember my dad sobbing as he asked if I knew what had happened, through my tears I said I said no... At that point, I couldn't fathom what the cause was, but I didn't want to hear it. A family friend took me to my mom's house, where I could see my mom and sister, who brought me back to the house - and stayed with us there. The pain was excruciating. The unbelievable loss. No one had seen it coming. How could we? My grandmother was gone, and no one could have predicted it. The week was a haze and felt like it would never end - family, friends, food, the funeral home, the cemetery, more people, more food. There was a non-stop flow of people through the door. There was no quiet time to process what had happened. Jon - he was my rock through all of this, for me and my dad.

My grandma is my angel. I am not a religious person. I don't believe in the religion I grew up being told to believe, but I don't not believe.  I pray everyday that there be a heaven, if only for my grandmother. I picture her sitting with her husband that she lost more than 30 years before she went to join him, wherever that may be. I hope that she is happy. Every time I make a decision, I wonder what she would think of me now. Before she died, I was supposed to be headed for college, then med school. What would she have thought of my decision to stay in DuBois? My decision to major in IST? I missed her at so much - my high school graduation, my first college graduation, my engagement, and then my wedding... I've worn the pearls she got me for my 16th birthday through out every major event, because it makes her feel closer to me. I hope somewhere, she's looking down on me, and she's proud of the person I've become.