My grandma is a dear woman that I adore and admire. I’ve always loved her but when our connection started is when I lost my first baby to a miscarriage. My grandma has 3 babies in heaven and she has always talked about them. I never understood why she would talk about them, I always felt uneasy hearing her mention them and almost wish she hadn’t. When I lost my baby, I understood. She was the only person that I knew that could give me the counsel that I needed, because she had been there. Oh, the medical profession has come a long, long way. What my grandma had to go through with her stillborn baby was unbelievable and cruel. I suffered depression for many, many months after my miscarriage. It took me almost a month to be able to put a full day in at work.
My grandma lives 2-1/2 hours away, so our communication mostly on the phone. We would talk and she would assure me that she understood, gave me encouragement, and let me know that she was praying for me. She told me to call her anytime, day or night, and that she was praying for me day and at night if she would wake up.
Since then, she has been there for me with all of my ups and downs. We talk all the time on the phone and I try to get down to visit as often as I can, which isn’t enough.
She is 89 years old and up until recently, didn’t have a medical problem at all. This fall, she was diagnosed with cancer in several parts of her body. The doctor didn’t know if she would make it out of the hospital and gave us no real hope. The family has stayed with her 24/7 up until recently when they started letting her stay at home during the day alone and just stay with her at night. I packed up the kids and we spent 3 days with her to relieve my family that lives close by but we just did this one time in October.
On Sunday, my mom called me early in the morning, which isn’t typical of her. I knew my grandma had died. I just knew it. I knew this would happen, that she couldn’t hold on forever with the cancer, but it hurt. Turns out, my mom was calling to let me know she was going to be at our church to surprise us that morning and wanted to know why we were running late. phew! I made plans to see my Grandma on Monday!
Sunday night, I had a horrible stomach flu type thing and didn’t get to sleep until 3:30am. I didn’t want to get my Grandma sick, so I didn’t go.
Last night, I got a call, my Grandma is in the hospital with vomiting, high fever, and stomach pains (one location of the cancer). Oh, the guilt I feel that I didn’t go earlier to see her. I’m making plans to go now.
Growing up and older is hard, facing death of loved ones is not easy, if it were not for my stronghold on God and my family, I could not face what is certainly coming. Death never gets easier, even when the person has ‘lived a good life’, even when you know that person is going to Heaven.
My Grandma is the person that I can confide in, get advice from, and my prayer warrior. She will be missed when her time comes, until then I’m just gonna love her.
