When I started this blog I wondered how I would handle certain special days. The kids’ birthdays, our anniversary, Christmas, etc. Today was never very far from my mind. It never really is.
On this day in 1993, I lost my grandma and best friend (same person) very unexpectedly. On this day, I remember. On this day, I also try to forget.
I try to forget seeing her hooked up to a hundred different machines which were keeping her alive. I try to forget what it was like to sit in that room with my grandfather and my dad and his siblings and listen to that doctor say that they couldn’t detect any brain activity. I try to forget my Uncle Ralphie handing me the trinket he had placed in her hand, saying I needed it more than him (I still have it). I try to forget one nurse saying to another, “Get the smelling salts” when I fell to my knees as they turned those damn machines off. I try to forget that not only were we all sobbing, but so were those wonderful nurses. I try to forget watching my parents tell my siblings the sad news. I try to forget that the florist knew what flowers we should get for the coffin…because she had ordered them so many times for others – always bright spring colors. I try to forget.
So, instead, today I will try to remember. I will tell my children all about her. I will quote her on a regular basis. I will remember that she loved all of her grandchildren and children 100% equally – differently, yes, but always, always equally. Not one of us ever felt that another was more special. I will remember that she sent me a letter nearly every week while I was away at college (I still have all of them from that last year – tear-stained and ragged). I will remember that she was so tickled by the newest babies in the family – my cousins who are now 16(!). I will remember that she gave me more than I deserved and certainly more than I ever gave her.
I have always tried desperately to do something on this day that both honors her in some way and also causes me to remember some of the happy memories. One year we had a barbecue; one year we went through all of her old photographs (she’s the reason, I’m sure, that I take thousands of pictures of my kids); one year we just came together as a big family. So, today, I ask that you join me in what I will now call Family Ice Cream for Dinner Day. Why? Memories. Every Thursday night I had a piano lesson. She drove me there, paid for it, and also took me out for ice cream. Thursday is still my favorite day of the week. So tonight I’m taking my kids to Dairy Queen or maybe I’ll have a make-your-own-sundae bar. I will have a peanut buster parfait (her favorite). And I will tell my kids all about her. All you need to do is remember…
On this day in 1993, I lost my grandma and best friend (same person) very unexpectedly. On this day, I remember. On this day, I also try to forget.
I try to forget seeing her hooked up to a hundred different machines which were keeping her alive. I try to forget what it was like to sit in that room with my grandfather and my dad and his siblings and listen to that doctor say that they couldn’t detect any brain activity. I try to forget my Uncle Ralphie handing me the trinket he had placed in her hand, saying I needed it more than him (I still have it). I try to forget one nurse saying to another, “Get the smelling salts” when I fell to my knees as they turned those damn machines off. I try to forget that not only were we all sobbing, but so were those wonderful nurses. I try to forget watching my parents tell my siblings the sad news. I try to forget that the florist knew what flowers we should get for the coffin…because she had ordered them so many times for others – always bright spring colors. I try to forget.
So, instead, today I will try to remember. I will tell my children all about her. I will quote her on a regular basis. I will remember that she loved all of her grandchildren and children 100% equally – differently, yes, but always, always equally. Not one of us ever felt that another was more special. I will remember that she sent me a letter nearly every week while I was away at college (I still have all of them from that last year – tear-stained and ragged). I will remember that she was so tickled by the newest babies in the family – my cousins who are now 16(!). I will remember that she gave me more than I deserved and certainly more than I ever gave her.
I have always tried desperately to do something on this day that both honors her in some way and also causes me to remember some of the happy memories. One year we had a barbecue; one year we went through all of her old photographs (she’s the reason, I’m sure, that I take thousands of pictures of my kids); one year we just came together as a big family. So, today, I ask that you join me in what I will now call Family Ice Cream for Dinner Day. Why? Memories. Every Thursday night I had a piano lesson. She drove me there, paid for it, and also took me out for ice cream. Thursday is still my favorite day of the week. So tonight I’m taking my kids to Dairy Queen or maybe I’ll have a make-your-own-sundae bar. I will have a peanut buster parfait (her favorite). And I will tell my kids all about her. All you need to do is remember…
When I come to the end of the day,
And the sun has set for me.
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not too long,A
nd not with you head bowed low.
Remember the love we once shared---
Miss me, but let me go.
For this is a journey we all must take,
And each must go alone.
It's all part of the Master's plan,
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go to the friends we know.
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds---
Miss me, but let me go.
Author unknown
3 comments:
I, too, like to forget the last 2 years of my father's life. He died of a cancer called multiple myeloma, but only after he was tortured by needles, tests, radiation, and hospitalization. I try VERY hard to keep only the good memories. I don't want to take up precious brain space with the image of him lying in the hospital bed.
Hugs and good luck to you as you try to make this day a time of good memories and smiles!
Chris
I am so very sorry for your loss. It seems that some things should get easier as time goes on, but somehow the loss of such a beloved individual is never one of them. I think it is wonderful that you have such strong memories of her and that you are sharing them with your children - and that you honor her passing in such a special way. My thoughts will be with you today.
I hope today was special for you and that you enjoyed your ice cream!
Keep telling your kids the stories of her, so they'll never forget.
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