My dad called me Friday night to tell me he was flying down to Florida on Saturday. My grandmother was unwell, has been unwell for quite some time now, and he wanted to be with her. Sunday, he called me and told me Grandma would be going into hospice. My grandmother died last night, just hours after my aunt’s flight from Germany made it to the states – she had waited to see her.
Four years ago at this time, my grandmother had a heart attack. The Princess was about to turn one, and every indication we had was that she would not make it much more than a few more months. Hubby and I flew down to Sarasota with The Princess for a visit – to make sure we had gotten to have some time with her. And miraculously enough, she was wonderful. I remember she was bustling around cooking for us, baking for us, wanting to take care of us. And she made it through four more years.
Last summer, she was in Michigan to spend some time at her cottage up north, and the fear then was that she would not live much longer. I was able to take the girls to see her and spend time with her, and get pictures of her with them. She got to see Pumpkin and hold her.
By Christmas, she was unwell. Several small strokes left her struggling to find words. In a phone call, she kept referring to my dad as my grandfather, and finally, dad had to help her find the words to tell me goodbye. Between the strokes and colon cancer, her health has been deteriorating for some time. Having had so many “this is it” moments in the past four years, I guess I didn’t think it would ever happen. My grandmother died exactly a month, to the day, after her sister did.
My grandmother was a loving, warm woman who lived to please people. To her, food is love. The one time I remember her getting upset with me was when she had baked a cake – I didn’t want a piece of it. By refusing her cake, it was as though I was refusing her love. I was a kid, I didn’t get it. I didn’t realize that that was her love language… but I learned.
One summer, she asked my brother what his favorite food was, and he told her macaroni and cheese – so she made him mac and cheese from scratch. And he hated it. He wanted the stuff in the box. She taught me the importance of writing thank you notes. Her molasses cookies were legendary (a cookie company even manufactured her recipe for awhile). She taught me how to bake.
She had a squirrel outside her cottage that she fed daily and she named him Algernon.
We would stay at her cottage and she would be up well before the sun, bustling around in the kitchen. In the evenings, she would sit at the piano and play for us. My family has always been full of music.
My heart hurts today – not just because my grandma died, but that my dad has lost his mother, just days before Mother’s Day.
I’m so sorry for your family. You’re in my thoughts.
I’m so sorry. Big hugs to you & your Dad.
~Lisa
My prayers are with you and your family during this time…
Take Care…
I am so very sorry for your loss. You have beautiful memories of your Grandmother and you express them so well. You and your family will be in my prayers.
Praying for you and your family as you begin the grieving process!
((HUGS))) Thinking of you and your dad this weekend especially.
What wonderful memories you have, and you’ve written about them eloquently. She must have been a lovely woman.