In Memory

My grandmother died this morning. I guess technically she was my step-grandmother as she married my grandfather some time after my grandmother passed away, but that never really mattered to me. I always enjoyed being around her. Her humor and quick wit and unabashed way of telling things how they really were was refreshing and though she fought different forms of cancer half her life, she was always winking and smiling. Liver cancer was the one that finally took her. I was told she didn't want any visitors though; no sense people fussing over her.

There's a card on my desk at work that's addressed to her. I couldn't find the envelope I saved so I'd have her address whenever I wanted to mail her a letter, so this envelope only has her name on it. I wrote it just after receiving a check for Christmas she'd sent to me and in my 'thank you' letter back to her, I asked if it'd be ok that I come down and visit her Valentine's Day weekend; I'd already marked it on my calendar. That was before I found out earlier this week that she had liver cancer. Now my note letting her know how thankful I am for her gift and how much I'd like to come visit won't ever be mailed. It's possible even with the holidays my letter wouldn't have gotten to her in time, but I think it would have.

You'd never know from talking to her how difficult her life had been and still was. She only had one child, who I believe died while still an infant. She nursed her first husband through cancer until he passed away. She re-married my grandfather and wound up nursing him through a brain tumor which came suddenly and took him quickly. Right after that, she began chemotherapy for her own cancer, which eventually went away. Some time later it came back and she underwent more chemo. I believe at some point she also had a small tumor in her brain, and finally liver cancer. Unbelievable when you consider how much she smiled.

I never asked her how she met her first husband. I never asked how and when she and her husband met my grandparents. I never asked where she worked throughout her life and if she enjoyed it. I never asked what her dreams were. When I was 18 or 19, I remember seeing in her house a picture of her when she was young - and thinking how beautiful she was. She was still beautiful for a woman in her 90s. Always had make-up on and had her hair done. She was always dressed nice and had a great smile to go with it. Her eyes were always warm and she always told me she loved me and gave me a kiss before leaving.

So much I wanted to ask her that I never got around to asking. So much time lost. My comfort is in knowing that she's not suffering anymore; that for all her perseverence and faithfulness, she's happy now and "every tear wiped away"; and that I'll see her again. Maybe then we can sit down and have that long talk and I can ask all the questions I meant to ask here. I love you, Ginny.