Smart Mouth

The phone rang last night, it was my Dad.  As soon as I heard his voice cracking with emotion, I knew he called to give me bad news.  His doctor appt was yesterday, so I asked about that first… and he said it went well.  So, since that wasn’t bad news… I knew what was coming.

I said, “Grandma died, didn’t she?”

He said “Yes, she did.  I’m sorry.” 

And right then, I fell apart.  I don’t really remember what else he said.  I know he asked to talk to BB, and I wandered around trying to find him, and finally told my Dad that I couldn’t.  We said good bye, I set the phone on my bed and sank to the floor.

I cried for what felt like forever.  Until my head was pounding and I felt queasy. 

The kids came in the room, and I know I should have been strong for them, and tell them calmly… but I couldn’t find the words.  I told them I needed a few minutes, to collect myself.  But I couldn’t do it, BB told them.  And I stayed in bedroom and cried.  Carsten came and laid on the bed with me… crying too.

I just can’t believe she is gone.

I know she lived a long life, and I knew she was just lingering here… one foot in this life, and one foot in the afterlife.  I know I should be comforted, that she is being reunited with my Grandfather, a man that in recent years she told me was the love of her life, and the handsomest man she had ever seen.

But, I’m not comforted.  I am sad, and I  just miss her so much already.  I can’t believe I will never see her cute little face again.

She had a witty, sassy personality that I have tried to emulate my whole life.  Even as a child, I tried to match her sarcastic wit.  I will never forget when I was about eight and I told her a story,  and she said, SO?  And I answered “So, so, suck your toe.. all the way to Mexico!  When you get there, cut your hair and stuff it down your underwear!”  That was the first time she called me Smart Mouth.  Through the years, she would call me Smart Mouth in a scolding manner, but I always felt like she was more proud of me being saucy, than she was mad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She was the funniest little old lady ever.  Her name was Dorothy and she hated when you called her Dot.  She died when she was 97 years old.

Whenever I visited her at the nursing home, she made me laugh until my sides hurt.   She had an opinion about EVERYTHING….  my hair (was I going to grow it until it touched my butt?  Get a haircut!), my clothes (why am I dressed like a hooker?), my shoes (what are THOSE? ((they were flip flops)) and WHY do you want your feet hanging out where dirty stuff could touch them?!?!), the caliber of men in the nursing home  (calling some of them her boyfriend), her roommates (don’t talk to her!  Are you here to see me?  Or to see her?), etc…   

She loved Kleenex, she sometimes used an entire box in one day.  We used to joke about buying stock in Kleenex, because sometimes my Mom had to buy Kleenex by the case.  She loved nuts and ADORED candy, and she HATED to share.  (I inherited that trait too)  She would accuse the nursing aides of coming in her room to steal her candy.  In the last few years, sex was one of her favorite topics and she loved shocking people.  She was especially excited when she shocked my mother.  Once she told me that sometimes she just pretended to forget things, when she didn’t want to talk about something, because she was old and could get away with it.  She was the most stubborn person I have EVER known and she always said EXACTLY what she was thinking, much to the embarrassment of my mother, but the delight of almost everyone else.  She wore two bras to bed, every night…. even in her ninties.  Because you are never too old to have perky breasts.  (her words, not mine.)

 

 I remember walking out of the nursing home many times, silently wishing that I will  be that spunky and hilarious in my old age.

I have never lost a Grandparent before, both my Grandfathers died before I was born.  And while I knew this was coming, and I thought I was ready……  I wasn’t.  Can you ever really be ready to say good-bye to someone you love?  It is just so hard to imagine that I will never see her again, never hear her voice, never laugh at something she says, and never kiss her soft cheek. 

I went to sleep last night, wishing she would come to me in my dreams.  So, I could say good-bye.  She didn’t…… so I guess I will just say it here.  (I hope you can still read blogs in heaven.) 

Good – bye Grandma.  I love you.