Before we head out on this whirlwind vacation, I have (at least) one more hurdle to jump. It is a personal one and certainly one which seems to evolve a little every year.
Our quickly approaching 15th wedding anniversary is definitely a milestone. Hopefully, I will take the time to write more on that later. Very few anniversaries pass me by without thinking about the loss of my grandma. Monday will mark 15 years of living life without her.
It is only in the past couple years that I have started to mourn her passing. Long delayed for me, I know but understandable if you know how my brain works.
Last year at this time was very difficult for me, maybe more so than the previous years. I had lived for nearly 6 years without much family contact and I felt the loss more than ever.
My grandma was literally the best of the worst. She wasn't great, had her issues and was sub par at best as a person. However, she loved and cared for me in more overt ways than anyone else in my family. I sat at her bed side for 6 days before she passed away, delaying many of my wedding preparations.
Looking back at her life, I could say with bold confidence that she was not a Christian. She spent her last few days alive at a Catholic hospital. She had a very aggressive lung cancer, which only took 7 days to fill her body. All of that 7 days, she was on life support. Five of those days, she communicated with us by blinking her eyes, tapping our hands and writing somewhat decipherable notes.
I was not a Christian at the time. However, I found comfort in their courtyard and chapel. The courtyard had a large statue of Mary. It was beautiful and peaceful, a great place to breathe in life and breathe out the sterilization of the ICU. The chapel was a warm place, filled with candles. I would sit for what seemed like hours. I often found myself in a sobbing heap in the pew hoping for a miracle.
On one of my trips to the chapel, a kind priest gave me a tissue and patted my back. He proceeded on to a stool at the front of the chapel, lighting a candle and then bowing in silence. I realize now that this was very much the Catholic way of praying for someone specific.
I left the chapel, went to my grandma's room and asked her if she believed in God. She nodded yes and I found comfort in that. Not sure why, since I was still years and years from truly believing in God myself. Her affirmation of belief has confused me greatly over the years and I could probably write a book on that. That part of her passing probably gets more and more difficult to reconcile as the years go by.
This year, I find myself mourning her in a much different way. As the process of re-establishing a couple family relationships continues, I think I mourn my connection to my grandma less.
For the first time ever, I think there is a potential to have a stronger relationship and certainly a healthier relationship with others in my family. These relationships, which are really starting anew, could be so much better in the future than what I ever had with her. They won't replace what I had with her. But maybe, the best relationship I ever had with someone in my family is yet to come. Maybe, just maybe, the best I ever have won't be the best of the worst.
Tuesday morning before we leave for Texas, I will be visiting her grave site. Something I have not done is over 7 years. It will be the first time to visit with a true understanding of death. There won't be flowers. There won't be one-sided conversation. There will probably be tears, but they won't be wasted. Fifteen years later, I can finally mourn the good, put aside the bad and hope for the future.
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