Life sometimes has a way of hitting you where it really hurts, of saying “Haha, you think you have me figured out? Screw you!”
It’s been a year since I’ve been home. A year since I stepped foot in Colorado, the place I grew up. But I didn’t just grow up there, I flourished there, I evolved there, I am who I am because of there. It’s been 12 years since I left that magical place and set out on my own, started my own path. And while I’ve been back time and time again, this is the longest I’ve ever been away.
It’s been a year since I saw my mountains, hugged my friends, saw my Gran’ma. I am so excited to get back there, back to “my” place, my childhood, my memories, my home. A year ago Doodle was a tiny little nugget, Honeybun hadn’t even started kindergarten yet and Sugarplum was just emerging from her toddlerhood.
We never planned to be away for so long. We desperately wanted to go back to visit for Spring Break but airfare for five was too much and I didn’t want to take Honeybun out of school. Then school ended and we had our show and I had to teach all summer. Finally we got our trip booked and we were all getting excited to go but now it’s all over.
It’s all over.
I wanted to get back so badly, I wanted to see my Gran’ma. I wanted her to hold and kiss my babies. I wanted her to see Doodle being silly and Sugarplum do her gymnastics tricks and Honeybun read. But we waited to get back because I didn’t know we needed to hurry.
And now it’s all over. We missed it. She’s gone.
And now I sit here in the dark, alone while my babies sleep, and the rain comes pouring down (what is it with the god-damned rain when people die?!?!) and I just…I can’t. I just can’t…
Our arsenal of great-grandparents has been reduced by ¾ in the past year. This is our 4th loss in 18 months. It’s just so much. And I’m trying to tell myself the same things I told hubby less than a month ago “there’s nothing you could do. You didn’t know. You can’t beat yourself up about it.” But I wanted to be there so bad, I wanted to see her again. I didn’t want it to end like this. I don’t want this to be it.
As I sobbed on the phone with my mommy as she calmly gave me the news about her own mother, she told me “She went peacefully. She wasn’t in pain, she didn’t suffer. We have to remember she’s in a better place and she wouldn’t want you to be upset.” But how can I not be? It’s been a whole year.
I used to feel resentful towards her when we would speak on the phone and she would well-up as we finished our conversation and would say something like “You’re all just so far away…” I’d laugh and say “I know. But we’ll see you again soon, I love you.” And I did. And I do. And I will. Always.
The woman who drove me to ballet classes and helped me learn to drive. The woman who adored her grandchildren and great-grandchildren more than anything in the world. The woman who worked hard her whole life just to get by. The woman who insisted she would make it to a hundred and be on the Today show with Willard Scott (she was 94). The woman who I WON’T see again soon.
The woman who I missed by just a little bit. The good-bye I didn’t get to say because I didn’t know I was supposed to hurry.
It almost makes it harder that she went peacefully. At hubby’s grandmother’s services a few weeks ago, a lot of people asked about her and I responded “she’s doing amazingly well. She hasn’t had any problems in I don’t know how long!” I didn’t know she was going to go. If she had been sick, I would have known to get home, to say good-bye. I would have done ANYTHING to have that chance. But I didn’t know.
I don’t believe in living in the past or having regrets. I believe in moving forward and learning from your experiences. But I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know what to glean from this experience (which is eerily similar to what we went through with hubby’s Grandma just weeks ago).
It’s all over and I don’t know, I just can’t…
P.S. I wrote the above shortly after getting the news while the kids were napping and I waited for hubby to get home from work (he came home as soon as I asked him too without hesitation). When Sugarplum woke up a bit later, I wrapped her in my arms and told her the news. She paused a second then asked “can I open my birthday cards now?” She had been obsessing all day about two cards we missed opening and was not happy about me making her wait for Daddy. Hubby and I laughed at her ignorance to the situation and then I lost it…one of the cards was from my Gran’ma. Since moving into an independent living place a few years ago, she has always made cards for my girls. We always joke about how she needs to be less stingy with the glue and I’ll admit I threw away a lot of falling apart cards. But this card will stay with us forever.
