As I sat and gazed at my beautiful grandmother, I thought about Thornton Wilder's "Our Town". I felt like the young female protagonist who died and visited her life as a ghost, and implored everyone to appreciate their life and loved ones while they could.
I struggled to take in every moment of the day: my family laughing as we cooked out in the backyard; sitting in the family room with my grandma and my daughter; setting off fireworks in the street while my grandma watched from the porch. She had to be so exhausted, but she stayed up and with us every moment of the day.
Eight days later, my grandmother slipped into a coma. She died on July 16, 2011.
We didn't celebrate Independence Day at all the next year.
This year we did get together for our family thing. The pain is still there but time has eased it, and now we can smile and laugh and remember without our heart always breaking in two.
This holiday, though, is no longer just a holiday. It's the last holiday I spent with my grandmother, and will always be the most precious to me.
A moving post, Michelle. And, yes, Thornton Wilder comes immediately to mind.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Geo.
DeleteI certainly feel like I took my Grandparents for granted and I realized after they were gone that they were amongst the only people who will ever love you unconditionally.
ReplyDeleteI liked your remembrance. No one is really ever gone who is loved and remembered.
Thank you Laoch. I'm holding tight to her in my memories. I hate that time is passing and making some things fade. But she made me who I am today by loving me.
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