Saying Good-Bye Is Hard

I can usually sit down in front of my computer and my brain just kicks into writing mode.  Today I am struggling.  Struggling with the millions of emotions that are playing tug of war inside of me.  Struggling with the flood of sadness that overtakes me when I think about what I am trying to say.  And then struggling with a peace that calms me and then the guilt that pushes that peace aside. 

My family lost an amazing woman last week.  My Grandmother, Eleanor, was the quiet yet strong head of our family since my Grandfather passed away almost 20 months ago.  She survived losing the love of her life, picking up the pieces of her life and learning how to live without him only to suffer from a massive stroke that would take her life.

I know everyone thinks their Grandparents are amazing.  If we are lucky enough to have Grandparents in our lives, we grow up with memories and traditions that we pass onto our own children.  But if you knew my Grandparents you would shake your head in agreement as I say my Grandparents were different.  They were amazing and strong and caring and giving.  My Grandparents were always my role models for what a relationship should be.  My Grandfather would say the key to a successful marriage was doing whatever my Grandmother wanted.  I used to laugh at that but he would smile and then say "isn't that right, Ellie?" 

After losing my Grandfather we were so afraid my Grandmother wasn't going to be able to adjust to living alone.  She was so lost at first.  She would sit on her couch and look so sad but her response when someone asked if she was okay was always, "oh, I'm fine."  She was so amazing and strong.

As sad as I am that she is now gone, I am so grateful that I had the chance to say good-bye to her and hold her hand and tell her how much I loved her.  What an amazing and heart wrenching experience that was for me.

The day after my Grandmother's stroke she was taken to Legacy Hopewell House in Portland.  I didn't really know how to process the fact that she was being moved to a facility to die.  It seems so cold and cruel.  But when I walked into Hopewell House I was overcome by the feel of the house.  And I say house and not facility because it was a house.  It was warm and comfortable and the staff was so caring.  I think half of their job there is to help families deal with losing a loved one and I am very grateful my family had the support and care they provided us.

I will miss you, Gramma.  I will miss your gentle touch as your fingers always found my back to gently rub and comfort me.  I will miss your sweet smile and the look on your face as you tasted a cookie or brownie or some other sweet my kids and I brought to you.  I will miss your laugh.  But I will always remember Christmas Eve dinners, you playing in the bell choir at church, you always fussing over how you looked and me always thinking you were the most beautiful woman I have ever known and the look on your face when you came to see me in the hospital after my daughter was born and me telling you her name was Eleanor.  Thank you for being here for 45 years of memories.