I had to write about it…I mean, it’s what I do. I blog. I blog my life, the life around me and in this instance…a life missed.
A year ago today, my grand-kween (as I’ve grown fond of calling her) left this plane for a more heavenly one. I remember the day so vividly. Waking up lethargically…not wanting to go into work. Sitting on the side of my bed, wondering how she was doing in the hospital and trying to wait for a good time to call my dad to check in on her. As I sat there feeling dismal with the dread of what I already knew…my sister called. She’d called the job thinking I’d gone in and decided to try the cell. She was on her way to get me because dad had called and asked us to come soon. The doctors weren’t expecting her to make it.
I began dressing and when sis got to the house…we left for Mt. Vernon.
When we got there…she was gone. I went to her bed where she laid…her chest still moving from the machines (to keep her viable until the family had seen her) and all I could do was hold her. I held her and cried the hardest cry to date. I choked on tears and pain and didn’t want to let her go…but, I did.
I’d done so two days before. I sat and spoke to her spirit and told her she could go. 81 years is a grand and beautiful age at which to go out. 8+1=9…which is a number of completion…divine. (Think 9mos of pregnancy or the 9 numbers)
She was inspirational and loving. She had a hearty laugh and a sassy attitude. She’s made her mistakes, but still lived as best as she could without apology. She raised her kids and she held them down no matter what. She was a pillar of the community and helped many through her job at the city hall of our hometown. To sit in her funeral, March 8th, 2010…and hear so many speak of her as I knew her and MORE…was a wonderful way for her to cast off and transcend.
I am proud to be her grandbaby. Her “Baby Love”. Her “Monkey”. (the buck stops THERE…you will NOT laugh at the other name she had for me) LOL
I love you, Grandma…I miss you…and I pray that I make you proud in the way I’m living. Hopefully, I’ll see you one day not too soon.
**I’m changing this pic as soon as my dad gives me another one 🙂
I’ve got to blog this out before I implode…picture to come later…
Yesterday on March 2nd, 2010, between 1 and 2pm…my paternal grandmother, Josephine…died.
To say I’m devastated to my core, is an understatement. To say that my heart and soul physically aches…is speaking lightly. Yes, she was my favorite person in the world. I love my mom and dad…yet, the truth is that growing up…when their relationship was unstable and I felt lost as a child…she was an anchor. I learned love…how to love, how to receive love, how to be a lady and how to be cherished. I got that from my grandmother, who never let a day pass when we were together without saying, “I love you”.
She called me Baby Love…among other names throughout my childhood. (I will not share them just so you all can laugh at me, lol). I have some GREAT memories of my grandmother. I learned to love coffee because of her. She wouldn’t give me my OWN, but she’d give me a few sips here and there. (In her beer drinking days…I’d steal sips of her Miller) LMAO
Her and my mom’s oatmeal run neck in neck. Perfect consistency with applesauce and every now and again…raisins. She ALWAYS had cake mix and on demand would make one for me. She had the private stash of Krasdale sodas (what you know about that?) and indulged my love of novelty cereals. I was telling my girl, Joy…that my grandmother would prepare a picnic for my friends and I. We lived in the projects in Mt. Vernon, NY…in an era where it was perfectly fine for your kids to play and be safe. My grandma would make me Kool-Aid (the red flavor) and put it in a jar. Make PB&J’s cut into fours, give us carrot and celery sticks, Twinkies and pop-tarts…all to sit under her window on a blanket behind the benches. She’d watch as we had a blanket party and played with our dolls.
She was the only person I knew for the longest who made scratch rolls, that were so good…she had requests throughout the buildings for them. She made her spaghetti and meatballs with her own homemade sauce and she kept Parmesan cheese because I wouldn’t eat it without it. She was the beginning of my love of cooking.
My grandmother was my best friend. She was understanding and nurturing. She’d give me the truth, but she’d also support my decisions. When I was in a relationship no one else agreed with, she supported me and embraced my ex. To this day, he loved her dearly…and she him. She’d always tell me when she saw him and spoke so sweetly of him. She knew that keeping me at arm’s length would only alienate me and she couldn’t keep an eye on me. Even at 37, she was constantly trying to give me money and considered me her baby.
Sadly, the stress and strain of trying to take care of her elderly uncle (who was more like a brother) took it’s toll. Her heart gave way to two attacks and her lungs to pneumonia. Severe dehydration and thickened blood made it hard for her frail frame to recuperate. I know she fought as much as she could…but, as she’d told me when we spoke the day before she went into ICU…she was tired.
One day, I wont cry until my chest heaves and my breath shortens. One day, I will think of her name and only smile instead of cry. One day, I will get through a night without tossing and turning. Today…I miss my grandmother like crazy. Today…I’m a baby girl without her precious grandmother.
I love you SO much, grandma. Be at peace. Be my angel.
Love, your Baby Love.