Growing up, my sister and I spent weeks at a time living with my Grandma and I attribute a lot of my raising to her. She lavished affection on me (including gifts) but if she thought I was getting too spoiled, she would give away all my toys to a needy family.
She inspired my love of art by fawning over my drawings and taught me to paint pottery. She helped teach me how to swim and dance and fostered my love of big band music. When I got older and didn’t see her as often, she was my faithful pen pal. We sent hundreds of letters back and forth over the years. She was the BEST kind of pen pal because she would put funny little presents in my letters. Stickers, confetti, earrings, needlework, gum, loonies…you name it. When I was at University and having rough time, she sent me a hand sewn handkerchief in the mail. She kept every letter & drawing I ever sent her. Even when the arthritis in her hands got so bad that she couldn’t send many letters, she still tried. The words would be barely legible and slanted down the page, but I loved them nonetheless. And eventually she wasn’t able to fill them with goodies because she couldn’t get out to the store, but she would doodle flowers and happy faces on the pages to keep them exciting.
In second year University I noticed that her mind was starting to falter and so for a school project, I borrowed a voice recorder from my sister and spent several hours interviewing my Grandma about her life and memories and opinions. It was the best idea I have ever had. I have her voice forever etched in stone. I have a true record of her professing her love for me and my family and most importantly, I have her optimistic view on life. She says “You can’t take life too seriously. You can’t spend all your time worrying about being sick or in pain. Life is too short. You just have to be happy.” I played the recording for my family after she died and we sat together laughing and crying at her (sometimes) outrageous comments. We sorted through hundreds of pictures that delineated her life. She was always so happy.
Even when her mind started to fade and the letters stopped, I still faithfully wrote her. I started to put little presents in HER letters. Earrings, loonies, Tim cards…you name it. She would show my letters to everyone at the nursing home tearfully and proud. My last letter to my Grandma sat unsent on my desktop the day I got the news and that is one of my biggest regrets.
My Grandma got to be at my sister’s wedding and it will always be a great sadness to me that she didn’t get to see mine. I still feel moments of overwhelming sadness, like when I look at my dresser and see the funny little gifts I gave her for Christmas only a few months ago. But that’s the funny thing about life. It DOES actually go on. And sometimes you have to grab hold of something to slow it down for a couple of seconds so you can reflect on your losses and remember. I thought my world would crumble when she actually died, but it didn’t. And as Grandma would always say, God doesn’t ever give you more than you can handle. And I think you can’t know true love, until you’ve known loss.
I didn’t get to give her the last letter, but I can give it to you loyal blog readers…
