My Grandma Velma passed away yesterday at the ripe age of 99. I hadn't seen her in quite some time, but the last time I visited we sat in her nursing home room for several hours. We talked about birds and the show on television and photographs on the wall. But mostly we didn't talk at all. She was tired and I knew she was forcing herself to stay awake for me. I suggested I could leave several times, but she pleaded for me to stay. I stayed as long as I could, but finally said goodbye. I leaned over her chair to hug her and she grabbed my hand (with quite a grip for her age), looked me in the eyes, and said, "Come back and see me....and remember, Grandma loves you."
I knew, even then, I probably wouldn't be back to see her, but I did always know that she loved me. On the long drive back to Omaha that night, I remember thinking the visit felt so strange to me. At first, I couldn't understand the feeling, but it finally struck me that it was strange because it was so still.
My grandma was 68 when I was born so she could have been considered an older grandmother my whole life, but I never felt that way because she was constantly in motion. I never remember a visit where she just sat. She was always running to get something from the kitchen or moving to clean something up. She always always wanted to go somewhere. It made me a little sad that the woman who was always moving couldn't move much at all anymore. I started imaging a day when maybe she could do all the things that gave her life again. I hope that time has come now.
I hope she has her car back. And she can drive to the grocery store or the drive-in or a friend's house just to chat.
I hope her hair is perpetually dyed and curled to perfection. Not a trace of gray.
I hope she has a swimming pool and water aerobics are open at 5pm each day.
I hope there are always cookies in her freezer, packed in Ziploc bags to send away with anyone who's leaving her home.
I hope she's surrounded by photos of her family in which we all stand just right with no "goofy looks" on our faces.
I hope she has an endless supply of Word Jumbles that she is able to solve at her table each day.
I hope she can call for Jack anytime and he will be there for her.
Most of all, I hope she remembers that I love her too.
