[PKRWUD]

I haven't heard from my Dad since my parents got divorced in 1985. After that, the only family I had left was my Mother and my Grandmother (Mom's Mom). In 1993, my Grandmother had a small stroke, and my Mother got laid off and couldn't find work, so she moved to Florida to live with and care for my Grandmother. My Grandmother got better, but my Mom continued to live with her. They both told me privately it was wonderful, and created a relationship between them that was more like best friends than Mother and daughter. Every year, my Mother would tell me I had to come out for Christmas because it was probably going to be my Grandmother's last one. I always wanted to go anyway, but my Mom still felt the need to make my Grandmothers health sound so much worse than it was. She did gradually get worse, but we all grew much closer each year. We each knew that we were all each other had, and we made the most of it. When I was there for Christmas 1999, my Grandmother and I spent most of the time together, and one day she fell and cut her forehead while I was at the store. I rushed her to the ER, but she insisted she was fine and not to bother. As it turns out, she was right, and ended up with a couple nasty bruises, but that was it. While we were sitting in the ER waiting room, I mentioned us doing something the next time I came to visit, and she told me that the next time I came out would be for her funeral. Again she was right. She hadn't said it in a negative way, it was more like her way of reassuring me that she was ready to die, and that that was okay. This really troubled me, but in reflection it was me being selfish. I didn't want her to go. None the less, when I was leaving for home that time, I sat with her for 15 minutes and told her that I really wanted to see her again the following year, but that I understood that she might die, and that those were possibly the last minutes together we would ever have. I told her how much I loved her, and thanked her for all the things I could think of. I remembered things I hadn't thought of for 20 years, like the after dinner walks she and I would go on when I was 7 or 8, and all the times she had been there for me. That was the hardest conversation I have ever had with someone. The following September, my Mother started in with the same old concerns about her health, and how I should come out for Christmas. By this point, it was kinda like crying wolf. I didn't give it anymore merit than I had in the past. I was going to come out for Christmas anyway, and was bothered by her calls. In November, about 2 weeks before my Grandmothers 89th birthday, I was sitting outside T.G.I.Friday's having a cigarette, when I suddenly knew something had happened. I went back in and excused myself, and went home early. I checked the answering machine, and there were two messages from my Mother. She was calling to tell me my Grandmother had died. I went upstairs and sat on the sofa, and just started balling. I was 34, and hadn't cried in years, yet I cried harder than I think I ever have before. This lasted for about a half hour. I called my Mom, and a couple friends, and was on the verge of tears the whole time. I knew I would cry again after I got off the phone, but I didn't. In fact, never cried again. I was very sad, and wanted to cry, but I couldn't. My anger quickly subsided because I remembered our talk the last time I saw her. I kept trying to think of things I wished I had told her, but I couldn't think of any. I had absolutely no regrets. I was still selfishly wanting her to be around for me, but I still had no regrets. There wasn't anything I wish I had done, or wished I had said, because I did it all, and said it all, and we had our goodbyes. It was really a very wonderful thing. When my best friend died in a scuba diving accident in '94, I hated everything and everyone because all I could think of was all of the things I wished I had told him, and now couldn't, but this was not the case with my Grandmother. The funeral was tough, but after it was over, I felt no sorrow. She was in a better place, and she died knowing I loved her. It's still tough at times, but having had that 15 minute talk really made it all easier. I hated having that conversation, and it was so difficult, but I now know that it is what made things okay.

Brian, I am really so sorry for your loss, and I do have a pretty good idea how you're feeling. I hope that you and she shared something similar to what I did with my Grandmother, because that will help tremendously. Even if you didn't, I'm sure she knew how much you loved her, and she passed with those pleasant thoughts on her mind. Moms and Grandmoms are incredible at knowing how you feel, even when you don't always say it. I hope you are able to replace the sorrow in your heart with the joy that you gained from the years of wonderful moments you two spent together. You should always remember that she was very proud of you and your accomplishments, and will forever be smiling when you succeed at anything you try.

Take care,
-Chris