I miss my Grandma. I don't write about her often because I usually just end up sobbing. I feel so grateful that the boys have 2 sets of Grandparents that love them as much as I was loved by my Grandma. I wish I would have made sure to visit her more then I did. I wish that I would have called more just to talk to her, instead of taking for granted that I would see her at the next birthday party or Christmas. Christmas. I miss her the most at Christmas. I think because I have such a hurtful and strained relationship with my other grandmother that the fact that she isn't there at the McLaughlin Christmas is deeply felt for me.
My Grandma did not think I was perfect. And I got in trouble sometimes with her. But I never for one second felt unloved by her. In fact before the wedding, when I wasn't sure who of my family members were going to show up, I called her. I was crying and I asked her if she was going to be there. And she said, "Oh honey. There is absolutely nothing that could ever make me not be there." (Dammit. Sobbing again.) And in that moment I was once again reminded that no matter what mistakes I may make, she had my back.
Her last week or so in that hospital, I showed up. As often as I could. And I stayed as long as I could. I wanted her to know I was there. That I had her back too. I said everything I needed to say to her. I brought Aid to her almost every time I came. I desperately needed her to know that despite all my failings as her granddaughter that I loved her. More then I could ever tell her, though I tried. I was late on the day they were going to remove her tubes. I don't remember why. I think I just had a 1 year old and I was a mess. But I was late. And I ran into the room so afraid that I had missed my last chance. And she turned and looked at me. I know she saw me. I know she did. And I got to say good-bye. It was a deep deep loss for me, as it was for others. And I find myself talking to her all the time. Especially when things are rough. And I always feel like I can hear her respond. I can hear her say, "Honey it will all be ok." I know that sounds silly.
As I was putting up the holiday decorations I realized how much I have collected from her. She's everywhere in my home. She's in the owl mugs my children drink hot cocoa out of. She's in the owl vase my sister got for me. She's in the hand knitted wreaths that hang on my wall. Owl Christmas ornaments hang from my tree. I cry every time I see the box that holds them with her handwriting. My house may not look like an elegant Christmas display out of a magazine. But she's here, everywhere I look and it brings me comfort. I hope she knows how often she crosses my mind. I hope she's rolling her eyes at my owl tattoo. I hope she is smiling when I tell the boys that my Grandma made this.
Merry Christmas Grandma. I love you.
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