I was at my friend’s wedding when I got the news. It was a text in my phone from my sister Amy.
“They found grandma…”
All I needed to see were those three words and I immediately knew. Even though she was still barely alive at that point. Even though she was still breathing and getting brain surgery that night. But the odds were low.
We prayed for a miracle. I wrote her a letter that night that began “Dear Grandma, I am writing this to you in the hopes that you will wake up to read it…”
As soon as I got the news, I felt it immediately. I walked out of the reception as quickly as I could and out into the parking lot so I could cry without making a scene. I cried so hard that night. I felt numb and shocked. I had heard of so many other friend’s grandparents dying before, and in my mind I always rationalized it- “Well, they were old so they must have been expecting it.”
I learned that just because someone was elderly when they passed doesn’t make it any less painful for their family and friends.
As I stood in that parking lot with two of my friends, I cried out her name over and over. It was all I could say. A flood of emotions washed over me. Sadness- the thought of her lying there, her last memory being alone. Regret- I should’ve called. Should’ve written her more letters. Why didn’t I call more? Shock- I will never see her again. I will never talk to her again.
Two weeks it’s been and it still doesn’t feel real. She was the grandma I grew up with. I went to her house to visit on weekends- my first weekends away from home. She lived an hour away in the most idyllic, sleepy, little town- Lodi, California. She was tough but she was sweet. She cooked us such good food- the most amazing homemade pizza and burgers. Chocolate sheet cake. Peach pies and apple pies and rhubarb pies. She made these homemade rolls that are better than any other I’ve ever tasted. She sang and played the piano all the time. I can hear her vibrato as she sang God Bless America. She was SO proud to be an American. She loved this country so much. She also loved God so much. She had some of the strongest morals I’ve ever seen.
I miss her so much. I am so sad that I will never see her again. Life doesn’t feel quite complete knowing she is not here anymore.
Here are a few of the poems I wrote throughout the last two weeks about her and what I felt.
I wrote this one the night I got the news.
I cry for the pain, a little bit
But more than that
I cry for the love
I cry for you, grandma,
And how you loved us
I cry for family
Broken heavy hearts
I cry for mom,
Breaking down on the phone
Maybe this is your time,
Maybe you are meant to go home
I hate thinking I already made my last memories with you
I cry for the pain but more than that-
grocery store, bright plastic lights
tie-dye tee shirt, numb heart
why does buying groceries tonight seem such a strange thing to do?
[my grandma died tonight.]
thinking about packing a black skirt and a black sweater
thinking about funeral words and
not enough time
thinking about phone calls never made
thinking about lonely fourth of julys and arthritis hands that haven’t been held since
he passed 28 years ago
thinking about long afternoons sitting alone
what did she do to pass the time?
i wish i could’ve been there
wish i could have shed some light
what could i have done
to make it alright?
i know she’s at peace
so why aren’t i?
it is raining so hard
and i am going to see my friend before she moves away
my grandmother died
two nights ago
what a strange feeling
on this tuesday morning.
You are so sweet
You are so dear
You hold some of my best memories here
Dusty dirt roads
Rows and rows of vineyards
Grapes and lemon trees and railroad tracks
Flat and green and full of life yet
Sleepy, enchanted
Almost unchanging for
My twenty-four years
I think I’ll always love you most
Because of who you are
And because of who you hold.
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jacobvanloon
