They provided sage advice.
They were always the shoulder to cry on or the first to call/see with great news.
I'd ditch cafeteria lunch and drive to Grandma's with friends for her BLTs.
In times of need or pain she was my rock.
When my Grandpa died in 1994, I was a freshman in college. I went into my closet and cried with her on the phone so my five other roommates wouldn't hear. I was heartbroken and still am.
She has always been there. Her food has been comfort food. Her home a refuge.
She was always cool and had style. Heads turned when Grandpa and Grandma walked into a room. Always the best dressed in the room, always. I like to think I get my love of suits from Grandpa. He could be casual in a suit. So cool.
She made quilts and clothes. The baggy late-80s shorts are long gone but the quilts still warm my family. They are special to me. All of them. All representing a period in my life.
She was huggable.
She wrote me constantly on my mission.
She, at 80+ would not miss my wedding for the world and boarded a plane by herself for Chicago.
My 2nd oldest is named after her (her maiden name of Neeley became a first name for us). I called her FIRST when Neeley was born and she threatened me if I named her Blanche. Neeley it was.
Last Sunday, while in UT we visited her in her nursing home in Bountiful. It's been two years since I've seen her. A series of strokes and old age have taken their toll and have left her without voice or functions. Heartbreaking.
But her eyes...
She's in there. She knew me. She started to cry and held my hand. She was processing and wanted to speak. Moans came out but she was attentive and fixated on my eyes. It was my five minutes of connection into the soul of a woman who has been so much to me. Her eyes have always had that sparkle that only Grams eyes could have and I saw it. She knew me.
This picture is incredibly private to me. I posted it on Facebook and then took it down. Not that I don't want people to see it, however, without the context of who she is and what she once was makes it meaningless and there's nothing meaningless about her. This is not her body and it pains my soul to see her like this.
The worst part that I'm still not over? Walking away from her and leaving her all alone in that room. She was always in the middle of people. People wanted to be around her and yet there she sits awaiting her time. Heartbreaking.
And out of this I witnessed my sweet mother's care for her mom. I saw my Mom speak and attend to her in a way I've not seen my Mom serve before. My Mom was strong and loving and deeply compassionate for this woman who raised her and also supported her as she raised her family. I know its hard on my Mom to see her this way. I can't imagine not being able to speak to a parent and talk through life's joys and sorrows. I feel that way so I can only imagine how my Mom feels. But she is there and she cares for her and I was able to witness it. Words can't describe how wonderful my Mom was with Grandma. It impacted me.
Ry
