I sit in Moe’s parking lot waiting for jeff when to get out of court.
I am so upset and frustrated knowing that when I go home to say goodbye to my gramma, my family is already fighting and at war. It’s a really odd concept that my family would still choose to be angry with each other after they lost someone and realize how precious life is, and yet they feel entitled to tomorrow. I am going for my gramma. I am going because she is someone who made a huge impact on my life. I am going because I didn’t get to be there when she passed away, to say goodbye. I waited too long. I took time for granted and for selfish reasons did not call her in time. When I did call her, it was too late. She couldn’t talk. Was that my punishment or reality check for the fact that I too always thought I could call her “tomorrow” ? When tomorrow came, it was too late. Tomorrow decided that it was not going to be kind to me. Tomorrow decided that I waited too long and now I would not have to wait anymore, but I would learn a lesson about waiting for tomorrow and grieve the loss of a chance to have that final conversation with my grandmother. Had I known my last conversation was going to be my last conversation I would have said more than I did. I would have told her I loved her more that I already had. I would tell her why again and again. I would tell her that I was the lucky and blessed one to have her in my life. To have her to help raise me during one of the most difficult times in a teens life. I would have memorized her laugh, her words, her tone. I would have made sure that the conversation would continue for as long as I could. I would have put everything else on hold and focused solely on that conversation. I knew she was dying. I knew she was not well. I didn’t know I wouldn’t have one more chance though. I had it in my head what I would have said, but I didn’t pick up the phone to tell her…until it was too late.
To say my heart is broken is an understatement. To say I am sad is just a quarter of what I am feeling. I am angry I didn’t call her. I am sad I didn’t tell her how I felt and how much I loved her again. I know I told her, I know she knew, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t have heard it again. It doesn’t mean I didn’t selfishly want to hear her words to me. I still can not believe she is gone. That when I go to her house she wont be there. That she wont be sitting at her table watching her shows. Or sitting in her chair watching her shows or napping. She wont be feeding the neighborhood squirrels left overs. My father and uncle once said she fed the squirrels better than she did them. Maybe that should have told them something. My grandmother loved with all of her heart. She stuck true to her beliefs and her faith and never let anyone shake that. This was inspiring. To have people tell her there is no God and to listen to their reasoning, she would simply say she was sorry they felt that way. She did not judge. She did not treat people unkind. Regardless of how she was treated, she treated people the way she felt people should be treated. She felt people should be treated with kindness and also love regardless of how people acted or what they believed. She did have times that she did get angry and decide it was for the best that she no longer had contact with them. That was her right. And this was also a way that she was able to not speak ill of them or to fuel and hatred. This is something that takes dedication. it takes practice. It is something I still struggle with.
Today I struggle with her being gone. With her no longer being able to laugh at something I say, or call me baby girl. I struggle that she suffered so much at the end and while I wanted the Lord to take her home, I selfishly wanted her healed and back with us. She never once wavered at the thought of dying. She was certain she would go when it was her time and there was no use worrying about it. This is also something I am in awe of. To have faith so strong that she did not bat an eye when it came to the lord taking her home. Something I cried about and probably others too, she would tell us she was ready when ever the lord felt it was her time. She seemed to treat her impending death as if it weren’t anything to be concerned about, but something that was just another part of life. Which it is. But for those of us , left behind, grieving her loss, but also being happy she is at peace, it is an uncomfortable part of life we could not see the same way she did. It left a void. A hole. A pain so sharp it felt like our hearts literally broke.
I know I have an angel watching over me now, and I know I will see her again someday, but the pain is still raw. The loss is still painful. The tears are still being shed. She is a woman I could never forget, and an angel I will always have. And I truly thank god for that.
xoxo – Amber