Son Up to Son Down

This past week my grandma passed away. She was 91, so it really was a blessing that she was able to leave her earthly body, as she had suffered multiple strokes in her last several years of life. When I was a sophomore in high school she had her first major one — that was almost 17 years ago. It’s been over half of my life that she had been dealing with the after effects and sadly I feel like I mourned the grandma I knew as a child a long time ago.

I spent so many Sundays at their house after church where she would make me decaf coffee and throw in a scoop of ice cream. I would eat lunch with her and my grandpa on game days and spent countless nights on their pullout couch watching The California Raisins. She taught me piano lessons until I was in seventh grade, taught me how to do cross-stitch, how to make egg noodles and strawberry rhubarb pie and paid me a quarter for every handkerchief of my grandpa’s that I ironed. I would sit by her in church and we would pass little notes back and forth and I would admire and try to replicate her beautiful cursive writing. My brother and I had the chance to go with them to Branson and Nashville, staying in their fifth wheel as we ventured east — a trip I will never forget.

My grandma was the most warm, patient and loving person I ever knew. She cared for and loved her family deeply, especially her grandkids. She never missed an event and always made sure you knew how proud of you she was. She was firm in her faith and her positive attitude was contagious. My grandma was giving and kind. She would slip you a homemade cookie or a slice of bread every chance she got. Her hugs were a cure all.

What makes me the most sad about my grandma is that my husband and my kids never got to know her like I did. My sons have all met her and we would visit her at assisted living or in the nursing home when we could. Adorably, they called her “Grandma Grape” because “Great Grandma” became “Grandma Great” and eventually “Grandma Grape.” I love to share stories of her with them and things my grandma and I used to do together. And while I wish they could have met the grandma I grew up with, I feel very fortunate that they will get to experience my grandma through my mom — she’s just like her.

While I am sad to lose my grandma, she is in a far better place than anywhere on earth would have had in store for her. She was a blessing to me and to all of us who loved her and I know one day I will see her again. Love you lots, Grandma. Until we meet again.