Angel wings

The house phone rang just after 10pm last night, as I was just putting my cell on silent for the night. Since only telemarketers call the house phone for the most part, I knew just what it was. My stomach sank. Al called my name and I told him I didn't want to take it. He nodded but handed me the phone anyway.

My Grama had passed. 

It was only then that I looked at the date and realized that it was one year to the day that my Grandfather had passed last year. I hadn't even realized what day it was. It was too late to call my other Grama so I emailed her that I was missing him and thinking of her.

I texted one of my girlfriends a few times, IM'd my brother a bit, and then I told myself I was going to sleep ... but I could not sleep. I wished that one of the boys would get up and need me so I could try and take my mind off things. I tried to tell myself that my Grama was happy now. At peace. Finally reunited with my Grampa after almost 8 years. Finally reunited with their son Alan who passed as a toddler and I know she never ever stopped missing. I tried to imagine them all together, with my Great Grama and others greeting them.

The truth is, I don't know if that's how things work. I mean I hope it does ... but I have no idea.

It doesn't feel real.  I didn't get to be there. I didn't get to say goodbye.

In the middle of the night the Bunny Bee came running in after hearing a noise. I needed that. I pulled him close as he fell asleep holding my hand.

We told the boys this morning. All three of them climbed in bed next to me and we just watched TV for awhile like that. The Big Guy said he couldn't go to school. I actually thought about keeping them all home, just staying in bed to watch movies ... but I knew that I had to send them. It would be good for them to be with their friends and in a routine today.

I came back home and tore my house to pieces trying to find the photos we had done when my Grama was last here 2 years ago. I had packed them in preparation for the move a few months back and had never scanned them in online. I prayed out loud to St. Anthony, never really believing it would actually work. Basement, my desk, the dining room, my entire bedroom ... all torn apart. Just as I was giving up, I checked one more place - that I didn't think it could possibly be.

And there they were.

My photos.

Tears all over again.

It doesn't feel real thinking about how I will never hear her voice or get to hug her again. My Grama was so strong, loving, compassionate ... amazing. I don't even have all the words to describe how wonderful she was. I'm proud to have been her granddaughter.

I will miss her more than I can ever express.

Not ready to let her go

It has been weeks since my last blog. It feels like a confession to type that.

So much has been happening between the Big Guy turning eight, the movie coming out, Christmas, vacation and more ... but there is a reason that I have not been able to bring myself to write a single thing. Until today, I haven't even been able to log myself in here to even think about posting anything.

My Grama (in Florida) has had two strokes since Thanksgiving, with the second one coming right around the Big Guy's birthday. My mother flew out to Florida before the holidays and has been there ever since. Over the weekend, my dad came over to tell me what deep down I already knew we would be hearing. She was being moved to hospice.

Over the last month I have been though such a range of emotions. Worried, sad, mad because I felt like she was giving up on trying to get better ... and so damn guilty ... because every year I tell myself next year is the year that Al and I will take the boys to Florida for a vacation to stay with her. I thought we had all this time. My Great Grama (my Grama's mom), lived to be 96. I was a senior in high school when she passed. My Grama was a nurse. No, there would be so much more time to make it happen. And how can it be that THIS YEAR ... 2014 ... when Al and I thought we finally had a way to make Florida happen before the end of the year ... that this is happening.

There were days over the boys nearly two week winter vacation I could barely get myself out of bed. OK, I got out of bed ... but a good hour or so later than I should have with them home. I couldn't do much more than just get through the day. It was all I could think about.

Losing my Grandfather just a year ago still feels new somehow. Losing my other Grandfather - my Grama's husband - nearly eight years ago now ... I can't. He never even got to meet the twins. He held on before passing from Cancer just to meet my first baby.

I keep going back to wondering how we didn't have more time ... with any of them.

My grandparents moved to Florida when I was just 7, but we always remained very close. For years after my Grandfather passed I begged my Grama to move back here so I could help take care of her. Even though she didn't need taking care of. I just selfishly wanted her here with us. I wrote her a several page letter a few years back, pleading with her to come back and listing all the reasons why she needed to.

It took her a long time to write me back. She would often say she knew that she owed me a letter, but she wasn't ready to write it yet. Part of me held on to the hope that she would say she was ready to move back ... but deep down I knew it was because she didn't want to have to tell me no.

She has been able to come up from Florida a few times over the years and the boys have loved spending time with her. They haven't seen her in about two years now, but they feel so close to her. She is always sending them little cards and holiday themed packages. She never forgets even the littlest thing when it comes to them. I regret not taking the time to send her more things.

Before both of my Grandfathers passed away, I felt the need to tell them so many things. I called one the night before he passed away from Cancer and was able to get a few things out. I was not able to really tell the other one what I wanted before it was too late. I hope that they both knew how very much they meant to me.

Is it crazy that I can't call my Grama? Like I actually can not pick up the phone and call her. I start feeling sick even thinking about it. I can't catch my breath. I sent her a Christmas present and a few packages of pictures the boys drew her ... but I can't make that call. I don't know what to say. I also know that I have been able to say everything - in that letter - and she was able to say everything to me in mine. And that is pretty awesome because I know most people don't get to have that. I know that she knows how much I love her and I know how much she loves me. It is just breaking my heart to have to let her go because I am not ready. How can I be.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

But then I guess it never is.

It is an awful feeling knowing that you are going to be losing someone and you can't be there and you can't do anything about it. I had to tell the boys. But I couldn't really tell them. They knew she was sick, the Big Guy has been openly worrying about it. All I could do on Sunday morning was sit them down and tell them that she isn't getting any better. That we don't know what will happen but that the doctors at Hospice are doing all they can to take care of her and make her comfortable. And we overnighted some more pictures and handmade birthday cards for her.

This has been the reason for my silence. She has always been one of my biggest cheerleaders and I don't know what I will do without her. I'm not ready to let her go, even though it isn't my decision to make.