Friday, February 27, 2015

Grandma Anne

This blog was started with the intention of being a DIY, photo, recipe, etc type blog, but I think there is anything wrong with sharing a little bit of me and who I am, some of my ramblings.

Today marks eight years since we lost ... not really lost, I didn't misplace her at the mall ... my Grandma Anne.

There are no words to describe this woman.  She was so much more than just a grandma to me, she absolutely went above and beyond for us, and was the grandma to us that ours couldn't be bothered to be.  That's right, this women wasn't mother or step mother to either one of my parents, that in no way negates her role as grandma to my sisters and I.

These pictures have always amused me.  Even at a young age, I knew who loved me and which grandma I wanted to be with. 

Look how happy I am in one and how absolutely UN-impressed I am in the other.  Maybe I was a fickle baby.

I'm also highly amused that at the age of two, I am about half her height, she was a little, little lady, full of life with the biggest heart and full of so much love.   

I have so many wonderful memories of and about her,
  • countless sleepovers
  • black cherry soda, she always had it, I still have a weakness for it
  • playing Old Maid
  • the ease everyone felt when she was around
  • she made the BEST homemade mac-n-cheese, seriously, THE BEST
  • baking, she made this crazy bread in a can, and Christmas cookies every year, I so miss baking Christmas cookies with her 
  • yellow roses will forever remind me of my grandma
  • her going to every school event, choir concert, karate tournament
  • she had this closet full of games for us to play when we stayed over
    • for some reason this mini ski-ball one sticks in my memory
  • how cute she looked trying to pull herself along with her one leg in her wheelchair
    • Grandma Anne had bone cancer and lost ... again, not really, we know where it went ... her leg to it  

I remember days outside washing cars with both of my grandparents and aunts.  Not sure why I felt the need to cram myself into that bucket, but I did it EVERYTIME, car soap suds and all.  Maybe because it was one of those "grandma" things.  She just didn't care how big of goofs we were, she just laughed and carried on.  I remember that bucket, I remember how slick those sidewalks got when they were wet, I remember being warned repeatedly to not run, ignoring that warning and ending up on my arse, more than once.   

 

Isn't it strange the memories that remain so vivid while others fade.  I can barely remember what she sounded like but I remember those slick sidewalks.  

After she was sick I would take her out about every other week or so to run errands, she never drove again after her amputation.  Bank, grocery store, shopping, almost always went to lunch, usually at the Big Wheel in Valpo, I'm not sure why she loved that place but we usually ended up there.  I'm not sure I appreciated those trips fully til I was much older.  The one on one time that I got to spend with her and the conversations we had, those are some of the best memories that I have with her. 

I remember the day we took this picture.  I remember thinking it was stupid, she was sick and didn't feel well and her "hair wasn't did" - grandma expression - my sister and I had on pajamas.  I remember standing there just annoyed about it.  


It was the last picture I ever took with her.  I wish now I had at least faked a smile. 

I still remember the last day I saw her, HER, not the funeral, that wasn't my grandma anymore.  It was the day before she passed.  She was so sick, the cancer had spread everywhere, she couldn't see, even then she wasn't really 100% my grandma anymore.  I couldn't walk in her house and see her.  I knew what was happening and I knew how sick she was and I just stood in the doorway and cried.  I will forever regret that.  FOREVER.  I KNOW without any doubt that my grandma knew how much I loved her and I KNOW she understood why I couldn't say that goodbye that day, I just wasn't ready.

I often get upset with myself for still having "I miss my grandma" days or being down about something I so wish I could share with her.  Sometimes I think I should just get over it.  Then I am reminded that I still miss her because I loved her so much.  Not such a bad reason to miss someone.

I will always love her and will forever be grateful that she chose to be our grandma.  


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