Grandma and Grandpa traveled all over the world during their 63 years together. She sprinkled her southern charm worldwide. She genuinely cared about everyone around her. She made people feel like they were enough and that they were treasured and that their story was worth hearing. Talking about her in past tense is heartbreaking.
When Grandma had a stroke last week, I was so mad at myself for living so far away. I went to bed that night cursing the same mountains and golden aspens I was praising hours before…but then I thought about how I got my love of nature, seasons, traveling, and mountains from her. I love that.
She kept snail mail alive and it made any day better. She left the most amazing voicemails and usually ended with “…Grandma” as if she was signing a letter. She kept all of us up to date on what everyone was up to. We loved the same piano music and enjoyed the same books, always having plenty to talk about.
I flew home and held her hand and told her how I want to be just like her, wine at 4pm and all. We sat in the freezing cold Hospice room for a week, and she kept hanging on, hanging on.
Dad said, “And everyone will be thankful to stop hearing ‘where’s my Dixie?’ after two years!”
When I got through security, my mom called to say Grandma passed away peacefully. Thinking about their reunion leaves me completely speechless…