Dear Grandma… 10 Years Later

Note: This is one of the most personal posts I’ve written about working through loss. I do discuss the death of a grandparent and I wanted to put a disclaimer in case this is triggering or cause you to cry in public because grandmothers are the best. 

Most of my grandparents have passed away. I still have an amazing 95 year old Grandfather who wakes up every day, goes and picks up a dog that he dog-sits for EVERY day, rides around with it and farms full-time. I come from a long line of stubborn and strong genes. I also grew up incredibly lucky that I had all of my grandparents within 20 minutes of me. I grew up seeing them weekly. I grew up not realizing that someday they wouldn’t be there, because they were just always there. I had no idea that at one point, I would be working through loss and sadness.

My Dad’s mom passed away first. I was young and knew she was in bad health. Really, I only knew her when she was declining. Never did I have the chance to know the grandmother my sisters knew.  What I saw was a very fragile version of an amazing mind and woman that was being taken away from me by Alzheimer’s. All I knew was she was forgetful. I knew what it was called but I didn’t process it.

When she passed away, in the moment I knew it was for the best. I knew that she would be in so much pain if she was alive, but I’d never had a grandparent die. Because she was in such a state of decline, when I saw her in the casket, I didn’t recognize her. Somehow, she had more color and looked so at peace in her death that I almost felt guilty that I wanted her alive. My sisters told me what I saw was the version of her that they knew. I had a hard time not being jealous of them, because they knew her. They knew HER, not the version of her that I had due to illness.

I Wish I Could Tell You…

Do you remember that C.D. you started for me when I was a child? Do you remember telling me it was for college?  I paid for my first semester of junior college classes with that. 

You told me you wanted me go to college and it was important I studied. I graduated Grandma and I thought of you as I walked down the hill to graduate at KU.

Do you remember how you used to say Santi-eeee Clause? I’d give anything to hear you say that, even though I thought it was embarrassing as a child. 

Do you remember those cinnamon things you’d make with leftover pie crust? I pretended to like them because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I’d eat them again if I could have those and the terrible tea you used to have. 

Every time I see a pink sugar wafer, I think of you.

Your pies are legendary and I wish I would have known your secret.

I still have the tea set you got me at Silver Dollar City. I will never give that up.

Did you know I really love polka dots too?

Grandpa still talks about you at holidays. He knows how much you loved Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer. He says he misses you. Old ladies flirt with him, but he never blinks. He just talks about you.

Years later, my other grandma died. I was older, I worked through the stages of grief and understanding what I needed. Internally, I knew it was time. Suddenly it hit me though. If I ever had children, they wouldn’t meet two women that I admired and helped shape me. I feel like there’s a hollow space in me that I can never fill because there’s no one I can introduce you to.

I thought I had worked through my feelings and processed the grief. Realistically, I was much better set-up for the second death because I had gone through the shock of the first.  Then last Christmas I felt a wave of grief like it had happened yesterday. I’m still feeling it and everything reminds me of both of you. It was your favorite holiday.

The Good Memories Stand Out

I have the good memories, but they feel like they are fading fast. The beguine are what feel like defining moments. I see little things and they send me to tears thinking about how I want to share with you. Working through loss is never easy, but I’m beginning to see the good tears instead of the bad.

I’m not going to beat myself up for holidays being hard without you. I have many sweet memories of Christmas and Easter. My grandmas were thankfully very understanding and knew each other and let each other shine at at their favorite holiday.

I cry randomly with a specific cry that only can be described as bitter sadness. I used to stop myself but now I let myself cry it out. I set a time that I allow myself to be sad but always end on a good memory. A thought about how I will remember her and how I can see her in my life.

The Holidays Have a New Meaning

My Mom’s mom was into Easter. I always think of her and her ham and the way she loved the Easter egg hunt. My Dad’s mom was obsessed with Christmas. One of the reasons I went 1,000% into Christmas last year was to celebrate her memory and what it meant to her. This Easter, I’m looking forward to smelling the ham I won’t eat because I don’t like it but it’s sentimental. Reese’s Easter eggs because we all know those are the best, per my Mom and Grandma.

But Most of All…

I miss both of you. I never thought I would be struggling with losing you 10 years later. But it’s part of my process to heal and remember the good. I wish I could know you hear me when I talk to you. Are you proud of me? What did you think I’d be doing when I turned 27?

I miss you.