Grandma

I love blogging. I've been doing it for ages. Leaving a trail of blogs that in essence are my story. Life has changed for me so much over the past little while and I've let my blogging fall to the wayside....well, it seemed like the right time to return to what I'm so comfortable with. People have asked me why blogging and not a diary. I can't answer that. Maybe I'm an exhibitionist. I think the truth is it is nice to share with other people. Hear other people's thoughts. Know people care.

I think inevitably there are somethings I need to edit on this. I want it to be me...not about other people. And I will never talk about work here. I will talk about my life and my thoughts. My toddler son who wears me out constantly. My family who's support I so appreciate. Only the good things of course...I'll save the real gossip for my anonymous blog.

I think the thing that is at the forefront of my mind right now is my gandmother. She passed away this week. She was 84 years old. I just got back from a week with my family in New Jersey where we said goodbye to her. It was bittersweet. It was the first time we had all been together in a very long time. The first time my extended family got to meet my husband and my little Moo (his nickname :)). But we were saying goodbye to someone we all loved dearly. We laughed hysterically at stories about her and my mother and aunt and uncle. We cried as we laughed.

Leaving her house...well...it felt heavy. Knowing that it was the last time I would ever be at the house that so reminded me of a being a kid. Pictures everywhere. Eac corner, scratch, mark, toy...everything has a story. Even the smell. The smell of that house was Grandma and Grandpa.

It was hard to be sad when I was with my family because I feel compelled to stay strong for them. I don't know why. I find it hard to cry then. And focusing on the baby helps. But it hit me like a ton of bricks on the plane. That I would never go back there. That my grandmother was the glue that held us together. That she was the matriarch of the family who brought us altogether. That likely I wouldn't see most of my extended family members again. I was completely overwhelmed by the emptiness of it all.

I am more grateful than I can put into words that my grandmother got a chance to meet my son and those are some of my favorite pictures. The couldn't stop beaming at eachother. I'm so glad we have videos of that. I am so happy that m son will always know that generations of the women in my family were completely charmed by him.

Each paragraph I write here reminds me of twenty other things I want to say. It is hard to get it all out. We discovered boxes and boxes and boxes and boxes of pictures. My grandmother through every stage of her life. She was beautiful. Her and my grandfather were a great looking couple. Straight out of a movie. She had zillions of pictures of us. She did not miss an opportunity to document our ackward years.

*sigh*

I don't want to say that I wish I had spent more time with her or called her more often. I don't want to say that because it doesn't matter. I can't change what happened. But all those things are true. I wish I had done both. But what I try to focus on is the time I had with her and how very much I loved her and how very much I know she loved all of us. She instilled in us her strength, perseverence, determination, her capacity to love and take care of us whenever we needed her and even when we didn't. She was a role model. She wasn't perfect. Thank goodness for that. She was Grandma. I was lucky to have her.