the passing of time

Each year on December 18 I am reminded about how much of my life has passed and how much my grandmother has missed. Growing up my grandmother was my savior amongst my family. She was my safe place. She was often the only thing that made any sense in my life.

She left this world 1 week before Christmas and the day after my 15th birthday. We said our final goodbye 4 days before Christmas, on a Saturday.

There are times in which we take what may seem ordinary and allow it to mean something more. Each Saturday for several years before she left us was spent helping her clean her house, taking her shopping, and just being with her. Every Saturday, just like clock work, we visited and did what we could to help.

That final Saturday I said goodbye to a woman who was my best friend.

I watched this woman go from being able to race me to the mailbox as a young child to a person who spent most of her days having dialysis and visiting any number of doctors. She had a fighter's spirit. She had already survived cancer that should have killed her. It was the treatment for that cancer that led to so many other health issues, and what eventually killed her.

I never heard her complain the times I sat with her in the hospital or during dialysis. The only thing I remember her ever saying about any of it was that she felt she was being punished.

I could never understand why she felt that way, I couldn't imagine this woman doing anything to be punished for yet she was very religious and in her mind it had more meaning.

I owe my "country" upbringing to her. She would show, teach, involve me in almost anything that she had to do. I helped build fences, I helped move cattle, I helped put up hay, I picked lots of fruit, I helped cook, and a few times she even took me with her when she hunted.

She was the best of both worlds in my opinion. She was womanly and yet never afraid of getting dirty to get something accomplished. She wore dresses each day but when farm work called she simply put a pair of jeans on under her dress and went about her tasks. She loved jewelry, perfume, and fixing her hair.

She was stern but very kind. She had a clear definition of right and wrong and wasn't afraid to redirect my actions with a fly swatter to the behind. One day out of fear of the smack I ran out and around the house. Without a moments hesitation she was out the door chasing after me. I don't remember getting punished but I clearly remember her chasing after me.

She, even sick, would venture out to support my basketball playing or achievements in education. She had the profound ability to "show up" which was something that was missing in many parts of my life. I was always overjoyed to see her, never embarrassed. I wanted to spend each day with her and would look for excuses to stay with her.

She was a true matriarch who managed to get all of us together several times throughout the year. Each year her 3 children and their families would pack ourselves in her small livingroom and share Christmas Eve. It is one of my most cherished memories. The 14 of us would exchange gifts, laugh, eat, and act as if there was no where else to be.

She would read the Christmas story from the bible and my uncles would encourage us kids about hearing Santa's sleigh. We left that house knowing we were loved and wanted.

I'm sad to say we don't do that anymore, haven't since she left us. She had been the glue that bound us all together. She was the reason we were able to work through disagreements and put aside our anger and make sure we showed up...we showed up for her.

I have as of today lived half of my life without her. I have graduated high school, college, gotten married, and had 4 children in these past 15 years, all without her being there. If I think about it too long I am overwhelmed that life has just continued without her. I will forever be saddened by the fact my husband and children never knew her. I've lost the sound of her voice, her smell, and have been unable to find a single picture of just she and I.

It often feels that as the years have passed her ability to exist in my memories has faded. My fear is that with the passing of this time I will forget her and so each year I find myself clinging to the memories shared with her, both good and bad.

I only hope is that as my children grow up they can know of her and what she meant to me. That I do well to pass along the wisdom she imparted, her kindness, and her ability to have an opinion that wasn't always popular and remain unafraid to speak her mind.

Today is always in some way a very sad day but I'm very relieved to know she is no longer suffering, that she is finally at peace and no more need to be so strong just to survive.

I guess it's very simple. I loved my grandmother very much and now she's gone which is very sad, but I will never forget how she treated and loved me. She remains an example of love and care and I miss her.