Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Grandma Adams

I don't post much serious, sincere stuff on the internet whether here or on Facebook. People have enough problems, and I'd rather go for the funny than bum strangers out with whatever problems I'm having if I can't get some laughs out of them.

My grandma died this morning, about a month before her 95th birthday. Her quality of life wasn't the greatest the last few years, after a few strokes she pretty much just staid in her bed which was quite a change for her.

I remember being with her while I was waiting for my sister to be born. Every time I'd hear a siren I'd ask if that was my mom and my new sister. I remember her spoiling me, whether giving me a mountain of gifts for Christmas and my birthday, feeding me full to the bursting point, or secretly sending me checks when I was a grown-up.

She was the best cook I have ever known, years of working as a school cafeteria manager probably helped that. She was always proud of me, even when I wasn't proud of myself, and genuinely, unconditionally loved me and my sister.

The call this morning wasn't too much of a surprise, the last time I visited her she temporarily lost her hearing, so I had to write everything down for her. I was upset leaving the nursing home and the director stopped me and tried to cheer me up. I guess it helped a little.

I'm trying not to remember her that way. I'd rather remember her cooking egg sandwiches before a day of fishing, or cooking up hamburgers for a stray dog her and my grandfather sort of adopted, or walking by me patiently as I learned to ride a bike.

I hadn't actually spoken to her in a long time. She didn't have a phone in her room, and she was asleep most of the time anyway. Although we didn't talk much (even when she wasn't in the hospital, she didn't talk much), I thought about her all the time, and she is already leaving a large hole in my soul.
R.I.P., Grandma

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