Grandma

My grandmother is dying.

Years of love and sadness, unbearable grief, hysterical laughter, incredible highs, desolate lows, and always being there for her family have finally taken their toll on her poor heart.

She's 85- and someday, probably in tiny bits and pieces- I will write of her amazing life. But for now all you need to know is that she is the mother of 12, the grandmother of 26 or so, and the great-grandmother of 13. She is the first person who I rode the brand-new Space Mountain with... 3 times in a row (she was in her 60's). She is funny and smart, and collects Hummels, pewter and garden gnomes. She loves Holidays, baking, and her Rosary. She nurtured us with a ferocity that was constant and unconditional, but she never hesitated to pull out the wooden spoon when we needed it. She is Rose Kennedy and Katharine Hepburn and a little bit Dinah Shore. She is a woman of her generation, who gracefully and wisely has made her way into this century through the lives of her progeny.
I love her madly.

This morning, this day, I said goodbye to her. She in Missouri, me in California.
Too far away.

She can no longer talk- her oxygen mask only allows her enough air to survive
so my Aunt Dee Dee held the phone to her ear.
And in that moment, I realized that I had so much to say, and could say nothing that meant what I felt.
I, who have never been at a loss for words, was paralyzed.

How do you tell someone that everything you do, everything you are is because of her influence?

I wanted to say
that I learned to be a parent
because she read to us, colored with us and let us be a little bit naughty sometimes? Because she never acted like she was too tired to cook one more dinner, even though she must have wanted to cry sometimes when she reached the end of her busy day? Because she never made any of us ever feel like she was ashamed or disappointed when we were foolish or hurtful? Because it was unconditional, no strings attached, acceptance of and for all?

That I learned to be a good wife
because she taught me how to laugh at the insignificant messes, and appreciate the comfort of a good snore? Because she taught me how to make pancakes and enchiladas and how to keep my house clean? Because she taught me that you can have a disagreement without being mean? Because she knew so well how quickly your partner can be taken away- and no day should be wasted?

That I learned to be responsible
because she trusted me to care for her own aging mother- my Nana- while she was on a well-deserved vacation for a few weeks? Because she hosted a neighborhood/family roundtable for political discussions before every Election Day? Because when I was sick, in pain, bored, wanted to quit a hated job, or otherwise miserable, she told me to "offer it up"?

That I learned to love life
because she made me bring up her 412 Christmas boxes from the basement- and let me pick out my favorite decorations to put up for her? Because she knew the value of an afternoon spent on the front porch watching the fog roll in from the beach? Because no matter how horrific it must have been to see her toddler daughter killed by a speeding car, or her husband killed by a bullet in 1969, she never gave up hope that tomorrow would be better?

There is so much.

Cutting sandwiches into butterflies. Playing music during breakfast. Jewel-T laundry detergent. Croquet in the backyard. Feeding her dogs leftover pot roast. Edgemar milk. Perry Como.
Gingerbread chocolate chip cookies. Taboo powder. Vicks' Vaporub. Giving up candy for Lent.

So what did I say?

I said

I
Love
You.

and
Thank you
for every single thing
everything
everything
you
gave
me.

ever.

Thank
You.