Today instead of going back over the week I lost my adopted Grandma. I’m talking about what I lost with her. In a way maybe this can help my readers to understand that as I was going through that horrible week I was also trying desperately to hold on to her. To not let her go, because of all that she has meant to me. I will get to the rest of that week soon, but I need to write this first.
I added this poem to my grandma’s memorial program –
Though her smile is gone
and her hand I cannot touch
I still have so many memories
Of the one I loved so much.
Her memory is now my keepsake
Which with I’ll never part.
God has her in his keeping
I have her in my heart.
Sadly missed but never forgotten
This last month I have been trying to stay in autopilot so that I didn’t have to deal with this loss. I realize now that rather I want to or not, I’m still going to have to deal with it. Every morning I wake up thinking I’m going to go see grandma today, only to remember that I no longer can. I’ve been trying to put all those feelings of sadness away in a box with a lock; disassociating for them and everything else around me. Last night I accidently, not even knowing it broke the lock on that box.
I had a friend over to have dinner and a movie with me, because I didn’t want to be alone. You see if was Wednesday and that was Grandma’s and my night for dinner and a movie. Anyway my friend and I end up watching Now, Voyager with Bette Davie. It’s an old black and white movie but it is my favorite movie. It deals with a woman who has been controlled her whole life by an over-bearing mother. The mother makes all her decision – what she wears, what she eats, what she reads, who her friends are until she has a mental breakdown and ends up in a sanitarium. There she learns how to be her own person. Afterwards she meets someone who gives her simple gifts that have a huge effect on her self-esteem and her outlook on life. I won’t go into the whole movie but it is wonderful.
It made me realize that was what my adopted grandma was for me. She was the person who made me see thing differently than the way the abuse taught me to think.
She was the one that told I was beautiful. She was the one that told me that I was attractive to men. Till her I never noticed, when men looked at me, or if I did I thought they were thinking how unattractive I was. She was the person who saw beneath my prickery shell to the beauty underneath and she never once miss an opportunity to say something about it. Sometime she’d be embarrassing with her compliments. I’d once been told that I was like a pineapple, all hard shell and prickery skin, but if people took the time they would find the sweet fruit underneath, it’s just that most people don’t take the time. Grandma did, and that is what I’ll miss. I’ll miss the person who saw me more clearly then I can even see myself. The person who was like a mirror to me, with her undying love, who showed me what she saw in me, who let me see the person she saw. With her love, I began to believe the picture she showed me, and was able to quiet the years of other peoples’ voice telling me different.
I’m going to miss how even on a bad day; she could make me feel good. Now I have to work on hold everything she gave me in my heart and never letting go of her love and belief in me.