It's been 10 years since you left his Earth, and yet I still think about you so much.
My earliest/best childhood memories involve you. You were the best, and only Grandma I have ever had. I loved going to your house and staying the night. Our time together usually consisted of us playing with a bag of plastic toys Rosanne from across the street gave me. You always let me "make you coffee" and "do your makeup". Pappy always slept on the couch in the living room so my sister and I could sleep with you and the dogs, Taylor and Alex. We always would have Entenmann's crumb donuts for breakfast, and Pappy would take me down to Daniel's Hardware in the afternoon to get Popcorn. In the summer, we often spent time up at Pioneer Park in your trailer. Although I don't remember much, I do remember sitting on your lap outside, possibly for the Fourth of July, one night watching fireworks with all of your Pioneer Park friends. This past year on my way to a retreat with my youth group, we passed Pioneer Park, and I cried thinking about our time spent there. When we weren't together, I called you every single day. We would talk for at least an hour. What about? I really don't know. But I knew that you were the person I told every single thing about my life to.
The beginning of the decline of your health is still fresh in my mind. I remember getting the call on the way back from my Great Aunt's house that you were not responding to Pappy or my dad when he got there, and they had to call 911. I remember my mom telling my sister and I that everything was going to be okay, and that we were going to our friend's house. Tim, thanks for taking us in that night and for continuing the running gag of giving me Sarris chocolate covered pretzels after I asked for one that night.
After that night, things did not get better, at least from what I remember. Everything's kind of a blur, but I know that you were not there for Christmas in 2006. I remember being really upset that you were not there with us and still in the hospital. My last christmas present from you was a Bratz doll, but I know I didn't care about the doll when I got it, because all I wanted was you to be there. Your last Christmas present was from one of your nurses of a little figurine of two snowmen riding a sleigh in the snow, which I still keep on my dresser. Two days after Christmas, you went to Heaven. I cried in my dad's arms when he told me this news he got from my mom over the phone.
All I really remember from your viewing is running around with my friends pretending we were Charlie's Angels with the Disney Princess lip gloss rings I kept in my Princess Jasmine purse. I don't think you not actually being alive in that moment sunk in, because I still saw you. The Funeral is where things started to really sink in. I remember going up to see you for the last time. You still looked so beautiful in your satin, purple pajamas; purple was your favorite color. I kissed your cold hand that had my picture beneath your palm, and said goodbye as we made our way to the service. All I know about the service is that Tim spoke about you, just as he did for Pappy when he passed away 7 years later.
Nothing really made sense to me in the months after you left. I wanted to call you, but I knew you would not be there to answer. I came home from school often because I would get sick a lot and feel myself begin to lose consciousness. I was just sad, and I didn't know why. Apparently the grief I did not know I had consumed me, and my mom told me I had depression. I was only nine, and I had no idea what being depressed meant. I just went along with going to see the school counselor and therapist after school. Eventually, I got to the point where I no longer needed to go to counseling.
Today, I still wonder what life would be like if you were here. I always wonder what you would have to say about the accomplishments I have made, the choices I have made, and obviously what your opinion would be on the guy I like. Overall, I think you would be proud of me and who I have become.
Grandma, I love you with all my heart, and I will see you again one day.
