Life, Death and Mourning

There are two certainties in life:  new life and death.  Babies are born and we rejoice in them.  Loved ones die and we mourn them.  Many people I know, yearly mourn the deaths of loved ones on the dates of their death.  I, on the other hand, mourn those losses at odd times.  Today I mourn the loss of my grandmother.  I do not remember the exact date of her death.  I remember always that it was the weekend of Thanksgiving.  For the first time in my life, it was not grandma that made Thanksgiving dinner but my aunt who'd always lived with her.  My aunt made all the dishes that grandma was "famous" for.  The turkey (overcooked), the jello salads, the stuffing, potatoes and cabbage salad.  It was at grandma's house and the menu was the same, but she was not there.  I'd gone to see her before dinner at the hospital where she was a patient.  It had been a bad day for her.  She was weak and not feeling well.  I remember crying when I left.  Afraid that she would leave us.  She did leave us a couple of days later.  On a day when she was doing well.  It was the one day I hadn't gone to see her.  There was no warning - no call from the hospital that the time was near.  My father and aunt had been to see her and she was chipper and talkative.  We received a call in the evening that she'd passed.  I was devastated.  I hadn't been there.  It took a while for me to understand, but she went that day because I hadn't gone to see her.  Each time she'd talked about being "ready to go", it had been me to tell her that I wasn't ready for that.  That she couldn't leave me.  I held her back.  I wouldn't let her say good-bye or tell her that it was okay to go.

Today I miss her.  I miss her laugh.  I miss her tapping fingers.  I miss her love, her soft skin and the wrinkles on her face.  Every year I remember her birthday, but not the date of her death.  I remember the birthday celebrations - the picnic at the park that she requested for her birthday celebration.  I remember her lawn chair and her request for simplicity in the birthday dinner menu.  I remember her request that I make her the Almond Joy Cheesecake that she loved for her birthday cake.  I remember how for years she would drive to my house to watch my children while I was at work so my husband could continue to golf on his league.  I remember her love for her family.  I remember her old gold car the size of a tank.  I remember the blond brownies she would make for each of us for our birthdays.  I remember her wanting of nothing - her simple requests for little things.  She was never one who wanted for more.  A better, more loving soul has never walked this earth.

I am happy that I am not a person who mourns those lost on the day of their death. I am glad that I remember their birthdays and celebrate them.  I wish that same ability for everyone.  And I hope that someday, when my time here is done, that people  remember me the way that I remember grandma.  With love and joy and memories of all that was good about me.

I miss you GG.  I always will.