Day 1328 | My Grandma

Part of the healing process for my back is figuring out what emotional baggage I've been carrying around and figuring out how to separate myself from it. One of the "bags" that I've been carrying with me for years is the relationship with my mom's mom--my grandma. 

I grew up 3+ hours away from that side of the family so we didn't get to be a part of each other's day-to-day when I was growing up. I went to UW-Madison for college so was just 40 minutes away from her at that time, but I never really made an effort to make plans with her. You know...because at 18 you're just **so busy**. Then I moved to DC for three years, then to Iowa for one year and there was minimal contact. Don't get me wrong, we usually saw each other at least twice a year (sometimes more) and Christmas at that grandma and grandpa's house in Monroe will always be some of my most cherished and favorite memories as a child. 

But I was the only granddaughter. There were six grandsons and me. I should have fostered that granddaughter/grandmother relationship more. I should have recognized my role in our family sooner. I should have asked her questions about her adventures through life and the people she loved. 

One of the best things I've done in my life was to spend the last few weeks of my grandma's life with her before she passed away from cancer. It was a transition point in my life--Chris and I had just moved back to DC (from Iowa) and I had quit my job and was actively hunting for a new one. My mom and my aunt were working important, full-time jobs at the time so I decided to head "home" to Wisconsin to hang out with my grandma for those sad, quiet, important days while she slipped away. 

I think that's part of the reason I wish I could go back in time and foster that relationship sooner. In those last few weeks, I saw what we could have had. What our relationship meant to each other even though we didn't have the countless conversations or individual memories to support it. 

And she protected me to the end. She would *intentionally* wait for my mom or aunt to reappear before needing any medical attention during those days when we were together. She held on until after I left so that I didn't have to be there when she finally slipped away. That kind of control and intention when someone is near the end always takes my breath away. 

I continue to carry those memories from her last few weeks with me even though 7+ years (7 years?!?) have passed. I use the bird mugs that she loved all the time. I wear her ring (pictured above) which she wore every day for as long as I can remember. I carried one of her bags around for years (also pictured) until the corners and straps finally started to give way. Now I save it for special occasions. 

I would do anything to go back in time, grandma. But I hope you know how much you meant to me and how those few weeks together shaped my life more than you (or I) will ever know. 

Happy birthday, Grandma.