today is the 2nd anniversary of my grandma GG’s death. she died of complications from breast cancer, with my mom and aunt katrina by her side. she fought very, very hard for six years. and she was wonderful at it and somehow hardly let on how challenging it had to be.
we all miss her a lot.
her laugh and how she would throw her head slightly back. her clear blue eyes (inherited by only lucky cousins gus and jake). the gin and squirt in the tempered glass. how she’d shorten people’s names to end with an ‘in’ like my cousin stephanie would become stephin or friend tiffany would become tiffin. how she’d swat us all on the butt and make us laugh with well-worn phrases like “e-gads!” and “hot dog!” and “goody goody” (especially that last one when she found out the secret that lucas and shae were pregnant with mia). the breaded porkchops she’d make special when i would visit home.her horrible handwriting. wadding up money, peppermints, and kleenax in her pockets (which aunt katrina now comes by honestly). her sewing skills that could fix any tear or hem or issue perfectly. how she would pick up a conversation right where we left off. and her always telling me, when i’d be upset to leave staunton, that her and pop would be there when i got back.
i often wonder what she would say about this whole me-getting-breast-cancer debacle. i think she’d stay positive and encourage me to keep fighting. i wish i could get a hug from her.
my family doesn’t know i’m writing this post, but i feel compelled to share some things on here that are fairly private to us. my grandpa does not know about my diagnosis. he has seizures that can be stimulated by emotions. the family, together with one of his caregivers, collectively decided it would be too dangerous, unfair, and heart-breaking for him to know. not because of me necessarily but because of the raw reminders of my grandma and depth of his continued grief. he loves her–his pretty, his doll babe–so much and wishes, much to our sadness but sometimes humor, that he can be with gg sooner than later. probably like october 24, 2 years ago. obviously there has been another plan in the works instead, and we all are learning how to accept this.
i can’t remember for the life of me right now how old pop is. is he 90? 91? or 92? he’d probably be able to tell you how many days he’s been alive though, as he’s sharp as a tack. but just think of all he’s seen, tragedy he’s lived through, and golden times too. beyond our health concerns about him, i’d feel horrible saddling him with any worries, or pain, or replacement of his memories of me as an innocent little girl who was afraid of the horses near worden or who loved going on adventures with him to the dime-store to pick out some tacky beads, to the A&W to wave at the cars going by, or to the basement to dig around for treasures on his tool bench. because really one thing that is so special about pop is his ability to recall, and do so about beautiful memories, filling all of our heads with these memories that may have otherwise slipped out of view. and i’d like to keep his memory of me just like it is.
so here’s to gg, pop, and the beautiful memories they have given our family. we love them both so much.