My Two Mothers

I usually only post things on here about my travels, other cultures, and new things I experience professionally. Mostly, I don't get too personal. However, this time I will allow a view into my heart. On August 11th my grandmother died. We did not have what I would call a typical grandmother/grandson relationship. I lived, along with my brother and mother, with my grandparents until I was 14. I again lived with them the past 18 months or so. In my heart she was the closest thing to a mother besides my own. I wrote part of a eulogy to be read at her prayer service and I am told that my brother read it. I would like to share it here with you now.

I went out with some friends the other night and as our night drew to a close I had a feeling that I should call home, something wasn’t right. Something was moving me to call immediately, it was very odd. I have never felt that way before. I tried time and again to dial the right numbers to make the connection, but it didn’t work. I was worried about my family and so distraught and frustrated sleep did not come easy. The next morning I finally found the right combination of numbers and contacted my mother. In our discussion she told me the time of day that grandma slipped away and I realized that it was the very time that I had that urgent feeling the night before. Even in death, grandma was with me.

I spent so much of my life with grandma that she became a permanent fixture in my life. I don’t remember ever not being in her care. In my childhood she cared for me just as a mother would. She scolded me at times, and held me when I was sick or hurt. She made cookies and made sure we got to tucked in (when mom wasn’t there). She was always there after school when Shane and I got home, ready for our whirlwind of activity. She was always willing to put together a puzzle or play a game with me. In my teenage years we moved out of grandma and grandpa’s house and it seemed as though I wouldn’t see them as much, but that was not so. As I grew into adulthood she was still there, a fixture at Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter. Her party mix was the best. (sorry mom, its true!) She was always the most chipper, always interested in what you were doing, always listening with the utmost sincerity. Of course she could be quite funny too, always smiling, always with good cheer. I remember when grandpa broke his hip and for a time I spent my days at their house with grandma, reading, playing games, or taking Ms. Rosemary for a drive! Ha! What fun! Eventually we lived together again when I came back to Sturgeon Bay and it felt good in my heart to be with my grandparents again although grandma was not the same.
As grandma grew older she started to decline. She would not remember things and sometimes could not keep up with conversation, but she kept trying. She had pain in her knees and was often dizzy, but she was still amazingly upbeat. I would sometimes get frustrated with her. Sometimes I didn’t always want to talk to her or I was irritated that she kept asking me the same questions all the time. I know that we all felt this way at some point. (Would you like some carrots Mary?) In the last years of her life I started to replace the person that she was with the little things that took away from her. The every day interaction started to make me forget, like we all do, what is truly in front of us. Even though I loved her greatly I started to forget the woman that she was as days of dementia and dizziness clouded her mind as well as mine.
Now that cloud has lifted. I can once again remember the woman that she was. Cleansed of earthly impediments, my image of her has become again what she truly was. The time has come for all of us to forget the small things that made each day difficult. We can let go of those things that have been cluttering our minds. We can laugh heartily about the frustrating times, we can smile about the good times, and we can hold each other as she did for me when I was hurting. We can finally let it melt away remembering only the good things, letting only our love for her to remain. Each one of us can remember oma, grandma, mom, Rosemary as the loving person she was. Each one of us can take somber comfort in each other and mourn her death, but not for her sake. It is for ours. While we are without her, she is with God. She now walks beside him, jubilant I’m sure, asking him with the utmost sincerity how his day is going, if he is doing well, or if he would like some carrots.