A little piece of heaven

It’s been 10 days since my grandma died. I miss her with every breath I take.

I know she would want me to be happy, I know she would want me to remember her positively, I know she would want me to embrace life and live it to the utmost.

When I think of my grandma now I think of what a kind person she was. I think of how much she valued family, and how she appreciated every opportunity to share with others. Remembering her character and her legacy makes me want to be a better person.

She was a supremely healthy 89 year old until the last couple of weeks of her life. One day she was perfectly healthy, then she got jaundiced and was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer, 2 weeks later she died. Even though you’d think we’d expect something like this to happen, it still felt very sudden and unexpected to me. One day she was carrying Gryffin around and having him dance on her lap, the next morning she was cold and breathless on her bed.

And it makes me think of Nathan. He is so full of life, so full of joy. Yet so fragile. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how delicate the thread of life is. Grandma’s death made me realize just how fragile life is, especially Nathan’s. It made me remember that he’s not even supposed to be alive and that there are so many things that could go wrong with his health.

I don’t want to live life thinking of or expecting the worst. But if there is one regret I had about my grandma’s death is that I wish I could’ve spent more time with her, I wish I could’ve taken her out on more trips and excursions, I wish I could’ve enjoyed her more.

So this is my mission now with my kids, especially Nathan. I want to enjoy them fully and deeply. I want to live deeply with that awareness that life is fragile so I can enjoy them that much more.

And along those lines, we’ve been having a lot of fun at the Andrew household. Now that we have acres to play in, the kids are having a blast running around and playing outside. Nathan gets to ride the ATV every afternoon. We’ve also started going on long bike rides, with the kids strapped in a bike trailer. They love it.

When Nathan was younger I was so focused on therapies and improving his quality of life by trying to give him more abilities. At this point our focus with him is to help him enjoy his life as deeply and fully as possible. And he sure is enjoying it 🙂

At 10:42 pm last night my grandma died. She died peacefully, surrounded by family and love.

You have to understand, she was no ordinary grandma. She was my friend, my companion, my guide, my support for my entire life. Growing up I could count on her sitting in the living room couch, watching TV, knitting, always there to hold my hand and say a kind word. When I moved to the USA from Colombia at 16, I shared a room with her. It was a hard time, transitioning from one life to another, and she was there for us 100% of the way. After Owen and I moved in together, it was my grandma who cooked for us and did our laundry. She lived down the street so we got to see her often. When Nathan was young, she was so supportive of our journey, always encouraging me, giving me hope, giving me strength. For Gryffin’s birth, my mom was out of the country, so my grandma showed up at the hospital and said to me, I’m sorry your mom isn’t here, but I am, and I’ll take care of you. She spent that first night with me at the hospital, holding the baby, helping me rest. Those early days after Gryffin’s birth I was going through so much turmoil, Grandma found a bus system and set it up so she could come to my house twice a week to help with the kids.

Every Monday and Wednesday she came over on the Dial a Ride, walked up the stairs, and claimed Gryffin. She had Mary bathe him, and then she sang to him and played with him and rocked him to sleep. He slept on her belly for hours, and she wouldn’t move or get up, even to go to the bathroom, until he awoke. When he was old enough, she taught him to clap, to say baba, to play “tinton”. She taught him how to dance and when he was 4 or 5 months old and she said, “A dormir” he would lay down on her belly and pretend to sleep.

When I turned 30, it was Grandma who went to Catalina Island with me and Izzy to celebrate my birthday. Every couple of days, if we didn’t see each other, we’d talk on the phone and spend 90% of the time talking about the kids. She was in love with my kids. Whenever we went on long rides, she would tell me about her childhood, her early days, her life as a young mother of 6 children. I loved hearing her stories.

I miss her. I miss her so much it hurts. Everywhere I look, everything I do, every moment holds a precious memory of her. Every time the kids do something funny, or clever, my first thought is, “I have to call to tell grandma what Gryffin just did!”. And then I remember she’s gone forever and oh how it hurts.

She was the matriarch of our family. She had 6 kids, 36 grandkids, and 18 great grand kids. She was one of 12 children, so she had a ton of nieces and nephews, all who loved, admired, and respected her tremendously. She was a strong, funny, caring, independent woman. Every Sunday morning she’d sit down and make international phone calls to family and friends all over the worlds. She loved these phone chats and she loved feeling involved in everyone’s lives.

What I love the most about her is that she believed the best in people. Even when I failed her, she never stopped believing the very best of me. It was that faith that helped me be a better person. Even though I often failed her, she always loved me, always supported me, was never ungrateful, never upset. I knew that always, no matter what, my grandma was there for me, always kind, always loving.

Oh how I miss her. A part of my heart shattered the moment she took her last breath.

My grandma was no ordinary grandma. She was the best grandma any person could ever wish for. And now she’s gone. What a void she’s left behind. My mom, my aunt, my cousins…we all feel like planets orbiting without a sun. Someone fundamental in our lives is missing and we can’t seem to find our North.

Grandma lived to be 89, almost 90. People say, wow, how lucky, she had such a long full life. It doesn’t make it any easier that she was old. It doesn’t make me miss her any less. I know she is in a better place, I know that at least now she will have no more pain, she will be nimble and limber and will rule over her brood in heaven. But oh how I miss her.

Goodbye Grandma. I love you. I will miss you every single day for the rest of my life. You will be in my heart forever. Thank you for being such a kind presence in my life. Thank you for all of the love, laughs, support, and fun. Thank you for always being my friend and fan. May you rest in peace for eternity.