I guess I've kept pretty busy since I got back from Guatemala, so my blog is somewhat inconsistent. I always say I'll try to do better about that. Maybe I can just skip this intro...
How do you say goodbye to someone you have known all your life? My Gramma Nancy passed away today a little before 4:00. The last time I saw her, she didn't want to take a picture with me. I urged her to anyway, and she conceded. I'm glad I'll be able to remember her like that...even if it was a year and a half ago.
You see, Gramma lived in Peoria, IL, so I am nowhere near her. My family usually visits Illinois once or twice a year: Christmas and the 4th of July. But this past year has been a bit strange. I was in Guatemala over the 4th of July, and we stayed in Louisiana this Christmas. How do I keep from hating myself for not calling her this year on her birthday? I was in the midst of finals, but I could have taken 15 minutes to call her and tell her how much I love her. But I didn't...and I didn't call her after that. I never said goodbye.
I was afraid to say goodbye. After Grampa died in December 2010, I thought that if Gramma made it a year, she'd never die. I didn't want to admit that I would be losing someone I have known for over 21 years. Losing Grampa Wayne was so hard that I didn't want to imagine losing anyone else.
What I hate the most is how these deaths are affecting Daddy and his six siblings. How do you face losing your parents? I don't even want to think about losing mine. The pain is so acute, so real. I can feel my pulse in my temples and chest and throat--the life that is in the blood. I don't feel guilty for being alive, but I do feel very aware of my life. Each breath and each heartbeat reminds me that I have purpose; I am also reminded of my mortality. Everything seems so urgent, but the best thing I can do is slow down--just to remember her for a moment.
Some of my favorite things:
Gramma Nancy's cards were the best. I had no idea what she was talking about half the time, but she would never forget my birthday. Sometimes she sent me cards just because. I still have them.
Gramma always had something to eat...even if you didn't want it. "Do you want some ham and beans?" :)
In July of 2009 when we were taking a picture at Avanti's, Grampa Wayne was holding his sandwhich wrapped in foil to take home. Gramma told him like 18 times to put it down for the picture. In the picture, he's beaming with his sandwhich, and she's kind of smiling--frustrated at his disobedience.
She was the proudest parent and grandparent. She loved seeing all of Dad's adventure gear and hearing about Jessica's trips and my academics and Derek's music and Josh's atheletic endeavors.
I have a picture of her and Grampa Wayne when I was fairly young. She's giving herself bunny ears. I still smile every time I look at it.
She always left us with a story to tell.
I look at how disjointed this whole blog post is...and I thought briefly about coming back to change it. But saying goodbye doesn't always--or maybe ever--look pretty. So, Gramma Nan, cheers to you for raising 7 pretty awesome kids, loving 22 grandkids, and cherishing 5 great-grandkids in 84 years. Just that is quite the accomplishment. I love you.
