I wrote this at the end of 2014, which was an arduous time for me. I was realizing that the Master’s program I was in was not something I wanted to continue, I was broke, and more terrible thoughts inhabited my mind than positive ones. Then, my grandmother passed away.
♥
This past week has been full of sadness, heartache, loss, and more importantly, family. While I prepared for my 8-hour drive last Saturday, I tried telling myself not to think about why I had to travel to Maine. I tried telling myself not to think about my dad’s voice on the phone that morning, telling me that my grandmother was now in a better place.
I have always found that sentiment peculiar – that those who have passed on are in a better place. I don’t find it peculiar because I am not strongly religious; rather, I find it peculiar because I believe the best place for my loved ones to be is right here with me.
As I drove northward, my thoughts were swirling with thoughts of my family, my grandfather, and of course, Gram. Early on in my travels, I mostly felt regret for not visiting Gram more in the last few years. But honestly, I did not dwell on that too much.
Why? Because for the past 4 years or so, my grandmother has not been the grandmother I want to remember. She still physically existed, but her loving soul and a majority of her sharp mind did not. This is why I don’t let the previously mentioned regret overwhelm me. I am at peace with myself for stopping my visits, because I choose to think of the memories I hold so close to my heart, rather than the more recent memories that pain me when they enter my mind.
What are the memories I want to think of? What do I want to remember?
I want to remember Gram spoiling me, Kristy, and my cousins – whether it was giving Kristy coffee as a treat at age 4 or laying out blankets on the floor so a bunch of us could watch TV together.
I want to remember the times spent at the kitchen table, eating breakfast with Gram and Gramps, and helping Gram make her infamous donuts – although most of the help related to eating them.
I want to remember the annual Christmas parties, and helping Gram decorate the tree with homemade decorations and sparkly tinsel.
I want to remember Gram and Gramps’ 50th Anniversary party at camp, and although I was too young to appreciate it then, I want to remember how much love was and still is between them.
I want to remember how patient Gram was, and how her hugs and words were always full of love.
I want to remember these times.
I want to remember the days and years when Gram could remember me.
I know that I will always feel a sense of heartache when I think of my Gram. And I will always feel for my father, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, and all of my extended family and the people who were touched by my grandmother’s life when I think of my own heartache. We all lost an important part of what made us who we are today.
But I will not dwell on that heartache, and the unfairness of this significant loss. Instead, I will think of the memories I cherish and how lucky I am to have such a strong and loving family. I find peace in the knowledge that Gram is no longer suffering, and that she is truly in a better place; although I miss her like crazy.
I like to walk with Gram,
she takes small steps like mine.
She never says “let’s hurry-up!”
she always takes her time.
I like to walk with Gram,
her eyes see things like mine.
Shiny stones, a fluffy cloud,
stars at night that shine.
People rush their whole day through,
they rarely stop to see.
I’m glad that God made my Gram
unrushed and young like me!
-“Walk with Grandma” by Anonymous (with three modifications).
I’m
Thank you for reading.
-Kelsey