My Dear Sweet Granny

This is one of my favorite people in the whole world. We speak on the phone at least once or twice a week and she calls to check up on me every holiday, worried that I'm spending it alone (I never am, but she worries anyway). When I went home, I always made it a point to go by her house and do what I could for her no matter how small because of her osteoarthritis and inability to stand for more than a few minutes. I love this woman more than anything, and yesterday I lost her.

My granny was one of the strongest people I have ever met. She was born in the Great Depression, raised five children, two of which gave her hell (she gave it right back), spoiled 8 grandchildren, and lived long enough to see the birth of her first great-grandchild (for that I nicknamed her GG - she actually liked that one better than when we started calling her Granny, also my fault). Her first husband beat her, the second one was even worse though I hate to say it since he was my gramps and I loved him too. She walked away from both marriages during a time when divorce was not an option with her head held high. She hid her feelings for the sake of her family and despite the divorce, my grandparents were both there at every important family gathering, leaving their baggage at the door. I hope I told her how much I appreciated it. I wish my parents could do the same. She was also very quick-witted, could take a joke, and always had some hilariously snarky comment she'd make with a wink and a smile to get back at you. There was this one time she called to ask how long Ben and I had been married. She thought it had been a couple of months and I got a bit annoyed. "GRANNY! It's been a year and a HALF!!" Yes, I acted five, so what? She laughed and said, ".... and they said it would never last." Totally deserved it.

I called her on Christmas Day this year to tell her I was ok and that we were spending the holidays with friends. She was in the hospital and had just survived a serious electrolyte imbalance, one that almost took her out for good. I got the chance to tell her how much I loved her and that I'm glad we didn't lose her. She was pretty happy too and was looking forward to going home, which she did a couple days later. She told me that when she did kick the bucket, I had throw a party and dance on her grave. She also said some other things I will not be repeating but were definitely entertaining. It was good to hear that the old woman didn't lose her sense of humor... and also that the drugs were spectacular. Morphine is a hell of a drug.

I feel very fortunate to be the oldest grandchild and to have had so much time with her throughout the years. She was one of the few people I could talk to about anything and I will really miss hearing her voice every week. I'm not ready for the grave dancing or the party yet, but maybe some day. What a sight that would be, eh? Rest in peace, dear Granny. I love you.